April 2, 2009
Alright, let’s play make the connection. I’ll give you 3 things, and you tell me what they have in common. Here’s an example,Baseball, Credit & Greeting. The answer….they are all “cards.” Now this one’s a little more difficult, A sunrise, a sunset And your children. I told you this one was tougher…….the answer is “the time you have to enjoy them is very short.”
I got to thinking about this when I was watching some home video that was shot on my family’s recent beach trip. I’m an early riser because of my job and even when on vacation, I still get up early. While enjoying some coffee and devotions, I video taped a sunrise and while I was watching it back, I noticed that it took only 2 ½ minutes from the time the top part shown over the horizon, til the bottom part was fully seen. The same can be said about the beauty in a sunset and I’m sure I don’t have to mention how quickly our children grow!
My oldest daughter Hannah just turned 11 and said last weekend, “Dad,in five more years I’ll be driving!” She was excited, and I was nearly heartbroken thinking it seemed like yesterday I was driving her home from the hospital. So, today I challenge you to slow down and take a look at your priorities. Don’t allow yourself to get so busy you don’t notice the artwork that God creates especially for you to start and end the day and all the joy that your children can provide in between. After all, that time is gone in the blink of an eye!
Darren
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
March 27, 2009
Real Mothers
Real mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time to make it.
Real mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.
Real mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens, and happy kids.
Real mothers know that dried playdough doesn't come out of shag carpet.
Real mothers don't want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.
Real mothers sometimes ask "why me?" and get their answer when a little voice says, "because I love you best."
Real mothers know that a child's growth is not measured by height or years or grade... it is marked by the progression of Mama to Mommy to Mom...
Real Mothers
Real mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time to make it.
Real mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.
Real mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens, and happy kids.
Real mothers know that dried playdough doesn't come out of shag carpet.
Real mothers don't want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.
Real mothers sometimes ask "why me?" and get their answer when a little voice says, "because I love you best."
Real mothers know that a child's growth is not measured by height or years or grade... it is marked by the progression of Mama to Mommy to Mom...
Monday, March 23, 2009
March 23, 2009
English Is Tough Stuff
Multinational personnel at North Atlantic Treaty Organization headquarters near Paris found English to be an easy language ... until they tried to pronounce it. To help them discard an array of accents, the verses below were devised. After trying them, a Frenchman said he'd prefer six months at hard labor to reading six lines aloud. Try them yourself.
Dearest creature in creation,
Study English pronunciation.
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.
I will keep you, Suzy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy.
Tear in eye, your dress will tear.
So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.
Just compare heart, beard, and heard,
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, retain and Britain.
(Mind the latter, how it's written.)
Now I surely will not plague you
With such words as plaque and ague.
But be careful how you speak:
Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.
Hear me say, devoid of trickery,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles;
Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
Solar, mica, war and far;
One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;
Gertrude, German, wind and mind,
Scene, Melpomene, mankind.
Billet does not rhyme with ballet,
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
Blood and flood are not like food,
Nor is mould like should and would.
Viscous, viscount, load and broad,
Toward, to forward, to reward.
And your pronunciation's OK
When you correctly say croquet,
Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.
Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
And enamour rhyme with hammer.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,
Doll and roll and some and home.
Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,
Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,
And then singer, ginger, linger,
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.
Query does not rhyme with very,
Nor does fury sound like bury.
Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.
Though the differences seem little,
We say actual but victual.
Refer does not rhyme with deafer.
Foeffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
Mint, pint, senate and sedate;
Dull, bull, and George ate late.
Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,
Science, conscience, scientific.
Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.
We say hallowed, but allowed,
People, leopard, towed, but vowed.
Mark the differences, moreover,
Between mover, cover, clover;
Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
Chalice, but police and lice;
Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.
Petal, panel, and canal,
Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.
Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
Senator, spectator, mayor.
Tour, but our and succour, four.
Gas, alas, and Arkansas.
Sea, idea, Korea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.
Doctrine, turpentine, marine.
Compare alien with Italian,
Dandelion and battalion.
Sally with ally, yea, ye,
Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, and key.
Say aver, but ever, fever,
Neither, leisure, skein, deceiver.
Heron, granary, canary.
Crevice and device and aerie.
Face, but preface, not efface.
Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.
Large, but target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.
Ear, but earn and wear and tear
Do not rhyme with here but ere.
Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,
Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,
Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.
Pronunciation -- think of Psyche!
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won't it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?
It's a dark abyss or tunnel:
Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,
Islington and Isle of Wight,
Housewife, verdict and indict.
Finally, which rhymes with enough --
Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?
Hiccough has the sound of cup.
My advice is to give up!!!
English Is Tough Stuff
Multinational personnel at North Atlantic Treaty Organization headquarters near Paris found English to be an easy language ... until they tried to pronounce it. To help them discard an array of accents, the verses below were devised. After trying them, a Frenchman said he'd prefer six months at hard labor to reading six lines aloud. Try them yourself.
Dearest creature in creation,
Study English pronunciation.
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.
I will keep you, Suzy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy.
Tear in eye, your dress will tear.
So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.
Just compare heart, beard, and heard,
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, retain and Britain.
(Mind the latter, how it's written.)
Now I surely will not plague you
With such words as plaque and ague.
But be careful how you speak:
Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.
Hear me say, devoid of trickery,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles;
Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
Solar, mica, war and far;
One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;
Gertrude, German, wind and mind,
Scene, Melpomene, mankind.
Billet does not rhyme with ballet,
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
Blood and flood are not like food,
Nor is mould like should and would.
Viscous, viscount, load and broad,
Toward, to forward, to reward.
And your pronunciation's OK
When you correctly say croquet,
Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.
Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
And enamour rhyme with hammer.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,
Doll and roll and some and home.
Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,
Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,
And then singer, ginger, linger,
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.
Query does not rhyme with very,
Nor does fury sound like bury.
Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.
Though the differences seem little,
We say actual but victual.
Refer does not rhyme with deafer.
Foeffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
Mint, pint, senate and sedate;
Dull, bull, and George ate late.
Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,
Science, conscience, scientific.
Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.
We say hallowed, but allowed,
People, leopard, towed, but vowed.
Mark the differences, moreover,
Between mover, cover, clover;
Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
Chalice, but police and lice;
Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.
Petal, panel, and canal,
Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.
Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
Senator, spectator, mayor.
Tour, but our and succour, four.
Gas, alas, and Arkansas.
Sea, idea, Korea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.
Doctrine, turpentine, marine.
Compare alien with Italian,
Dandelion and battalion.
Sally with ally, yea, ye,
Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, and key.
Say aver, but ever, fever,
Neither, leisure, skein, deceiver.
Heron, granary, canary.
Crevice and device and aerie.
Face, but preface, not efface.
Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.
Large, but target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.
Ear, but earn and wear and tear
Do not rhyme with here but ere.
Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,
Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,
Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.
Pronunciation -- think of Psyche!
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won't it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?
It's a dark abyss or tunnel:
Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,
Islington and Isle of Wight,
Housewife, verdict and indict.
Finally, which rhymes with enough --
Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?
Hiccough has the sound of cup.
My advice is to give up!!!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
Pick of the week
February 20, 2009
Why Did Jesus Fold the Napkin?
This is one I can honestly say I have never seen circulating in the
emails so; if it touches you, you may want to forward it.
Why did Jesus fold the linen burial cloth after His resurrection?
I never noticed this....
The Gospel of John (20:7) tells us that the napkin, which was placed
over the face of Jesus, was not just thrown aside like the grave clothes.
The Bible takes an entire verse to tell us that the napkin was neatly
folded, and was placed separate from the grave clothes.
Early Sunday morning, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to
the tomb and found that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance.
She ran and found Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom
Jesus loved. She said, 'They have taken the Lord's body out of the
tomb, and I don't know where they have put him!'
Peter and the other disciple ran to the tomb to see. The other
disciple outran Peter and got there first. He stooped and looked in
and saw the linen cloth lying there, but he didn't go in.
Then Simon Peter arrived and went inside. He also noticed the linen
wrappings lying there, while the cloth that had covered Jesus' head
was folded up and lying to the side.
Was that important? Absolutely!
Is it really significant? Yes!
In order to understand the significance of the folded napkin, you
have to understand a little bit about Hebrew tradition of
that day. The folded napkin had to do with the Master and Servant, and
every Jewish boy knew this tradition.
When the servant set the dinner table for the master, he made sure
that it was exactly the way the master wanted it.
The table was furnished perfectly, and then the servant would wait,
just out of sight, until the master had finished eating, and the
servant would not dare touch that table, until the master was finished.
Now if the master was done eating, he would rise from the table, wipe
his fingers, his mouth, and clean his beard, and would wad up that
napkin and toss it onto the table.
The servant would then know to clear the table. For in those days, the
wadded napkin meant, 'I'm done'.
But if the master got up from the table, and folded his napkin, and
laid it beside his plate, the servant would not dare touch the table,
because............
The folded napkin meant, 'I'm coming back!'
He is Coming Back!
February 20, 2009
Why Did Jesus Fold the Napkin?
This is one I can honestly say I have never seen circulating in the
emails so; if it touches you, you may want to forward it.
Why did Jesus fold the linen burial cloth after His resurrection?
I never noticed this....
The Gospel of John (20:7) tells us that the napkin, which was placed
over the face of Jesus, was not just thrown aside like the grave clothes.
The Bible takes an entire verse to tell us that the napkin was neatly
folded, and was placed separate from the grave clothes.
Early Sunday morning, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to
the tomb and found that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance.
She ran and found Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom
Jesus loved. She said, 'They have taken the Lord's body out of the
tomb, and I don't know where they have put him!'
Peter and the other disciple ran to the tomb to see. The other
disciple outran Peter and got there first. He stooped and looked in
and saw the linen cloth lying there, but he didn't go in.
Then Simon Peter arrived and went inside. He also noticed the linen
wrappings lying there, while the cloth that had covered Jesus' head
was folded up and lying to the side.
Was that important? Absolutely!
Is it really significant? Yes!
In order to understand the significance of the folded napkin, you
have to understand a little bit about Hebrew tradition of
that day. The folded napkin had to do with the Master and Servant, and
every Jewish boy knew this tradition.
When the servant set the dinner table for the master, he made sure
that it was exactly the way the master wanted it.
The table was furnished perfectly, and then the servant would wait,
just out of sight, until the master had finished eating, and the
servant would not dare touch that table, until the master was finished.
Now if the master was done eating, he would rise from the table, wipe
his fingers, his mouth, and clean his beard, and would wad up that
napkin and toss it onto the table.
The servant would then know to clear the table. For in those days, the
wadded napkin meant, 'I'm done'.
But if the master got up from the table, and folded his napkin, and
laid it beside his plate, the servant would not dare touch the table,
because............
The folded napkin meant, 'I'm coming back!'
He is Coming Back!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
February 11, 2009
Quilt Of Holes
As I faced my Maker at the last judgment, I knelt before the Lord along With all the other souls.
Before each of us laid our lives like the squares of a quilt in many piles; An angel sat before each of us sewing our quilt squares together into a Tapestry that is our life.
But as my angel took each piece of cloth off the pile, I noticed how ragged And empty each of my squares was. They were filled with giant holes. Each Square was labeled with a part of my life that had been difficult, the Challenges and temptations I was faced with in every day life. I saw Hardships that I endured, which were the largest holes of all.
I glanced around me. Nobody else had such squares. Other than a tiny hole Here and there, the other tapestries were filled with rich color and the Bright hues of worldly fortune. I gazed upon my own life and was Disheartened.
My angel was sewing the ragged pieces of cloth together, threadbare and Empty, like binding air.
Finally the time came when each life was to be displayed, held up to the Light, the scrutiny of truth. The others rose; each in turn, holding up their tapestries. So filled their lives had been. My angel looked upon me, And nodded for me to rise.
My gaze dropped to the ground in shame. I hadn't had all the earthly Fortunes. I had love in my life, and laughter. But there had also been Trials of illness, and wealth, and false accusations that took from me my World, as I knew it. I had to start over many times. I often struggled with The temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the strength to pick up and Begin again. I spent many nights on my knees in prayer, asking for help and Guidance in my life. I had often been held up to ridicule, which I endured Painfully, each time offering it U p to the Father in hopes that I would Not melt within my skin beneath the judgmental gaze of those who unfairly Judged Me.
And now, I had to face the truth. My life was what it was, and I had to Accept it for what it was.
I rose and slowly lifted the combined squares of my life to the light.
An awe-filled gasp filled the air. I gazed around at the others who Stared at me with wide eyes.
Then, I looked upon the tapestry before me. Light flooded the many holes, Creating an image, the face of Christ. Then our Lord stood before me, with Warmth and love in His eyes. He said, 'Every time you gave over your life To Me, it became My life, My hardships, and My struggles.
Each point of light in your life is when you stepped aside and let Me shine Through, until there was more of Me than there was of you.'
May all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing Christ to shine Through!
Quilt Of Holes
As I faced my Maker at the last judgment, I knelt before the Lord along With all the other souls.
Before each of us laid our lives like the squares of a quilt in many piles; An angel sat before each of us sewing our quilt squares together into a Tapestry that is our life.
But as my angel took each piece of cloth off the pile, I noticed how ragged And empty each of my squares was. They were filled with giant holes. Each Square was labeled with a part of my life that had been difficult, the Challenges and temptations I was faced with in every day life. I saw Hardships that I endured, which were the largest holes of all.
I glanced around me. Nobody else had such squares. Other than a tiny hole Here and there, the other tapestries were filled with rich color and the Bright hues of worldly fortune. I gazed upon my own life and was Disheartened.
My angel was sewing the ragged pieces of cloth together, threadbare and Empty, like binding air.
Finally the time came when each life was to be displayed, held up to the Light, the scrutiny of truth. The others rose; each in turn, holding up their tapestries. So filled their lives had been. My angel looked upon me, And nodded for me to rise.
My gaze dropped to the ground in shame. I hadn't had all the earthly Fortunes. I had love in my life, and laughter. But there had also been Trials of illness, and wealth, and false accusations that took from me my World, as I knew it. I had to start over many times. I often struggled with The temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the strength to pick up and Begin again. I spent many nights on my knees in prayer, asking for help and Guidance in my life. I had often been held up to ridicule, which I endured Painfully, each time offering it U p to the Father in hopes that I would Not melt within my skin beneath the judgmental gaze of those who unfairly Judged Me.
And now, I had to face the truth. My life was what it was, and I had to Accept it for what it was.
I rose and slowly lifted the combined squares of my life to the light.
An awe-filled gasp filled the air. I gazed around at the others who Stared at me with wide eyes.
Then, I looked upon the tapestry before me. Light flooded the many holes, Creating an image, the face of Christ. Then our Lord stood before me, with Warmth and love in His eyes. He said, 'Every time you gave over your life To Me, it became My life, My hardships, and My struggles.
Each point of light in your life is when you stepped aside and let Me shine Through, until there was more of Me than there was of you.'
May all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing Christ to shine Through!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Happy Valentine's Day
Valentinus, Gift of Love
This is the fascinating story of the priest, St. Valentine. According to history, Valentinus (the Latin form) was thrown into a dungeon. Although his jailer, Asterius, was not harsh, the priest lived with only the bare necessities. His one comfort while in prison was his friendship with Asterius' blind daughter. She befriended the kindly priest by bringing him food and delivering messages. After a year in jail, Valentinus was summoned to appear before Claudius II. The emperor was so impressed by the young priest's dignity that Claudius attempted to convert him from Christianity to save him from execution.
Valentinus, however, refused and was ordered to be beaten with clubs, stoned and executed. In the last days of his life, Valentinus, through his faith, restored the sight of the jailer's daughter. He also converted Asterius and the girl to his faith.
On the eve of his execution the priest wrote a farewell message to the girl and signed it 'From Your Valentine.' His execution was carried out on Feb 14, 269 A.D in Rome. According to legend, a pink almond tree, a symbol of friendship and affection shared each anniversary of the priest's execution marks Valentine's Day.
Although, thought to be a day for lovers, Valentine's Day is actually a day to profess your love and affection for anyone. It is a time to renew and strengthen the friendship and relationship shared. Happy Valentine's everyone. Have a lovely loving day!
Valentinus, Gift of Love
This is the fascinating story of the priest, St. Valentine. According to history, Valentinus (the Latin form) was thrown into a dungeon. Although his jailer, Asterius, was not harsh, the priest lived with only the bare necessities. His one comfort while in prison was his friendship with Asterius' blind daughter. She befriended the kindly priest by bringing him food and delivering messages. After a year in jail, Valentinus was summoned to appear before Claudius II. The emperor was so impressed by the young priest's dignity that Claudius attempted to convert him from Christianity to save him from execution.
Valentinus, however, refused and was ordered to be beaten with clubs, stoned and executed. In the last days of his life, Valentinus, through his faith, restored the sight of the jailer's daughter. He also converted Asterius and the girl to his faith.
On the eve of his execution the priest wrote a farewell message to the girl and signed it 'From Your Valentine.' His execution was carried out on Feb 14, 269 A.D in Rome. According to legend, a pink almond tree, a symbol of friendship and affection shared each anniversary of the priest's execution marks Valentine's Day.
Although, thought to be a day for lovers, Valentine's Day is actually a day to profess your love and affection for anyone. It is a time to renew and strengthen the friendship and relationship shared. Happy Valentine's everyone. Have a lovely loving day!
Friday, February 06, 2009
First Kiss
At the end of their first date, a young man takes his favorite girl home. Emboldened by the night, he decides to try for that important first kiss.
With an air of confidence, he leans with his hand against the wall and smiling, he says to her, "Darling, how 'bout a goodnight kiss?"
Horrified, she replies, "Are you mad? My parents will see us!"
"Oh come on! Who's gonna see us at this hour?"
"No, please. Can you imagine if we get caught?"
"Oh come on, there's nobody around, they're all sleeping!"
"No way. It's just too risky!"
"Oh please, please, I like you so much!!"
"No, no, and no. I like you too, but I just can't!"
"Oh yes you can. Please?"
"NO, no. I just can't."
"Pleeeeease? . . ."
Out of the blue, the porch light goes on, and the girl's sister shows up in her pajamas, hair disheveled. In a sleepy voice the sister says: "Dad says to go ahead and give him a kiss. Or I can do it. Or if need be, he'll come down himself and do it. But for crying out loud tell him to take his hand off the intercom button!"
At the end of their first date, a young man takes his favorite girl home. Emboldened by the night, he decides to try for that important first kiss.
With an air of confidence, he leans with his hand against the wall and smiling, he says to her, "Darling, how 'bout a goodnight kiss?"
Horrified, she replies, "Are you mad? My parents will see us!"
"Oh come on! Who's gonna see us at this hour?"
"No, please. Can you imagine if we get caught?"
"Oh come on, there's nobody around, they're all sleeping!"
"No way. It's just too risky!"
"Oh please, please, I like you so much!!"
"No, no, and no. I like you too, but I just can't!"
"Oh yes you can. Please?"
"NO, no. I just can't."
"Pleeeeease? . . ."
Out of the blue, the porch light goes on, and the girl's sister shows up in her pajamas, hair disheveled. In a sleepy voice the sister says: "Dad says to go ahead and give him a kiss. Or I can do it. Or if need be, he'll come down himself and do it. But for crying out loud tell him to take his hand off the intercom button!"
Friday, January 30, 2009
January 30, 2008
Recipe For A Miracle
1 cup Tension
2 cups Stress
1 teaspoon of Guilt
2 heaping cups of Limited Time
3/4 tablespoon of Urgency
A dash of "No Other Choice"
3 heaping cups of Faith
Fold ingredients gently into a bowl. Mix vigorously and add a few tears. You'll sweat a little as you knead the dough.
Pack it firmly between your hopes and dreams and form into a perfect little ball.
Sprinkle it with a little faith (I recommend Hebrews 11), rolling the ball in the flour until fully covered.
Place it under a veil of belief and allow it to rise.
Put it in an oven that has been pre-set at the perfect temperature for the heat of trials and tribulations.
Allow it to brown under the warmth of God's love. Remove after due season and allow to cool in the confidence of His promise.
Garnish with your praises. Arrange neatly on a platter of thankfulness and serve to friends, families and, oh yes, strangers . . . invite them too!
Pass on the recipe to all who request it and let them know that with this recipe, they have the makings of a miracle!
Recipe For A Miracle
1 cup Tension
2 cups Stress
1 teaspoon of Guilt
2 heaping cups of Limited Time
3/4 tablespoon of Urgency
A dash of "No Other Choice"
3 heaping cups of Faith
Fold ingredients gently into a bowl. Mix vigorously and add a few tears. You'll sweat a little as you knead the dough.
Pack it firmly between your hopes and dreams and form into a perfect little ball.
Sprinkle it with a little faith (I recommend Hebrews 11), rolling the ball in the flour until fully covered.
Place it under a veil of belief and allow it to rise.
Put it in an oven that has been pre-set at the perfect temperature for the heat of trials and tribulations.
Allow it to brown under the warmth of God's love. Remove after due season and allow to cool in the confidence of His promise.
Garnish with your praises. Arrange neatly on a platter of thankfulness and serve to friends, families and, oh yes, strangers . . . invite them too!
Pass on the recipe to all who request it and let them know that with this recipe, they have the makings of a miracle!
Friday, January 23, 2009
January 23, 2009
Classroom Justice
The rules at a particular university were such that if the professor was not present in the classroom by 15 minutes past the hour, the class was considered a "walk" and the students were free to leave - with no penalties for missing a class.
The class rooms were equipped with the type wall clocks that "jumped" ahead each minute, in a very noticeable fashion. As it turned out, these clocks were also not of the most sophisticated construction. Some enterprising student discovered that if one were to hit the clock with chalkboard erasers, it would cause the clock to "jump" ahead 1 minute.
It became almost daily practice for students to take target practice at the clock - since this particular professor was not the most punctual, and many of the students considered him severely "absent-minded." A few well aimed erasers, and lo and behold, 15 minutes passed on the clock, and class dismissed itself.
Well, when the day for the next exam rolled around, the professor strolled into the room, passed out the exams, and told the students "You have 1 hour on-the-clock to complete the exam."
The professor then proceeded to collect all the erasers from around the room he could find, and then gleefully took aim at the clock. When he had successfully "jumped" the clock forward 1 hour, he closed the exam and collected all the exam papers.
Classroom Justice
The rules at a particular university were such that if the professor was not present in the classroom by 15 minutes past the hour, the class was considered a "walk" and the students were free to leave - with no penalties for missing a class.
The class rooms were equipped with the type wall clocks that "jumped" ahead each minute, in a very noticeable fashion. As it turned out, these clocks were also not of the most sophisticated construction. Some enterprising student discovered that if one were to hit the clock with chalkboard erasers, it would cause the clock to "jump" ahead 1 minute.
It became almost daily practice for students to take target practice at the clock - since this particular professor was not the most punctual, and many of the students considered him severely "absent-minded." A few well aimed erasers, and lo and behold, 15 minutes passed on the clock, and class dismissed itself.
Well, when the day for the next exam rolled around, the professor strolled into the room, passed out the exams, and told the students "You have 1 hour on-the-clock to complete the exam."
The professor then proceeded to collect all the erasers from around the room he could find, and then gleefully took aim at the clock. When he had successfully "jumped" the clock forward 1 hour, he closed the exam and collected all the exam papers.
January 22, 2009
Drug Problem
The other day, someone at a store in our town read that a Meth lab had been found in an old farmhouse in the adjoining county and he asked me a rhetorical question.
'Why didn't we have a drug problem when you and I were growing up?'
I replied, I had a drug problem when I was young: I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for weddings and funerals. I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter the weather.
I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults. I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or if I didn't put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.
I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if I uttered a profanity.
I was drug out to pull weeds in mom's garden and flowerbeds and cocklebur's out of dad's fields.
I was drug to the homes of family, friends and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline, or chop some firewood; and, if my mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the woodshed.
Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my behavior in everything I do, say, or think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin; and, if today's children had this kind of drug problem, America would be a better place.
God bless the parents who drug us to where we should be.
Drug Problem
The other day, someone at a store in our town read that a Meth lab had been found in an old farmhouse in the adjoining county and he asked me a rhetorical question.
'Why didn't we have a drug problem when you and I were growing up?'
I replied, I had a drug problem when I was young: I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for weddings and funerals. I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter the weather.
I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults. I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or if I didn't put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.
I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if I uttered a profanity.
I was drug out to pull weeds in mom's garden and flowerbeds and cocklebur's out of dad's fields.
I was drug to the homes of family, friends and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline, or chop some firewood; and, if my mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the woodshed.
Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my behavior in everything I do, say, or think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin; and, if today's children had this kind of drug problem, America would be a better place.
God bless the parents who drug us to where we should be.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
January 21, 2009
Skiing Tips
So you want to go skiing? Here's a a list of things you can do to help prepare yourself...
Paste a small, wide rubber band around the top half of your head before you go to bed.
If you wear glasses, begin wearing them with glue smeared on the lenses.
Throw away a hundred dollar bill.
Find the nearest ice rink and walk across the ice 20 times in your ski boots, carrying 2 pairs of skis, accessory bag and poles. Sporadically drop things.
Place a small, but angular pebble in your shoes. Line them with crushed ice and tighten a C-clamp around your toes.
Buy a new pair of gloves. Immediately throw one away.
Secure one of your ankles to a bed post and ask a friend to run into you at a high speed.
Go to McDonald's and *insist* on paying $8.50 for a hamburger. Be sure you are in the longest line!
Clip a lift ticket to the zipper of your jacket and ride a motorcycle fast enough to make the ticket lacerate your face.
Drive slowly for 5 hours--anywhere--as long as it's in a snowstorm and you're following an 18 wheeler.
Fill a blender with ice, leave the lid off, hit the pulse button and let the spray blast your face. Leave the ice on your face until it melts. Let it drip into your clothes.
Dress up in as many clothes as you can and then proceed to take them off because you have to go to the bathroom.
Slam your thumb in a car door. Don't go see a doctor.
Repeat all of the above daily until it's time for the REAL thing!
Skiing Tips
So you want to go skiing? Here's a a list of things you can do to help prepare yourself...
Paste a small, wide rubber band around the top half of your head before you go to bed.
If you wear glasses, begin wearing them with glue smeared on the lenses.
Throw away a hundred dollar bill.
Find the nearest ice rink and walk across the ice 20 times in your ski boots, carrying 2 pairs of skis, accessory bag and poles. Sporadically drop things.
Place a small, but angular pebble in your shoes. Line them with crushed ice and tighten a C-clamp around your toes.
Buy a new pair of gloves. Immediately throw one away.
Secure one of your ankles to a bed post and ask a friend to run into you at a high speed.
Go to McDonald's and *insist* on paying $8.50 for a hamburger. Be sure you are in the longest line!
Clip a lift ticket to the zipper of your jacket and ride a motorcycle fast enough to make the ticket lacerate your face.
Drive slowly for 5 hours--anywhere--as long as it's in a snowstorm and you're following an 18 wheeler.
Fill a blender with ice, leave the lid off, hit the pulse button and let the spray blast your face. Leave the ice on your face until it melts. Let it drip into your clothes.
Dress up in as many clothes as you can and then proceed to take them off because you have to go to the bathroom.
Slam your thumb in a car door. Don't go see a doctor.
Repeat all of the above daily until it's time for the REAL thing!
Friday, January 16, 2009
January 16, 2009
You Know You're A Mom When . . .
You count the sprinkles on each kid's cupcake to make sure they're equal.
You want to take out a contract on the kid who broke your child's favorite toy and made him/her cry.
You have time to shave only one leg at a time.
You hide in the bathroom to be alone.
You child throws up, and you catch it.
Someone else's kid throws up at a party, and you keep eating.
You consider finger paint to be a controlled substance.
You mastered the art of placing large quanitities of pancakes and eggs on a plate without anything touching.
Your child insists that you read Once Upon a Potty out loud in the lobby of the doctor's office, or, better yet, in the lobby of a Grand Central Station... and you do it.
You hire a sitter because you haven't been out with your husband in ages, then spend half the night talking about and checking on the kids.
You hope ketchup is a vegetable because it's the only one your child eats.
You cling to the high moral ground on toy weapons, while your child chews his toast into the shape of a gun.
You can't bear the thought of your son's first girlfriend.
You hate the thought of his wife even more.
You donate to charities in the hope that your child won't get that disease.
You find yourself cutting your husband's sandwiches into unusual shapes.
You fast-forward through the scene when the hunter shoots Bambi's mother.
You use your own saliva to clean your child's face.
You obsess when your child clings to you upon parting during his first month at school, then obsess when he skips in without looking back the second time.
You can't bear to give away baby clothes--it's so final.
You hear your mother's voice coming out of your mouth when you say, "Not in your good clothes!"
You stop criticizing the way your mother raised you.
You read that the average five-year-old asks 437 questions a day and feel proud that your kid is above average.
You say at least once a day, I'm not cut out for this job, but you know you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
You Know You're A Mom When . . .
You count the sprinkles on each kid's cupcake to make sure they're equal.
You want to take out a contract on the kid who broke your child's favorite toy and made him/her cry.
You have time to shave only one leg at a time.
You hide in the bathroom to be alone.
You child throws up, and you catch it.
Someone else's kid throws up at a party, and you keep eating.
You consider finger paint to be a controlled substance.
You mastered the art of placing large quanitities of pancakes and eggs on a plate without anything touching.
Your child insists that you read Once Upon a Potty out loud in the lobby of the doctor's office, or, better yet, in the lobby of a Grand Central Station... and you do it.
You hire a sitter because you haven't been out with your husband in ages, then spend half the night talking about and checking on the kids.
You hope ketchup is a vegetable because it's the only one your child eats.
You cling to the high moral ground on toy weapons, while your child chews his toast into the shape of a gun.
You can't bear the thought of your son's first girlfriend.
You hate the thought of his wife even more.
You donate to charities in the hope that your child won't get that disease.
You find yourself cutting your husband's sandwiches into unusual shapes.
You fast-forward through the scene when the hunter shoots Bambi's mother.
You use your own saliva to clean your child's face.
You obsess when your child clings to you upon parting during his first month at school, then obsess when he skips in without looking back the second time.
You can't bear to give away baby clothes--it's so final.
You hear your mother's voice coming out of your mouth when you say, "Not in your good clothes!"
You stop criticizing the way your mother raised you.
You read that the average five-year-old asks 437 questions a day and feel proud that your kid is above average.
You say at least once a day, I'm not cut out for this job, but you know you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
January 15, 2009
The Crooked Smile
As we rolled five-year-old Mary into the MRI room, I tried to imagine what she must be feeling. She had suffered a stroke that left half of her body paralyzed, had been hospitalized for treatment of a brain tumor, and had recently lost her father, her mother and her home. We all wondered how Mary would react.
She went into the MRI machine without the slightest protest, and we began the exam. At that time, each imaging sequence required the patient to remain perfectly still for about five minutes. This would have been difficult for anyone - and certainly for a five-year-old who had suffered so much. We were taking an image of her head, so any movement of her face, including talking, would result in image distortion.
About two minutes into the first sequence, we noticed on the video monitor that Mary's mouth was moving. We even heard a muted voice over the intercom. We halted the exam and gently reminded Mary not to talk. She was smiling and promised not to talk.
We reset the machine and started over. Once again we saw her facial movement and heard her voice faintly. What she was saying wasn't clear. Everyone was becoming a little impatient, with a busy schedule that had been put on hold to perform an emergency MRI on Mary.
We went back in and slid Mary out of the machine. Once again, she looked at us with her crooked smile and wasn't upset in the least. The technologist, perhaps a bit gruffly, said, "Mary, you were talking again, and that causes blurry pictures."
Mary's smile remained as she replied, "I wasn't talking. I was singing. You said no talking." We looked at each other, feeling a little silly.
"What were you singing?" someone asked.
"Jesus Loves Me," came the barely perceptible reply. "I always sing `Jesus Loves Me' when I'm happy."
Everyone in the room was speechless. "Happy? How could this little girl be happy?" The technologist and I had to leave the room for a moment to regain our composure as tears began to fall.
Many times since that day, when feeling stresses, unhappy or dissatisfied with some part of my life, I have thought of Mary and felt both humbled and inspired. Her example made me see that happiness is a marvelous gift - free to anyone willing to accept it.
By James C. Brown, M.D.
The Crooked Smile
As we rolled five-year-old Mary into the MRI room, I tried to imagine what she must be feeling. She had suffered a stroke that left half of her body paralyzed, had been hospitalized for treatment of a brain tumor, and had recently lost her father, her mother and her home. We all wondered how Mary would react.
She went into the MRI machine without the slightest protest, and we began the exam. At that time, each imaging sequence required the patient to remain perfectly still for about five minutes. This would have been difficult for anyone - and certainly for a five-year-old who had suffered so much. We were taking an image of her head, so any movement of her face, including talking, would result in image distortion.
About two minutes into the first sequence, we noticed on the video monitor that Mary's mouth was moving. We even heard a muted voice over the intercom. We halted the exam and gently reminded Mary not to talk. She was smiling and promised not to talk.
We reset the machine and started over. Once again we saw her facial movement and heard her voice faintly. What she was saying wasn't clear. Everyone was becoming a little impatient, with a busy schedule that had been put on hold to perform an emergency MRI on Mary.
We went back in and slid Mary out of the machine. Once again, she looked at us with her crooked smile and wasn't upset in the least. The technologist, perhaps a bit gruffly, said, "Mary, you were talking again, and that causes blurry pictures."
Mary's smile remained as she replied, "I wasn't talking. I was singing. You said no talking." We looked at each other, feeling a little silly.
"What were you singing?" someone asked.
"Jesus Loves Me," came the barely perceptible reply. "I always sing `Jesus Loves Me' when I'm happy."
Everyone in the room was speechless. "Happy? How could this little girl be happy?" The technologist and I had to leave the room for a moment to regain our composure as tears began to fall.
Many times since that day, when feeling stresses, unhappy or dissatisfied with some part of my life, I have thought of Mary and felt both humbled and inspired. Her example made me see that happiness is a marvelous gift - free to anyone willing to accept it.
By James C. Brown, M.D.
Monday, January 12, 2009
January 12, 2009
Little Things
When I was in college, I shared an American Thanksgiving supper with friends. We spent the day cooking together – turkey, potatoes, green beans, yams and, of course, dinner rolls. I was in charge of the rolls. Looking back, that may have been a mistake.
I love to eat raw dough. Most any kind will do – cookie dough, cake batter, biscuit dough, bread dough – you get the idea. So I rolled out the yeast dough, sliced off a corner and ate it, rolled some more, sliced and ate, rolled, sliced, ate…. I don't know how much of the dough I consumed before the rolls hit the oven, but I remember it as a wonderful afternoon. Until about a half-hour later.
Yeast, it seems, likes a dark, moist, warm environment. In me, it found one and did what yeast does best – it grew. And grew. And grew.
After a while my stomach was distended and I felt like the Pillsbury Dough Boy with a burping disorder.
It was soon time for supper and I felt too full to eat anything. All of that scrumptious food and I couldn't eat.
That day I gained a new respect for the power of yeast; it doesn't take much to make a big difference.
Little Things
When I was in college, I shared an American Thanksgiving supper with friends. We spent the day cooking together – turkey, potatoes, green beans, yams and, of course, dinner rolls. I was in charge of the rolls. Looking back, that may have been a mistake.
I love to eat raw dough. Most any kind will do – cookie dough, cake batter, biscuit dough, bread dough – you get the idea. So I rolled out the yeast dough, sliced off a corner and ate it, rolled some more, sliced and ate, rolled, sliced, ate…. I don't know how much of the dough I consumed before the rolls hit the oven, but I remember it as a wonderful afternoon. Until about a half-hour later.
Yeast, it seems, likes a dark, moist, warm environment. In me, it found one and did what yeast does best – it grew. And grew. And grew.
After a while my stomach was distended and I felt like the Pillsbury Dough Boy with a burping disorder.
It was soon time for supper and I felt too full to eat anything. All of that scrumptious food and I couldn't eat.
That day I gained a new respect for the power of yeast; it doesn't take much to make a big difference.
Friday, January 09, 2009
January 10, 2009
A Dream That Will Catch Your Heart
written by Steve Goodier
That all-too-quotable Yogi Berra once said, "If you don't know where you are going, you might wind up someplace else." (I think that happened to me once.)
But even if you know where you want to end up, do you REALLY WANT to be there? I'm not talking about traveling now, but where we're going with our lives. Is the dream you are following really that important to you?
Most people are not lazy. They simply have uninspiring goals. They don't accomplish what they set out to do because they lose interest. The dream they are following is simply not that important to them.
But then I think of Dennis Oehler. He ran the 100-meter dash in 11.73 seconds. Record-holder Maurice Greene ran it in 9.79 seconds, almost two seconds faster. So what's the big deal? Maurice Greene has two legs. Dennis Oehler has one. One leg -- and a huge dream.
The truth is -- we are always highly motivated when something means a great deal to us. If I fell into a deep lake and I didn't know how to swim, I would become highly motivated in an instant. Climbing from the lake would mean more to me than anything else in the world. My effort would be no less than astounding and I would suddenly become one of the most excited and enthusiastic persons imaginable.
And that goes for anything that is truly important to us. If we want something badly enough, we will find necessary energy, excitement and drive to grasp it.
Writer Tim Redmond says this about following worthwhile dreams: "There are many things that will catch my eye, but there are only a few that catch my heart...it is those I consider to pursue."
Is your dream big enough -- important enough -- to catch your heart?
~ Steve Goodier ~
A Dream That Will Catch Your Heart
written by Steve Goodier
That all-too-quotable Yogi Berra once said, "If you don't know where you are going, you might wind up someplace else." (I think that happened to me once.)
But even if you know where you want to end up, do you REALLY WANT to be there? I'm not talking about traveling now, but where we're going with our lives. Is the dream you are following really that important to you?
Most people are not lazy. They simply have uninspiring goals. They don't accomplish what they set out to do because they lose interest. The dream they are following is simply not that important to them.
But then I think of Dennis Oehler. He ran the 100-meter dash in 11.73 seconds. Record-holder Maurice Greene ran it in 9.79 seconds, almost two seconds faster. So what's the big deal? Maurice Greene has two legs. Dennis Oehler has one. One leg -- and a huge dream.
The truth is -- we are always highly motivated when something means a great deal to us. If I fell into a deep lake and I didn't know how to swim, I would become highly motivated in an instant. Climbing from the lake would mean more to me than anything else in the world. My effort would be no less than astounding and I would suddenly become one of the most excited and enthusiastic persons imaginable.
And that goes for anything that is truly important to us. If we want something badly enough, we will find necessary energy, excitement and drive to grasp it.
Writer Tim Redmond says this about following worthwhile dreams: "There are many things that will catch my eye, but there are only a few that catch my heart...it is those I consider to pursue."
Is your dream big enough -- important enough -- to catch your heart?
~ Steve Goodier ~
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
December 23, 2008
Dear Santa,
I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground. I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find any more free time in the next 18 years.
Here are my Christmas wishes:
I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze; but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the grocery store.
I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy. If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper
where I can hide to talk on the phone.
On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools. I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off your brother," because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.
If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container.
If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family.
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come in and dry off so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to cookies on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.
Yours Always,
MOM
P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa for many years to come.
Dear Santa,
I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground. I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find any more free time in the next 18 years.
Here are my Christmas wishes:
I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze; but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the grocery store.
I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy. If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper
where I can hide to talk on the phone.
On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools. I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off your brother," because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.
If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container.
If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family.
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come in and dry off so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to cookies on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.
Yours Always,
MOM
P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa for many years to come.
December 22, 2008
There is one Christmas Carol that has always baffles us.
What in the world do leaping lords, French hens,
Swimming swans, and especially the partridge who won't come out of the pear tree have to do with Christmas?
From 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. Someone during that era wrote this carol as a catechism song for young Catholics.
It has two levels of meaning: the surface meaning plus a hidden meaning known only to members of their church. Each element in the carol has a code word for a religious reality which the children could remember.
-The partridge in a pear tree was Jesus Christ.
-Two turtle doves were the Old and New Testaments.
-Three French hens stood for faith, hope and love.
-The four calling birds were the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke & John.
-The five golden rings recalled the Torah or Law, the first five books of the Old Testament.
-The six geese a-laying stood for the six days of creation.
-Seven swans a-swimming represented the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit--Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership and Mercy.
-The eight maids a-milking were the eight beatitudes.
-Nine ladies dancing were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit--Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness and Self-Control.
-The ten lords a-leaping were the ten commandments.
-The eleven pipers piping stood for the eleven faithful disciples.
-The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in the Apostles' Creed.
So there is your history for today. This knowledge was shared with me and I found it interesting and enlightening and now you know how that strange song became a Christmas Carol...
There is one Christmas Carol that has always baffles us.
What in the world do leaping lords, French hens,
Swimming swans, and especially the partridge who won't come out of the pear tree have to do with Christmas?
From 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. Someone during that era wrote this carol as a catechism song for young Catholics.
It has two levels of meaning: the surface meaning plus a hidden meaning known only to members of their church. Each element in the carol has a code word for a religious reality which the children could remember.
-The partridge in a pear tree was Jesus Christ.
-Two turtle doves were the Old and New Testaments.
-Three French hens stood for faith, hope and love.
-The four calling birds were the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke & John.
-The five golden rings recalled the Torah or Law, the first five books of the Old Testament.
-The six geese a-laying stood for the six days of creation.
-Seven swans a-swimming represented the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit--Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership and Mercy.
-The eight maids a-milking were the eight beatitudes.
-Nine ladies dancing were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit--Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness and Self-Control.
-The ten lords a-leaping were the ten commandments.
-The eleven pipers piping stood for the eleven faithful disciples.
-The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in the Apostles' Creed.
So there is your history for today. This knowledge was shared with me and I found it interesting and enlightening and now you know how that strange song became a Christmas Carol...
Friday, December 19, 2008
December 19, 2008
Pick of the week
Who Started This Christmas Stuff?
A woman who was out Christmas shopping with her two children. After many hours of looking at row after row of toys and everything else imaginable; and after hours of hearing both her children asking for everything they saw on those many shelves, she finally made it to the elevator with her two kids. She was feeling what so many of us feel during the holiday season time of the year. Overwhelming pressure to go to every party, every housewarming, taste all the holiday food and treats, getting that perfect gift for every single person on our shopping list, making sure we don't forget anyone on our card list, and the pressure of making sure we respond to everyone who sent us a card.
Finally the elevator doors opened and there was already a crowd in the car. She pushed her way into the car and dragged her two kids in with her and all the bags of stuff. When the doors closed she couldn't take it anymore and stated, "Whoever started this whole Christmas thing should be found, strung up and shot."
From the back of the car everyone heard a quiet calm voice respond, "Don't worry we already crucified Him." For the rest of the trip down the elevator it was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.
Don't forget this year to keep the One who started this whole Christmas thing in your every thought, deed, purchase, and word. If we all did it, just think of how different this whole world would be.
Pick of the week
Who Started This Christmas Stuff?
A woman who was out Christmas shopping with her two children. After many hours of looking at row after row of toys and everything else imaginable; and after hours of hearing both her children asking for everything they saw on those many shelves, she finally made it to the elevator with her two kids. She was feeling what so many of us feel during the holiday season time of the year. Overwhelming pressure to go to every party, every housewarming, taste all the holiday food and treats, getting that perfect gift for every single person on our shopping list, making sure we don't forget anyone on our card list, and the pressure of making sure we respond to everyone who sent us a card.
Finally the elevator doors opened and there was already a crowd in the car. She pushed her way into the car and dragged her two kids in with her and all the bags of stuff. When the doors closed she couldn't take it anymore and stated, "Whoever started this whole Christmas thing should be found, strung up and shot."
From the back of the car everyone heard a quiet calm voice respond, "Don't worry we already crucified Him." For the rest of the trip down the elevator it was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.
Don't forget this year to keep the One who started this whole Christmas thing in your every thought, deed, purchase, and word. If we all did it, just think of how different this whole world would be.
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