Friday, January 22, 2010
WalMart Greeter (a new one)
Charley, a new 'retiree greeter' at
Walmart, just couldn't seem to get to work on
time. Every day he was 5, 10, sometimes 15
min utes late.. But he was a good worker
... Really tidy, clean shaven, sharp
minded and a real credit to the company and
obviously demonstrating their "Older
Person Friendly" policies.
One day the boss was in a real quandary
about how to deal with it.
Finally, he called him into the office
for a talk. "Charley, I have to tell you,
I like your work ethic.
You do a bang-up job, but your being late so often is
"Yes, I know boss, and I am working on it."
"Well good. You are a team player. That's what I like to hear.
It's odd though, your coming in late.
I know you're retired from the Armed Forces.
What did they say if you came in late
"They said, 'Good morning, General. Will you have tea or
coffee this morning, Sir?'"
Thursday, January 21, 2010
A new minister was walking with an older, more seasoned minister in the garden one day.
Feeling a bit insecure about what God had for him to do, he was asking the older preacher for some advice. The older preacher walked up to a rosebush and handed the young preacher a rosebud and told him to open it without tearing off any petals.
The young preacher looked in disbelief at the older preacher and was trying to figure out what a rosebud could possibly have to do with his wanting to know the will of God for his life and ministry.
But because of his great respect for the older preacher, he proceeded to try to unfold the rose, while keeping every petal intact. It wasn't long before he realized how impossible this was to do.
Noticing the younger preacher's inability to unfold the rosebud without tearing it, the older preacher began to recite the following poem...
"It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of God's design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.
The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I.
GOD opens this flower so easily,
But in my hands they die.
If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of God's design,
Then how can I have the wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?
So I'll trust in God for leading
Each moment of my day.
I will look to God for guidance
In each step of the way.
The path that lies before me,
Only my Lord knows.
I'll trust God to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose."
Let go and let God unfold your life.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75
cents in my pocket.
Their father was gone.
The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two.
Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared.
Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would
scramble to hide under their beds.
He did manage to leave $15 a week to buy groceries.
Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no
If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I
certainly knew nothing about it.
I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best
homemade dress, loaded them into the rusty
old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job.
The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small
The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to
convince who ever would listen that I
was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job.
Still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was
an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in t hat
had been converted to a truck stop.
It was called the Big Wheel.
An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window
from time to time at all those kids.
She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the
She paid 65 cents an hour, and I could start that night.
I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for
I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night.
She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep
This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal.
That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers, we all
thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so
I started at the Big Wheel.
When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home
with one dollar of my tip money--
fully half of what I averaged every night.
As the weeks went by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage.
The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to
leak. I had to fill them with air on
the way to work and again every morning before I could go home.
One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four
tires in the back seat. New tires!
There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires.
Had angels taken up residence in Indiana ? I wondered.
I made a deal with the local service station.
In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office.
I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to
do the tires.
I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough.
Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the
I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys.
Then I hid them in the basement so
there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning.
Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys
pants and soon they would be too far
gone to repair.
On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel.
There were the truckers, Les, Frank,
and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe.
A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were
dropping nickels in the pinball machine.
The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the
morning and then left to get home before
the sun came up.
When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning, to
my amazement, my old battered Chevy
was filled full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes.
I quickly opened the driver's side door, crawled inside and kneeled in the
front facing the back seat.
Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box.
Inside was whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10!
I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans.
Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes. There was candy and nuts and
bananas and bags of groceries. There
was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There
was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie
filling and flour. There was whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning
And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll.
As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most
amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was
sobbing with gratitude.
And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious
Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung
out at the Big Wheel truck stop....
THE POWER OF PRAYER. I believe that God only gives three answers to prayer:
2. 'Not yet.'
3. 'I have something better in mind.'
God still sits on the throne, the devil is a liar.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned
to their first ministry, to reopen a church
in suburban Brooklyn , arrived in early October
excited about their opportunities. When they saw
their church, it was very run down and needed
much work. They set a goal to have everything
done in time to have their first service
on Christmas Eve.
T hey worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls,
painting, etc, and on December 18
were ahead of schedule and just about finished.
O n December 19 a terrible tempest - a driving
rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days.
O n the 21st, the pastor went over to the church.
His heart sank when he saw that the roof had
leaked, causing a large area of plaster about
20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall
of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit,
beginning about head high.
T he pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor,
and not knowing what else to do but postpone
the Christmas Eve service, headed home.
On the way he noticed that a local business was
having a flea market type sale for charity, so he
stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful,
handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth
with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross
embroidered right in the center. It was just
the right size to cover the hole in the front
wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.
B y this time it had started to snow. An older
woman running from the opposite direction was
trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor
invited her to wait in the warm church for
the next bus 45 minutes later.
She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor
while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put
up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor
could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and
it covered up the entire problem area.
T hen he noticed the woman walking down the center
aisle. Her face was like a sheet. "Pastor,"
she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?"
The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check
the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into
it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had
made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria .
T he woman could hardly believe it as the pastor
told how he had just gotten "The Tablecloth". The
woman explained that before the war she and
her husband were well-to-do people in Austria .
When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave.
Her husband was going to follow her the next week.
He was captured, sent to prison and she never saw her
husband or her home again.
T he pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth;
but she made the pastor keep it for the church.
The pastor insisted on driving her home. That
was the least he could do. She lived on the other
side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn
for the day for a housecleaning job.
W hat a wonderful service they had on Christmas
Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the
spirit were great. At the end of the service, the
pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door
and many said that they would return.
One older man, whom the pastor recognized
from the neighborhood continued to sit in one of the
pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he
The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on
the front wall because it was identical to one
that his wife had made years ago when
they lived in Austria before the war and how
could there be two tablecloths so much alike?
H e told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he
forced his wife to flee for her safety and he was
supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and
put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home
again all the 35 years between.
T he pastor asked him if he would allow him to
take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten
Island and to the same house where the pastor
had taken the woman three days earlier.
H e helped the man climb the three flights of
stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on
the door and he saw the greatest Christmas
reunion he could ever imagine.
T rue Story - submitted by Pastor Rob Reid
who says God does work in mysterious ways.
I asked the Lord to bless you as I prayed for
you today, to guide you and protect you as you go
along your way. His love is always with you. His
promises are true, and when we give Him all our
cares we know He will see us through.
W hen there is nothing left but God, that is when
you find out that God is all you need
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