Turn, Turn, Turn

The guy from the city went driving in the country one day, but the signs on the road weren't very good. Eventually, he got lost. Finally, he pulled up in front of this farmhouse where he saw an old fellow sitting on the porch.

"Have you lived here all your life?" he asked. The farmer replied, "Not yet!"

"Umm, well, can you tell me how far it is to the town of Mill Pond?"

"Well," said the old farmer, "the way you're goin' it's about 24,996 miles. But if you turn around, it's about four."

And therein lies the definition of repentance.

Paying Attention

A fellow went to a farmer and bought a mule, who assured him that the mule was obedient and would respond to the owner's every command. Yet, no sooner had the man started for home with his new purchase than the stubborn beast stopped in the middle of the road and refused to budge. Nothing the man tried could get it to move.

He walked back to the farmer, doing a slow burn. He accused him of false advertising.

The farmer said scarcely a word. He picked up a two-by-four and gestured to the man to come with him. The two of them walked down the road to where the mule was standing. The farmer hit the beast over the head with the two-by-four and said, "Move!" The animal complied.

"What's that all about?" demanded the mule's new owner. "You promised he'd obey my command!"

"He will," said the farmer, "but first you have to get his attention."

How do YOU respond to God's call? Do you listen to His still small voice and obey, or does He have to hit you in the head with a two-by-four to get your attention?

The Old Rugged Cross

Clarence Jordan, author of the Cotton Patch New Testament translation, was getting a red-carpet tour of another minister's church. With pride the minister pointed to the rich, imported pews and luxurious decorations. As they stepped outside, darkness was falling, and a spotlight shone on a huge cross atop the steeple.

"That cross alone cost us $10,000," the minister said with a satisfied smile.

"You got cheated," said Jordan. "Times were when Christians could get them for free."

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Hard Work

There is an ancient Roman aqueduct near the Spanish city of Segovia. An aqueduct is a sort of elevated trestle over which water flows. This one was constructed in the year A.D. 109. For 1800 years, the aqueduct carried cool water from the mountains to the hot and thirsty city. As many as 60 generations depended on this marvel of engineering for their drinking water.

Then came another generation, in more recent years, who said to each other, "This aqueduct is an architectural marvel. It's a historical treasure that ought to be preserved. We should give it a well-earned rest."

That's exactly what they did. They detoured the water flow away from the ancient stones and channeled it through modern pipes. They put up historical markers so tourists would know who had constructed the aqueduct, and for what purpose. They celebrated the fact that their city's water system was now modern in every way.

But then, a strange thing began to happen. The Roman aqueduct began to fall apart. The sun beating down on its dry mortar, without the constant flow of water to cool it, caused to to crumble. In time, the massive structural stones threatened to fall. What 18 centuries of hard service had not been able to destroy, a few years of idleness nearly did.

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Leaning on the Everlasting Arms

In Mourning into Dancing, Walter Wangerin tells an event in his childhood. He said he always told people that his daddy was stronger than anyone else in the world. Now, in those childhood days, a cherry tree grew in their back yard, and it was Walter's favorite hiding place. Ten feet above the ground there was a stout limb that made a horizontal fork, a cradle in which he could like face down, reading, thinking, being alone. Nobody bothered him there. Even his parents didn't know where he went to hide. Sometimes Dad would come out and call, "Wally? Wally?" but wouldn't see him hidden among the leaves. "I felt very tricky," Wangerin recalls.

But one day a wind tore through their backyard and hit the tree with such force that it tore the book Wally was reading from his hands and threw him from his limb. Hear the story as he tells it.

Then came the thunderstorm ... It was usual for me to dream in my tree and therefore not to notice changes in the weather. So if the sky grew dark or gave any warning, I didn't see it. [When the wind threw me from my limb] I locked my arms around the forking branches and hung on. My head hung down between them. I tried to wind my legs around the limb, but the whole tree was wallowing in the wind.

"Daddy!" As the wind blew he felt his arms were going to slip from the branches.

"Daddeeeee!"

Daddy saw me, and right away he came out into the wind and weather, and I felt so relieved because I just took it for granted that he would climb up the tree to get me. But that wasn't his plan at all. He came to a spot right below me and lifted his arms and shouted, "Jump!"

"What?"

"Jump, I'll catch you."

I screamed, "No!"

But as the wind continued to blow, he changed his mind. He let go.
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In a fast eternal moment I despaired and I plummeted. 'This,' I thought, 'is what it is like to die!'
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But my father's arms caught me.
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Oh, my daddy -- he had strong arms indeed. Very strong arms. But it wasn't until I actually experienced the strength that I also believed in it.
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Follow the SHEPHERD

.An Episcopalian priest told of this event while leading his parishioners on a tour of the Holy Land. They were bouncing along a lonely dirt road when their Palestinian driver slowed to a stop. A flock of sheep was blocking the road. Behind the sheep a man stood yelling and beating them with something akin to a leather whip. He was trying to make them move on ahead.

Dismayed, the priest commented to the driver, "This is contrary to everything I have ever read in the Bible about a shepherd. I thought a shepherd was supposed to lead and the sheep would follow."

The Arab driver smiled and said, "He's not a shepherd. He's the butcher!"

And so it is when you feel beaten down and berated, driven by fear or criticism, it is NOT the Good Shepherd. It is the DEVIL on your back!

-- Kari Myers

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Guilty Cookies -- A Fable

.One day, a shopper at the local outlet mall felt the need for a coffee break. So she bought herself a little bag of cookies and put them in her shopping bag.

She then go in line for coffee, found a place to sit at one of the crowded tables, and then, taking the lid off her coffee and taking out a magazine, she began to sip her coffee and read.

Across the table from her a man sat reading a newspaper. After a minute or two, she reached out and took a cookie. As she did, the man seated across the table reached out and took one, too. This totally surprised her, but she smiled and didn't say anything.

A few moments later she took another cookie. Once again the man did so, too. Now was a bit irritated. He should get his own cookies and not presume upon her good nature.

After having a couple sips of coffee, she once again took another cookies. So did the gentleman seated across. Now she was upset -- especially since now only one cookie remained. Apparently the man also realized that only one cookie was left. Before she could say anything, he took it, broke it in half, offered half to her, and proceeded to eat the other half himself. Then he smiled at her and, putting the paper under his arm, rose and walked off.

Was she steamed! Her coffee break ruined, already thinking ahead of how she would tell this offense to her family, she folded her magazine, opened her shopping bag ... and there discovered her own unopened bag of cookies.