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SO He sent me
Posted On 12/21/2006 16:19:27

"So He Sent Me"

A United States Marine was attending some college courses between assignments.
He had completed missions in Iraq and Afghanistan One of the courses had a
professor who was an avowed atheist and a member of the ACLU.

One day the professor shocked the class when he came in and looked to the
ceiling and flatly stated, "God, if you are real, then I want you to knock me off this
platform. I'll give you exactly 15 minutes." The lecture room fell silent. You could hear
a pin drop. Ten minutes went by and the professor proclaimed, "Here I am God. I'm still
waiting."

It got down to the last couple of minutes when the Marine got out of his chair,
went up to the professor, and cold-cocked him knocking him off the platform. The
professor was out cold. The Marine went back to his seat and sat there, silently.

The other students were shocked and stunned and sat there looking on in silence.
The professor eventually came to, noticeably shaken, looked at the Marine and asked,
"What is the matter with you? Why did you do that?" The Marine calmly replied,
"God was too busy today protecting America's Marine's who are protecting your right
to say stupid crap and act like an idiot!.................So, He sent me."


wake up santa
Posted On 12/20/2006 23:52:46
WAKE UP SANTA
 

This is perhaps the cutest Christmas photo going around this year.   Please spread throughout the world for everyone to see, so that maybe...just maybe, someday our world will be as peaceful as this. Merry Christmas!!! In God We Trust.


 


None
Posted On 12/11/2006 00:20:36
 CORINTHIANS 13 – CHRISTMAS VERSION…

If you are a frequent viewer of TCT, you are familiar with the different adages, poems and stories that Tina finds and shares on air. Many, while cute and funny, are also very thought provoking.

Just this week, she came across a Christmas version of 1 Corinthians 13 that we would like to share with you:

First Corinthians 13 - Christmas Version:

If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls, but do not show love to my family, I'm just another decorator.

If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime, but do not show love to my family, I'm just another cook.

If I can work at a soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home, and give all that I have to charity, but do not show love to my family, it profits me nothing.

If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties and sing in the choir's cantata, but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.

 

 

Love stops the cooking to hug the child. Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the spouse.

Love is kind, though harried and tired. Love does not envy another's home that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens.

Love does not yell at the kids to get out of the way, but is thankful that they are there to be in the way.

Love does not give only to those who are able to give in return, but rejoices in giving to those who cannot.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things. Love never fails.

Video games will break, pearl necklaces will be lost, golf clubs will rust. But giving the gift of love will endure forever

(Author Unknown)


A different Christmas Poem
Posted On 12/02/2006 16:00:43
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."


"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ' on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
PLEASE, Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many
people as
you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our
U.S.
Service men and women for our being able to celebrate these
festivities.
Let's
try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people
stop
and
think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for
us.


LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq


Christmas
Posted On 12/02/2006 15:56:59
Dear child,

It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season. Maybe you've forgotten that I wasn't actually born during this time of the year and that it was some of your predecessors who decided to celebrate My birthday on what was actually a time of pagan festival, Although I do appreciate being remembered anytime.

How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth just, GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER. Now, having said that let Me go on.

If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santa's and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all My followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.

Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a "holiday tree" instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can and may remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish. I actually spoke of that one in a teaching explaining who I am in relation to you and what each of our tasks were. If you have forgotten that one, look up John 15: 1 - 8.

If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it.

1. Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know. They tell Me all the time.

2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.

3. Instead of writing George complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sent out this year, why don't you write and tell him that you'll be praying for him and his family this year. Then follow up...it will be nice hearing from you again.

4. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them

5. Pick someone that's hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.

6. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take their own life this season because they feel so alone and hopeless? Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile It could make the difference. Also, you might consider supporting the local Hot-Line. They talk with people like that every day.

7. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn't make so much money on that day, they'd close and let their  employees spend the day at home with their families.

8. If you really want to make a difference, support a missionary, especially one who takes My love and Good News to those who have never heard My name. You may already know someone like that.

9. Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them (and I suspect you don't) buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Marines, the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me. They will make the delivery for you.

10. Finally if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let People know by your actions that you are one of mine.

P.S Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above and get to work. Time is short. I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love. And remember,

I LOVE YOU,
JESUS

     Abundant Blessings!
 
"Where two or three are gathered in my name, there I am among them....


Let it snow
Posted On 12/01/2006 15:43:25
 The Time is coming !!Ho Ho HO

          Let it snow!

 

~You have just been hit with an e-mail snow ball!~

It's the start of.....

Snow Ball Fight  2006!!

& 2007!!

One rule to this game....

You can NOT hit someone who has already hit you!

Now...

go out there and get as many people as you can,

before they get you!

I got you first! and you can't get me back!
Nanee - Nanee - Nanee!
(hehe)


We do not stop playing because we grow old;

we grow old because we stop playing.

Never Be The First To Get Old!!!!! 

Can't WAIT for Christmas!!

 


FOLDED NAPKINS
Posted On 11/06/2006 00:03:06
 
 
  The Folded Napkin ... A Truckers Story


(If this doesn't light your fire ... Your wood is wet!!!)


I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. But I had never had a mentally handicappeD  ! employee and wasn't sure I wanted one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie. He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Downs Syndrome. I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade. The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me;   the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly ! Polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching Some dreaded "truck stop germ" the pairs of white-shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the first few weeks.

I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff  wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truck stop mascot.

After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table.

Our only problem was persuading him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus dishes and glasses onto cart and meticulousl! Y wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag. If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.

Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer.  They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home. That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that ! Morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work.

He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester G! Etting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker
Said that people with Downs Syndrome often have heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months.
A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery, and doing fine. Frannie, the head waitress, let out a war hoop and did ! A little dance in the aisle when she heard the good news. Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of this 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table. Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering look.

He grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he a sked.

"We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay."

"I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was the surgery about?"
Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed: "Yeah, I'm glad he is going to be OK," she said. "But I don't know how he and his Mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getting by as it is." Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables.
Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy to replace Stevie and really didn't want to replace him, the girls were busing their own tables that day until we decided what to do. After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand and a funny look on her face.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I didn't get that table where Belle Ringer and his friends were sitting cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were sitting there when I got back to clean it off," she said. "This was folded and tucked under a coffee cup." She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed "Something For Stevie. Pony Pete asked me what that was all about," she said, "so I told him about Stevie and his Mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving me this." She handed me another paper napkin that had "Something For Stevie" scrawled on its outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds. Frannie loo ked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply: "truckers."

That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work. His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He called 10 times i n the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy. I arranged to have his mother bring him to work. I then met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back. Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting.

"Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast," I said. I took him and his mother by their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me!"

I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room. I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers empty and join the procession. We stopped in front of the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins.

"First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess," I said. I tried to sound stern. Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had "Something for Stevie" printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table.

Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it. I turned to his mother.

"There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. "Happ y Thanksgiving,"

Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well. But you know what's funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table. Best worker I ever hired.

Plant a seed and watch it grow. At this point, you can bury this inspirational message or forward it fulfilling the need! If you shed a tear, hug yourself, because you are a compassionate person.

Well.. Don't just sit there! Send this story on!

Keep it go ing, this

VETERANS DAY 11/11
Posted On 11/05/2006 23:56:46
Keep it moving, please, even if you've seen it before.
 

It is the VETERAN , not the preacher,
who has given us freedom of religion.

It is the
VETERAN , not the reporter,
who has given us freedom of the press.

It is the
VETERAN , not the poet,
who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the
VETERAN , not the campus organizer,
who has given us freedom to assemble.

It is the
VETERAN , not the lawyer,
who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is the
VETERAN , not the politician,
Who has given us the right to vote.

 

It is the
VETERAN ,
who salutes the Flag,




 


It is the veteran,
who serves under the Flag, !


 

ETERNAL REST GRANT THEM O LORD, AND LET PERPETUAL LIGHT SHINE UPON THEM.

VETERANS KNOW THAT THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE HAS NO EXPIRATION DATE.



I don't usually suggest that many emails be forwarded, but I'd be EXTREMELY proud if this one reached as many as possible. We can be very proud of our young men and women in the service no matter where they serve.




God Bless them all!!!

None
Posted On 11/01/2006 23:19:25
More simply put:  "If you don't stand for SOMETHING, you'll fall for ANYTHING!
"True American; Git 'er done"

 
   
  

   It is time to  change from REDNECK  humor to   TRUE  AMERICAN  Humor! Only I don't see it as Humor, but the correct way to   LIVE YOUR  LIFE !  If  you feel the same, pass this on to your True  American friends.  Ya'll know who ya' are...

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if:  
It  never occurred to you to be offended by the ph rase, "One nation, under  God."

You  might be a TRUE AMERICAN if:  You've never protested about seeing the 10 Commandments posted in  public  places.  

You  might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You  still say "Christmas" instead of "Winter Festival."  

You  might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You  bow your head when someone prays.

You  might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You  stand and place your hand over your heart when   they  play the National Anthem.

You  might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You  treat Viet  Nam  vets with great respect, and always have.

You  might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You've  never burned an American flag.

You  might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You  know what you believe and you aren't afraid to say so, no matter who is  listening.

You  might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You  re spect your elders and expect your kids to do the same.  

You  might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You'd  give your last dollar to a friend.

If  you got this email from me, it is because I believe that you, like me, have just  enough   TRUE  AMERICAN in  you to have the same beliefs as those talked about in this email.  
God Bless the U   S  A  !  

Git  'er done!!!!!!!!!!!!




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