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THis story is true and very sad. Please read and pass on. My name is Chris, I am three, My eyes are swollen, I cannot see. I must be stupid, I must be bad, What else could have made, My daddy so mad? I wish I were better, I wish I weren't ugly, Then maybe my mommy, Would still want to hug me. I can't do a wrong, I can't speak at all, Or else I'm locked up, All day long. When I'm awake I'm all alone, The house is dark, My parents aren't home. When my mommy does come home, I'll try and be nice, So maybe I'll just get, One whipping tonight. I just heard a car, My daddy is back, From Charlie's Bar. I hear him curse, My name is called. I press myself, Against the wall. I try to hide, From his evil eyes. I'm so afraid now, I'm starting to cry. He finds me weeping, Calls me ugly words, He says its my fault, He suffers at work. He slaps and hits me, And yells at me more. I finally get free, And run to the door, Hes already locked it, And I start to bawl. He takes me and throws me, Against the hard wall, I fall to the floor, With my bones nearly broken, And my daddy continues, With more bad words spoken. I finally scream, 'I'm Sorry', But its now much to late. His face has been twisted, Into a unimaginable shape. The hurt and the pain, Again and again. O please God, have mercy! O please let it end! And he finally stops, And heads for the door, While I lay there motionless, Sprawled on the floor. My name is Chris, I am three, Tonight my daddy, Murdered me. And you can help, Sickens me to the soul. And if you read this, And don't pass it on, I pray for your forgivness. Because you would have to be, One heartless person, To NOT be affected, By this Poem, And because you are affected Do something about it! So all I ask you to do, Is pass this on! IF YOU ARE AGAINST CHILD ABUSE PLEASE FORWARD THIS TO EVERYONE YOU KNOW!!
There are 12 months/ 12 disciples/ 12 tribes of Israel / Jesus' birth
> celebrated in the 12th month.
> There is nothing attached. Just send this to twelve others. Prayer is
> one of the best free gifts we receive. There is no cost, just a lot of
> reward. Make sure you pray, and pray believing God will answer.
>
> May today be all you need it to be. May the peace of God and the
> freshness of the Holy Spirit rest in your thoughts, rule in your dreams
> tonight, and conquer all your fears. May God manifest himself today in
> ways you have never experienced. May your joys be fulfilled, your dreams
>
> be closer, and your prayers be answered. I pray that faith enters a new
> height for you ; I pray that your territory is enlarged. I pray for
> peace, healing, health, happiness, prosperity, joy, true and undying
> love for God.
>
> Now send this to 12 people within 5 minutes and remember to send this
> back.... I count as 2, you'll see why.
> Suggestion: copy and paste rather than forward.
>
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> This is the greatest message and advice put in such a wonderful way.
>
>
> Dancing With God
>
> When I meditated on the word Guidance,
>
> I kept seeing 'dance' at the end of the word
>
> And I remember reading that doing God's will is a lot like dancing.
>
> When two people try to lead, nothing feels right.
>
> The movement doesn't flow with the music,
>
> And everything is quite uncomfortable and jerky.
>
> When one person realizes that, and lets the other lead,
>
> Both bodies begin to flow with the music.
>
> One gives gentle cues, perhaps with a nudge to the back
>
> Or by pressing Lightly in one direction or another.
>
> It's as if two become one body, moving beautifully.
>
> The dance takes surrender, willingness,
>
> And attentiveness from one person
>
> And gentle guidance and skill from the other.
>
> My eyes drew back to the word Guidance.
>
> When I saw 'G': I thought of God, followed by 'u' and 'i'.
>
> 'God, 'u' and 'i' dance.' God, you, and I dance.
>
> As I lowered my head, I became willing to trust that I would get guidance about my life and once again, I became willing to let God lead.
>
> My prayer for you today is that God's blessings
>
> And mercies are upon you on this day and everyday.
>
> May you abide in God, as God abides in you.
>
> Dance together with God,
>
> Trusting God to lead and to guide you through each season of your life.
>
> This prayer is powerful and there is nothing attached.
>
> If God has done anything for you in your life,
>
> Please share this message with someone else.
>
> There is no cost but a lot of rewards; so let's continue to pray for one another.
>
> And I Hope You Dance !
Why did Jesus fold the linen burial cloth after His
resurrection?
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 at the head of that stony coffin.
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 out ran 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 t he linen wrappings lying
there, while the cloth that had covered Jesus' head was folded up and
lying to the side.
Is 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 Ser vant, and
every Jewish boy knew this tradition. When the servant set the di nner
table for the master, he made sure that i t was e xactly 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 t able
wipe his fingers and mouth with that napkin and toss it on to 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
knew that the folded napkin meant, 'I'm not finished yet.'
The folded napkin meant, 'I'm coming back!'
IF YOU BELEIVE HE IS COMING BACK - PASS IT ON, I DID!
Sex against a fence
The husband leans over and asks his wife, 'Do you remember the
first time we had sex together over fifty years ago? We went behind this very tavern where you leaned against the back fence and I made love to you.'
'Yes', she says, 'I remember it well.'
'OK,' he says, 'How about taking a stroll around there again and we can do it for old time's sake?'
'Oh Charlie, you old devil, that sounds like a crazy, but good idea!'
A police officer sitting in the next booth heard their conversation and, having a chuckle to himself, he thinks to himself, I've got to see these two old-timers having sex against a fence. I'll just keep an eye on them so there's no trouble. So he follows them.
The elderly couple walks haltingly along, leaning on each other for support aided by walking sticks.
Finally, they get to the back of the tavern and make their way to the fence.. The old lady lifts her skirt and the old man
drops his trousers. As she leans against the fence, the old man moves in. Then suddenly they erupt into the most furious sex that the policeman has ever seen
This goes on for about ten minutes while both are making loud noises and moaning and screaming. Finally, they both collapse, panting on the ground.
The policeman is amazed. He thinks he has learned something about life and old age that he didn't know.
After about half an hour of lying on the ground recovering, the old couple struggle to their feet and put their clothes back on.
The policeman is still watching and thinks to himself, this is truly amazing...
I've got to ask them what their secret is.
So, as the couple passes, he says to them,' Excuse me, but that was something else. You must've had a fantastic sex life together. Is there some sort of secret to this?'
Shaking, the old man is barely able to reply, 'Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence.'
TWO OLD MEN DECIDE THEY ARE CLOSE TO
THEIR LAST DAYS AND DECIDE TO HAVE A LAST
NIGHT ON THE TOWN. AFTER A FEW DRINKS,
THEY END UP AT THE LOCAL BROTHEL
THE MADAM TAKES ONE LOOK AT THE TWO OLD
GEEZERS AND WHISPERS TO HER MANAGER, 'GO
UP TO THE FIRST TWO BEDROOMS AND PUT AN
INFLATED DOLL IN EACH BED. THESE TWO ARE
SO OLD AND DRUNK, I'M NOT WASTING TWO OF
MY GIRLS ON THEM. THEY WON'T KNOW THE
DIFFERENCE.'
THE MANAGER DOES AS HE IS TOLD AND THE TWO
OLD MEN GO UPSTAIRS AND TAKE CARE OF THEIR
BUSINESS.
AS THEY ARE WALKING HOME THE FIRST MAN SAYS,
YOU KNOW, I THINK MY GIRL WAS DEAD!'
'DEAD?' SAYS HIS FRIEND, 'WHY DO YOU SAY THAT?'
'WELL, SHE NEVER MOVED OR MADE A SOUND ALL
THE TIME I WAS LOVING HER.'
HIS FRIEND SAYS, ' COULD BE WORSE I THINK MINE
WAS A WITCH.'
'A WITCH ??. . WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU SAY
THAT?'
'WELL, I WAS MAKING LOVE TO HER, KISSING HER
ON THE NECK, AND I GAVE HER A LITTLE BITE, THEN
SHE FARTED AND FLEW OUT THE WINDOW... TOOK
MY TEETH WITH HER!'
A man escapes from a prison
>> >
>> > Subject: A man escapes from a prison
>> >
>> > > A man escapes from a prison where he's
been locked up for 15 years.
>> > > He
>> > > breaks into a house to look for money and
guns. Inside, he finds a
>> > > young
>> > > couple in bed. He orders the guy out of
bed and ties him to a chair.
>> > > While
>> >
>> > > tying the homeowner's wife to the bed, the
convict gets on top of
>> > > her,
>> > > kisses her neck, then gets up and goes
into the bathroom.
>> > > While he's in there, the husband whispers
over to his wife:
>> > "Listen, this
>> > > guy is an escaped convict. Look at his
clothes! He's probably spent a
>> > lot
>> > > of time in jail and hasn't seen a woman in
years. I saw how he kissed
>> > your
>> >
>> > > neck. If he wants sex, don't resist, don't
complain.....do
>> > whatever he
>> > > tells you. Satisfy him no matter how much
he nauseates you. This guy
>> > > is
>> > > obviously very dangerous. If he gets
angry, he'll kill us both. Be
>> > strong,
>> >
>> > > honey. I love you!"
>> > > His wife responds: "He wasn't kissing my
neck - he was whispering
>> > in my
>> > > ear. He told me that he's gay, thinks
you're cute, and asked if we
>> > had any
>> >
>> > > Vaseline. I told him it was in the
bathroom. Be strong. I love you,
>> > too."
>> > >
Mothers
If you send this to just one person, it should make it all the way around the world by Mother's Day.
This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, 'It's okay honey, Mommy's here.'
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
This for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars.
And that when their kids asked, 'Did you see me, Mom?' they could say, 'Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world,' and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.
For all the mothers who read 'Goodnight, Moon' twice a night for a year. And then read it again. 'Just one more time.'
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls 'Mom?' in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at college ~or have their own families.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips?
The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it in her heart?
Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?
The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home?
Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation... And mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
Single mothers and married mothers.
Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. For all of us...
Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can. Tell them every day that we love them. And pray and never stop being a mom..
Please pass along to all the Moms in your life.
'Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall.'
Please pass this to a wonderful mother or mother figure you know.
(I just did!)
Homemade Brownies
Last week, I walked into my office to find a sandwich bag on my desk containing three chewy, tasty, homemade chocolate brownies. Some thoughtful and anonymous person who knew my love for tasty homemade brownies had placed them there, along with a hand written short story. I immediately sat down and began eating the first chewy, tasty, homemade brownie as I read the following story:
Two teenagers asked their father if they could go the theater to watch a movie that all their friends had seen. After reading some reviews about the movie on the Internet, he denied their request.
Come on dad, why not? They complained. The movie is rated PG-13, and we are both older than thirteen!
Dad replied: Because that movie contains nudity and portrays immorality as being normal and acceptable behavior.
But dad, those are just very small parts of the movie! That's what our friends who've seen it have told us. The movie is two hours long and those scenes are just a few minutes of the total film! It's based on a true story and good triumphs over evil, and there are other redeeming themes like courage and self-sacrifice. Even the movie review websites say that!
My answer is no and that is my final answer. You are welcome to stay home tonight, invite some of your friends over, and watch one of the good videos we have in our home collection. But you will not go and watch that film. End of discussion.
The two teenagers walked dejectedly into the family room and slumped down on the couch. As they sulked, they were surprised to hear the sounds of their father preparing something in the kitchen. They soon recognized the wonderful aroma of brownies baking in the oven, and one of the teenagers said to the other, "Dad must be feeling guilty, and now he's going to try to make it up to us with some fresh brownies. Maybe we can soften him with lots of praise when he brings them out to us and persuade him to let us go to the movie he refused to let us see."
About that time I began eating the second brownie from the sandwich bag and wondered if there was some connection to the brownies I was eating and the brownies in the story. I kept reading...
The teens were not disappointed. Soon their father appeared with a plate of warm brownies, which he offered to his kids. They each took one. Then their father said, before you eat, I want to tell you something: I love you both so much.
The teenagers smiled at each other with knowing glances. Dad was softening.
That is why I've made these brownies with the very best ingredients. I've made them from scratch. Most of the ingredients are even organic.
The best organic flour. The best free-range eggs. The best organic sugar. Premium vanilla and chocolate.
The brownies looked mouth-watering, and the teens began to become a little impatient with their dad's long speech.
But I want to be perfectly honest with you. There is one ingredient I added that is not usually found in brownies. I got that ingredient from our own back yard. But you don't need to worry, because I only added the tiniest bit of that ingredient to your brownies. The amount of the portion is practically insignificant. So go ahead, take a bite and let me know what you think.
Dad, would you mind telling us what that mystery ingredient is before we eat?
Why? The portion I added was so small. Just a teaspoonful. You won't even taste it.
Come on, dad; just tell us what that ingredient is.
Don't worry! It is organic, just like the other ingredients.
Dad!
Well, OK, if you insist. That secret ingredient is fresh organic...dog poop.
I immediately stopped chewing that second brownie and I spit it out into the wastebasket by my desk. I continued reading, now fearful of the paragraphs that still remained.
Both teens instantly dropped their brownies back on the plate and began inspecting their fingers with horror.
DAD! Why did you do that? You've tortured us by making us smell those brownies cooking for the last half hour, and now you tell us that you added dog poop! We can't eat these brownies!
Why not? The amount of dog poop is very small compared to the rest of the ingredients. It won't hurt you. It's been cooked right along with the other ingredients. You won't even taste it. It has the same consistency as the brownies. Go ahead and eat!
No, Dad...NEVER!
And that is the same reason I won't allow you to go watch that movie. You won't tolerate a little dog poop in your brownies, so why should you tolerate a little immorality in your movies? We pray that God will not lead us unto temptation, so how can we in good conscience entertain ourselves with something that will imprint a sinful image in our minds that will lead us into temptation long after we first see it?
I discarded what remained of the second brownie as well as the entire untouched third brownie. What had been irresistible a minute go had become detestable. And only because of the very slim chance that what I was eating was slightly polluted. (Surely it wasn't...but I couldn't convince myself.)
What a good lesson about purity! Why do we tolerate any sin? On the day of the Passover, the Israelites were commanded to remove every bit of leaven from their homes. Sin is like leaven or yeast - a little bit makes the whole bowl of dough rise.
(1Corinthians 5:6, 7), faith and sin, don't mix
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