Archive for the ‘Religion’ Category.

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by Walter Wangerin, Jr.

I saw a strange sight. I stumbled upon a story most strange, like nothing my life, my street sense, my sly tongue had ever prepared me for.

Even before the dawn one Friday morning I noticed a young man, handsome and strong, walking the alleys of our City. He was pulling an old cart filled with clothes both bright and new, and he was calling in a clear, tenor voice: “Rags!” Ah, the air was foul and the first light filthy to be crossed by such sweet music.

“Rags! New rags for old! I take your tired rags! Rags!”

“Now, this is a wonder,” I thought to myself, for the man stood six-feet-four, and his arms were like tree limbs, hard and muscular, and his eyes flashed intelligence. Could he find no better job than this, to be a ragman in the inner city?

I followed him. My curiosity drove me. And I wasn’t disappointed.

Soon the Ragman saw a woman sitting on her back porch. She was sobbing into a handkerchief, sighing, and shedding a thousand tears. Her knees and elbows made a sad X. Her shoulders shook. Her heart was breaking.

The Ragman stopped his cart. Quietly, he walked to the woman, stepping round tin cans, dead toys, and Pampers.

“Give me your rag,” he said so gently, “and I’ll give you another.”

He slipped the handkerchief from her eyes. She looked up, and he laid across her palm a linen cloth so clean and new that it shined. She blinked from the gift to the giver.

Then, as he began to pull his cart again, the Ragman did a strange thing: he put her stained handkerchief to his own face; and then HE began to weep, to sob as grievously as she had done, his shoulders shaking. Yet she was left without a tear.

“This IS a wonder,” I breathed to myself, and I followed the sobbing Ragman like a child who cannot turn away from mystery.

“Rags! Rags! New rags for old!”

In a little while, when the sky showed grey behind the rooftops and I could see the shredded curtains hanging out black windows, the Ragman came upon a girl whose head was wrapped in a bandage, whose eyes were empty. Blood soaked her bandage. A single line of blood ran down her cheek.

Now the tall Ragman looked upon this child with pity, and he drew a lovely yellow bonnet from his cart.

“Give me your rag,” he said, tracing his own line on her cheek, “and I’ll give you mine.”

The child could only gaze at him while he loosened the bandage, removed it, and tied it to his own head. The bonnet he set on hers. And I gasped at what I saw: for with the bandage went the wound! Against his brow it ran a darker, more substantial blood – his own!

“Rags! Rags! I take old rags!” cried the sobbing, bleeding, strong, intelligent Ragman.

The sun hurt both the sky, now, and my eyes; the Ragman seemed more and more to hurry.

“Are you going to work?” he asked a man who leaned against a telephone pole. The man shook his head.

The Ragman pressed him: “Do you have a job?”

“Are you crazy?” sneered the other. He pulled away from the pole, revealing the right sleeve of his jacket – flat, the cuff stuffed into the pocket. He had no arm.

“So,” said the Ragman. “Give me your jacket, and I’ll give you mine.”

Such quiet authority in his voice!

The one-armed man took off his jacket. So did the Ragman – and I trembled at what I saw: for the Ragman’s arm stayed in its sleeve, and when the other put it on he had two good arms, thick as tree limbs; but the Ragman had only one.

“Go to work,” he said.

After that he found a drunk, lying unconscious beneath an army blanket, and old man, hunched, wizened, and sick. He took that blanket and wrapped it round himself, but for the drunk he left new clothes.

And now I had to run to keep up with the Ragman. Though he was weeping uncontrollably, and bleeding freely at the forehead, pulling his cart with one arm, stumbling for drunkenness, falling again and again, exhausted, old, old, and sick, yet he went with terrible speed. On spider’s legs he skittered through the alleys of the City, this mile and the next, until he came to its limits, and then he rushed beyond.

I wept to see the change in this man. I hurt to see his sorrow. And yet I needed to see where he was going in such haste, perhaps to know what drove him so.

The little old Ragman – he came to a landfill. He came to the garbage pits. And then I wanted to help him in what he did, but I hung back, hiding. He climbed a hill. With tormented labor he cleared a little space on that hill. Then he sighed. He lay down. He pillowed his head on a handkerchief and a jacket. He covered his bones with an army blanket. And he died.

Oh, how I cried to witness that death! I slumped in a junked car and wailed and mourned as one who has no hope – because I had come to love the Ragman. Every other face had faded in the wonder of this man, and I cherished him; but he died. I sobbed myself to sleep.

I did not know – how could I know? – that I slept through Friday night and Saturday and its night, too.

But then, on Sunday morning, I was wakened by a violence.

Light – pure, hard, demanding light – slammed against my sour face, and I blinked, and I looked, and I saw the last and the first wonder of all. There was the Ragman, folding the blanket most carefully, a scar on his forehead, but alive! And, besides that, healthy! There was no sign of sorrow nor of age, and all the rags that he had gathered shined for cleanliness.

Well, then I lowered my head and trembling for all that I had seen, I myself walked up to the Ragman. I told him my name with shame, for I was a sorry figure next to him. Then I took off all my clothes in that place, and I said to him with dear yearning in my voice: “Dress me.”

He dressed me. My Lord, he put new rags on me, and I am a wonder beside him. The Ragman, the Ragman, the Christ!

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Three guys were tried for crimes against humanity.
Two guys committed crimes.
One guy didn’t.

Three guys were given government trials.
Two guys had fair trials.
One guy didn’t.

Three guys were whipped and beaten.
Two guys had it coming.
One guy didn’t.

Three guys were given crosses to carry.
Two guys earned their crosses.
One guy didn’t.

Three guys were mocked and spit at along the way.
Two guys cursed and spit back.
One guy didn’t.

Three guys were nailed to crosses.
Two guys deserved it.
One guy didn’t.

Three guys agonized over their abandonment.
Two guys had reason to be abandoned.
One guy didn’t.

Three guys talked while hanging on their crosses.
Two guys argued.
One guy didn’t.

Three guys knew death was coming.
Two guys resisted.
One guy didn’t.

One.
Two.
Three guys died on three crosses.

Three days later.
Two guys remained in their graves.
One guy didn’t.

Author Unknown

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In Jesus time, the dogwood grew
To a stately size and a lovely hue.

‘Twas strong & firm its branches interwoven
For the cross of Christ its timbers were chosen.

Seeing the distress at this use of their wood
Christ made a promise which still holds good:

“Never again shall the dogwood grow
Large enough to be used so

Slender & twisted, it shall be
With blossoms like the cross for all to see.

As blood stains the petals marked in brown
The blossom’s center wears a throny crown.

All who see it will remember me
Crucified on a cross from the dogwood tree.

Cherished and protected this tree shall be
A reminder to all of my agony.”

- Unknown
Contributed by LMMyers

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One man, kneeling
alone in the night
Blood and sweat mix
outflowing in fright
Kneeling, praying
prone on the grass
“From my lips, Father,
let this cup pass.”

One man, standing
scorned, flogged, and beat
Harsh words still echo
there in the heat
“He is no king,”
he heard them cry
“Give us Barabbas!
and him — CRUCIFY!!”

One man, hanging
dying with thieves
Of the thousands who followed
for him, who grieves?
Friends watch at a distance
afraid to go near
Their whole worlds are shattered
their hearts filled with fear.

One man lived and died
in a rich grave was laid
For His blood was shed
that our debt be paid.
But death could not hold Him
resurrected He stands
To him who is weary
outstretched are His hands
In Christ there is rest
a requiem from strife
To him who believes
He will grant eternal life.

written by Ryan Corbi
Used with Permission

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Fearing the battle was over
And I’d already lost the war,
I was tired of trying and failing.
I just couldn’t fight anymore.

So, dragging my battle-scarred body,
I crawled to the foot of the cross.
And I sobbed. “Oh please, Father forgive me.
But I tried…I tried.. and still lost.”

Then the air grew silent around me.
I heard his voice just as clear as the dawn:
“Oh, My child, though you are tired and weary,
You can’t stop, you have to go on.”

At the foot of the Cross, where I met Him,
At the foot of the Cross, where He died,
I felt love, as I knelt in His presence.
I felt hope, as I looked in His eyes.

Then He gathered me lovingly to Him,
As around us God’s light clearly shone.
And together we walked though my lifetime
To heal every wound I had known.

I found bits of my dreams, long forgotten,
And pieces of my life on the floor.
But I watched as He tenderly blessed them,
And my life was worth living once more.

I knew then why I had been losing.
I knew why I had not grown.
At the foot of the Cross came the answer:
I’d been fighting the battle alone.

At the foot of the Cross, where I met Him,
At the foot of the Cross, where He died,
Then I knew I could face any challenge
Together–just my Lord and I.

Written by Marcia Krugh Leaser

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There once was a minister whose storefront church was called The Almighty God Tabernacle. One Sunday, this minister was working late, and decided to call his wife before he left for home. The phone rang and rang, but his wife didn’t answer the phone.

The minister hung up and tried again. This time his wife answered right away. He asked her why she hadn’t answered before, but she said that she hadn’t heard the phone ring. The minister brushed it off and didn’t give it a second thought.

The next day the phone the minister used to call his wife began to ring. He answered it and there was a long pause on the other end. Finally, a man quietly asked the minister why he had called the previous night.

The minister couldn’t figure out what the guy was talking about. Then the guy said, “My phone rang and rang, but I didn’t answer.” The minister then remembered the mishap and apologized for disturbing him, explaining that he intended to call his wife.

There was another long pause before the man said, “I was planning to commit suicide on Saturday night, but before I did, I prayed, ‘God if you’re there, and you don’t want me to do this, give me a sign now.’ At that point my phone started to ring. I looked at the caller ID, and it said, ‘Almighty God.’ I was too afraid to answer!”

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1) Prayer is not a “spare wheel” that you pull out when in trouble; it is a “steering wheel” that directs us in the right path throughout life.

2) Do you know why a car’s windshield is so large & the rear view mirror is so small? Because our past is not as important as our future. So, look ahead and move on.

3) Friendship is like a book. It takes a few seconds to burn, but it takes years to write.

4) All things in life are temporary. If going well enjoy it, they will not last forever. If going wrong don’t worry, they can’t last long either.

5) Old friends are like gold! New friends are diamonds! If you get a diamond, don’t forget the gold! Because to hold a diamond, you always need a base of gold!

6) Often when we lose hope and think this is the end, God smiles from above and says, “Relax, it’s just a bend, not the end!

7) When God solves your problems, you have faith in His abilities; when God doesn’t solve your problems He has faith in your abilities.

8) A blind person asked St. Anthony: “Can there be anything worse than losing eye sight?” He replied: “Yes, losing your vision.”

9) When you pray for others, God listens to you and blesses them; and sometimes, when you are safe and happy, remember that someone has prayed for you.

10) Worrying does not take away tomorrow’s troubles; it takes away today’s peace.

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Lindsey Stirling does an amazing rendition of Silent Night, not to mention the cinematography is outstanding!

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The teacher, Ms. Jones, asked her student Patrick Murphy, “What do you do at Christmas time?”

Patrick eagerly addressed the class, “Well Ms. Jones, me and my twelve brothers and sisters go to midnight mass and we sing hymns; then we come home very late and we put mince pies by the back door and hang up our stockings. Then all excited, we go to bed and wait for Father Christmas to come with all our toys.”

“Very nice Patrick,” she said.

“Now Jimmy Brown, what do you do at Christmas?”

“Well, Ms. Jones, me and my sister also go to church with Mom and Dad and we sing carols and we get home ever so late. We put cookies and milk by the chimney and we hang up our stockings. We hardly sleep, waiting for Santa Claus to bring our presents.”

Realizing there was a Jewish boy in the class and not wanting to leave him out of the discussion, she asked, “Now, Isaac Cohen, what do you do at Christmas?”

Isaac said, “Well, it’s the same thing every year. Dad comes home from the office. We all pile into the Rolls Royce; then we drive to Dad’s toy factory. When we get inside, we look at all the empty shelves, and then begin to sing, ‘What A Friend We Have in Jesus.’  Then we all go to the Bahamas.”

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It is amazing how this video was completely done with out anyone speaking a word. Quite beautiful!

 

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Have you ever had a “Jesus hug?”
Do you know what one feels like?
If you’ve never had a “Jesus hug,”
I pray one day you might.

A “Jesus hug” is different,
As far as hugging goes;
It’s a little taste of Heaven,
Here on earth below.

Only those who love the Lord,
Can give a “Jesus hug;”
It conveys God’s grace and mercy,
And unconditional love.

Those who give out “Jesus hugs”
Always seem to somehow know
Just when you’re in need of one
To make your spirit glow.

And if you ever need one
I hope that I will see,
So I can give you a “Jesus hug;”
Just like someone did for me.

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In case you need some help in the prayer department we have listed seven thanksgiving prayers to try out. Ultimately, I am sure who ever you pray to will be happy to hear from you no matter what you say!

Thanksgiving Prayer 1

For an easy and quick prayer this Thanksgiving grace is for you.

Here at the table now we pray,
keep us together day by day.
May this our family circle be
held fast by love and unity. Amen.

Thanksgiving Prayer 2

This Thanksgiving prayer comes from the Bible. Use the Apostle Paul’s words to share your gratitude.

God most provident,
we join all creation in raising to you a hymn of thanksgiving through Jesus Christ your son. For generation upon generation peoples of this land have sung of your bounty; we too offer you praise for the rich harvest we have received at your hands. Bless us and this food which we share with grateful hearts. Continue to make our land fruitful and let our love for you be seen in our pursuit of peace and justice and in our generous response to those in need. Praise and glory to you, Lord God, now and for ever. Amen.

Thanksgiving Prayer 3

With our world engaged in many wars the next prayer are for the soldiers abroad.

Our Father,
we thank you for so many things.

We thank you for our home, our food and all the provision.
We thank you for this great nation.
We thank you for keeping us safe this year.
We thank you for the courage and bravery that our loved one has shown this past year by serving us and all the families of this country.
We thank you for him and ask you to continue to protect and guide him during his time of service.
Bring them all home safely so that we again can gather next year and thank you for even more.
Thank you Father for the meal that has been prepared for us.
We receive it joyfully and bless you for it.
Amen.

Thanksgiving Prayer 4

Give thanks for the turkey itself. Here is a PETA commercial which was banned from television (this is a family website, so the advertisement is not risque, but it is graphic on how turkeys are treated).

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Thanksgiving Prayer 5

Feeling deeply patriotic this Thanksgiving, but not an Obama fan? Here is a prayer you can offer for our 44th president.

Dear God,
We are thankful for your divine provenance that limits presidential terms to four years as we await the coming of Nobama.
Until that time, give Obama eyes so that he may see past GQ magazine,
ears so that he can hear all the tortured screaming,
a brain so that he can make a decision,
and a nose to find his smelly mistakes.
Amen

Thanksgiving Prayer 6

Did you believe a Democrat is not just a political affiliation title, but rather a high calling from the Divine? If so, the below Thanksgiving prayer should reflect your inner most convictions.

Holy, holy God,
We believe that thou art God, and we believe that thou art holy,
and that thou art a holy Democrat, and that thou wilt be a Democrat forever.
Holy God,
We believe that thou hast separated us from our Republican brethren.
We do not believe in the unwise and unsacred traditions of our Republican brethren, which were taught to them by the childishness of their forefathers.
Rather we believe that thou hast elected us to the White House; and also thou hast made it known unto us that we should have majority control of Congress.
Thou art the same yesterday, today, and forever;
and thou hast elected us to save our country from Republican ignorance.
Around us are elected Republicans who, by thy wrath, will be cast down to Hell.
For this justice, O God, we thank thee.
And again we thank thee, O God, that as Democrats we are your chosen and a holy people. Amen.

 

Thanksgiving Prayer 7

If the other six prayers don’t work for you than our final prayer should cover all other aspects of your gratitude this Thanksgiving season.

We come, O Lord, these Autumn days,
With hymns of gratitude and praise.
Harvest of gold the plains adorn,
Rich fruits roll forth from Plenty’s horn;
Thou givest treasures from the rocks;
The little hills are clothed with flocks;
The seas are with their burden white,
And new Thy mercies day and night.
For changing seasons as they go,
For Autumn leaf, for Winter’s snow,
For the green verdure of the Spring,
For life in plant and life on wing,
For Summer with its ripening heat,
For hopes the rounded years complete,
For morn and noon, for night and day,
For light that marks our heavenward way;
For all the blessings of Thy hand,
For freedom in fair freedom’s land,
Pursuits of thrift that bring us wealth,
For schools and churches, peace and health,
For commerce, yielding up her stores,
Brought for man’s use from distant shores;
For countless gifts, O Lord, we raise
Our hymns of gratitude and praise.
Thou settest man in families,
And all his wants the earth supplies;
Of children, be they far or near,
Of children’s children gathered here,
We thank Thee for Thy gracious care,
And lift for them the secret prayer,
As clustered round each social board
We eat and drink, and praise the Lord.

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A member of a certain church, who previously had been attending services regularly, stopped going. After a few weeks, the pastor decided to visit him. It was a chilly evening. The pastor found the man at home alone, sitting before a blazing fire.

Guessing the reason for his pastor’s visit, the man welcomed him, led him to a comfortable chair near the fireplace and waited. The pastor made himself at home but said nothing. In the grave silence, he contemplated the dance of the flames around the burning logs.

After some minutes, the pastor took the fire tongs, carefully picked up a brightly burning ember and placed it to one side of the hearth all alone. Then he sat back in his chair, still silent. The host watched all this in quiet contemplation. As the one lone ember’s flame flickered and diminished, there was a momentary glow and then its fire was no more.

Soon it was cold and dead. Not a word had been spoken since the initial greeting. The Pastor glanced at his watch and realized it was time to leave, he slowly stood up, picked up the cold, dead ember and placed it back in the middle of the fire. Immediately it began to glow, once more with the light and warmth of the burning coals around it.

As the pastor reached the door to leave, his host said with a tear running down his cheek, “Thank you so much for your visit and especially for the fiery sermon. I shall be back in church next Sunday.”

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It’s a nightly tradition. After evening prayers are said, dishes washed, and my three daughters and one son have drifted off into a quiet slumber, I walk into three-year-old Catherine’s room as she peacefully rests. Like many fathers, I look at my beautiful daughter with a mixture of awe and gratitude, thanking God for such a precious gift. The sight of her chest rising and falling with her breath gives my wife Becky and me the ease to go to sleep ourselves.

Catherine, the youngest of our children, was a home-birth baby. In the first year of her life she seemed remarkably healthy. At fourteen months, Catherine’s health unexpectedly and drastically changed. She was irritable and run down so initially we wondered if it was teething or a virus. Catherine began drinking water and urinating constantly. It got to the point that we had to change her diaper and pajamas at least once during the night. We set up a doctor’s appointment. Throughout the day of the appointment, I carried her around the house. She was hardly moving and could barely raise her head off of my shoulder.

I stayed home with the other three children while my wife took her to the doctor’s office. Upon arriving in the doctor’s office, the nurses took one look at her and immediately moved her to the front of the line. As my wife describing the symptoms, the nurse took one of her used diapers and ran a glucose test on the urine. “You need to take her to the hospital immediately,” she told Becky, “We think she has the onset of diabetes.”

My wife called me from the doctor’s office to tell me what had just transpired. As my wife described what they had told her, tears welled up in my eyes. I had worked in a camp for children with diabetes a few years earlier. I was familiar with the condition and knew what it meant for a fifteen-month-old baby to have it. My mind swirled realizing how this would change everything as I quickly arranged for a neighbor to watch the other kids so I could meet Becky at the hospital.

We walked into the emergency room together with Catherine. Once again, Catherine was moved to the front of the line. After drawing her blood and starting an IV they pointed out that she was having small seizures from her extremely high blood sugar. She spent the next two days in the intensive care unit while Becky and I took turns watching over her twenty-four hours a day. I called everyone I knew asking them to please pray for our little girl. Catherine was put on every prayer chain we could think to contact.

We watched anxiously as her small face began to improve and the little girl we loved so much began to return. On her third day in the hospital, one of the nurses brought in a little red wagon filled with stuffed animals and toys. We loaded her in and wheeled a much healthier looking Catherine into a room in the pediatric wing.

In the four days Catherine spent there, Becky and I became experts on the disease. We learned how to monitor her blood sugar levels. Our daughter would depend dearly on us using our knowledge with precision.

Diabetes is an extremely intense disease to deal with in a small child, because you cannot predict when and how much they are going to eat. It requires constant vigilance of testing blood sugar to make sure it does not get too high or too low. There is no room for error. Too high and she could face long term damage such as kidney failure, amputations, loss of feeling, or loss of eyesight. Too low, and she could pass out, have a seizure or even go into a coma and die.

Medical conditions and dealing with them are part of our family’s life now. Since the diagnosis of her condition, all of my other three children have been diagnosed with some sort of autoimmune diseases. As fathers, we all have fears for our children, both for the present and the future. For my daughter Catherine, a very tangible fear is present on a daily basis. If I don’t make sure she has eaten her food after an injection, then she could end up sick at the very least or even have a reaction that poses a significant threat to her life.

For her, the world is a very dangerous place. Things we take for granted-like sneaking an extra few cookies or skipping lunch, can seriously harm her. It is humbling to realize how little control we sometimes have over small things that carry great importance. My wife works in the nutritional supplement industry and there are some in her industry who think that taking the right supplements can cure almost anything. With diabetes there is nothing you can do to stop it. It leaves us with only one perspective; God is in control here. In the end, it is the same for all of us. We can do our best in whatever situation we are placed, but in the end, our life is beyond our control so we best rest in the Lord.

So we pray for her condition often and we pray that some day a cure will be found. And in the meantime, we trust that God does not do things without a reason. He gave us our wonderful daughter, and we know that despite her condition she is perfect in his eyes.

- Chris Cash

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A Maryland woman said she was surprised to find what appears to be an image of Jesus Christ on the top of a used Nintendo Entertainment System she purchased on eBay for $31 this week.

Brittany Wampler, 24, noticed the image shortly after unpacking two NES consoles, she purchased from an eBay seller.

“We were inspecting it for cracks/damage and when we turned it just right into the light, the image showed up,” she said. “Our reaction was mainly curiousity at first. Then as we looked at it closer and ruled out what it couldn’t be, we began to get excited about it.”

Wampler says the image doesn’t seem to have any sticky residue on it, like what would be left after removing a sticker. She said that it appears to be part of the plastic.

“There’s no discernable difference between the surface of the face and the surrounding plastic surface,” she said. “It’s not paint, it’s not a sticker; it’s basically infused into the plastic.”

While there is no way of knowing how the image got on the console, it doesn’t appear to be photoshops.

Wampler dismisses the possibility that this was done as some sort of a joke (she also says she didn’t create the image). However, she isn’t exactly sure she believes it is the result of some higher power either.

“I was raised religious, but I haven’t made up my mind really,” she said, when asked. “I would say I believe in the possibility.”

For now Wampler plans to keep the console as is because she’s not sure what else to do with it.

“If it is Jesus,” she said, “I think we can finally put the big question to bed…What Would Jesus Play?”

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This is so funny and so true!

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Some of these are inside humor for the Mormon crowd, but the rest are quite funny! It will be interesting to see if Mitt’s religion will play that big of a factor if he wins the G.O.P. nominee.

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A mouse looked through a crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife opening a package; what food might it contain?

He was aghast to discover that it was a mouse trap!

Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning, “There is a mouse trap in the house, there is a mouse trap in the house.”

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, “Mr. Mouse, I can tell you this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me; I cannot be bothered by it.”

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, “There is a mouse trap in the house.”

“I am so very sorry Mr. Mouse,” sympathized the pig, “but there is nothing I can do about it but pray; be assured that you are in my prayers.”

The mouse turned to the cow, who sarcastically replied, “Oh no, Mr. Mouse, not a dangerous evil mouse trap; am I in grave danger?”

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house, like the sound of a mouse trap catching its prey. The farmer’s wife rushed to see what was caught.

In the darkness, she did not see that it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught.

The snake bit the farmer’s wife.

The farmer rushed her to the hospital.

She returned home with a fever. Now everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup’s main ingredient.

His wife’s sickness continued so that friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer’s wife did not get well, in fact, she died, and so many people came for her funeral the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide meat for all of them to eat.

So the next time you hear that someone is facing a problem and think that it does not concern you, remember that when the least of us is threatened, we are all at risk.

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A humorous look by Comedy Central’s Stephen Colbert on whether Mormons are weird or not.

The Colbert Report Mon – Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Yahweh or No Way? – Mormons & God’s Poll Numbers
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog Video Archive
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Researchers at the University of Virginia have found that most people perceive a hill to be steeper than it really is, especially if they are tired or carrying a heavy load. When asked to estimate the slope of a hill, test participants consistently misjudged it, thinking a 10-degree slant was about 30 degrees, and rating a 5-degree slope as nearly 20 degrees. Hardly any of them believed they could be that far off.

When we are burdened and exhausted, even a minor problem can seem too big for us to handle. As we encounter a trial in life, we are tempted to sit down at the base of that difficult hill and stay there, convinced that the grade is too steep for us.

That is why we need the encouragement of God’s Word. It draws our attention to our untiring God, who knows our need. Isaiah wrote, “The Creator of the ends of the earth neither faints nor is weary. His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the weak, and to those who have no might – He increases strength” (Isaiah 40:28-29).

Because we so easily misjudge life’s difficulties, we need courage to keep going when we are tempted to quit. Take a step of faith today and join those who depend on the Lord, who run and are not weary, who walk and do not faint (v.31). In His strength, you can conquer any difficult hill.

As we live for Christ and follow Him,
The way may seem quite steep;
But if we trust His grace and strength,
Our steps He will guide and keep.

God always gives enough strength for the next step.

He gives power to the weak, and to those who have no might He increases strength. Isaiah 40:29