ANT, RUBBER TREE PLANT?

Long Long ago there was a song about High Hopes and an ant moving a rubber tree plant. The whole idea was to not give up. The picture of a small ant moving a big rubber tree plant is one like David and Goliath.



I've always liked a challenge and have turned down very few in this life so when I found out that I had two breaks in the water line to my house, one being under the drive way I decided to save myself a LOT of money and do the water line myself. So with the help of a master plumber I sit out.



Now I stand to save myself a large amount of money because to just bust up the drive way was a chunk of change. NO, I'm not that motivated by cash but I recently lost a dear friend by the name of "Shirley", my 1982 CB650 Night Hawk Honda motorcycle and it is hard for me to justify purchasing another bike when i have to send megabucks on plumbing. Hench, the mega project.



OK, Saturday a week ago I began with some assistance from my son-in-law. I had already dug the area that was needed to take the first step which was "pushing" a 3/4" copper pipe under the drive I want bore you with the reasons for certain materials or my reasoning for using certain methods. I will suffice that "Jerry said" and that's enough.



Now everything should have gone smooth and I would not be writing about hopefully being finished this week but... while pushing the copper pipe I got about 3/4 way and ran into something that would not allow the pipe to go an inch further. This meant another effort and when they say push, they mean push so the fatigue had started to set into my arms. Now you push a pipe with the assistance of water shooting through it, so things were rather muddy now. 7/8's the way to completion and another blockage but after some serious effort we finally broken through that one. Exhaustion had set in on me and considering I had the son-in-law working on his birthday I dismissed him and took a break.



I love my son-in-law but he would be the first to admit that he rides the short bus when it comes to understanding how somethings should be done. He works hard and knows a lot of stuff about electronics, computers, music, conducting... OK, maybe I'm the one that should be on the short bus. Anyway, I ended up going behind him digging the trenches deeper, much deeper. Of course the part I was digging was mostly "clay." That sticky heavy industrial type clay. The kind you have to scape off before you can dig any more. GOOD GRIEF!!!!



Sunday afternoon digging. Monday digging. Tuesday digging. Wednesday digging. Thursday digging. Friday digging and finally some pipe laid. Saturday some more digging and then more pipe laying. Close now! Right? Well, after several chunks of wood (2x6) and several chunks of asphalt, one at least 2'x3'x6", I was ready for the master to connect and me do the back fill.

Now I know that it's not over so I'm waiting for the Master plumber to call and say.... so we'll finish this story tomorrow.

Friday Video 09-10 season

The commerical of the year? Maybe.

Make an impact, do something big, make a difference, leave a mark.

I've heard these short statements all my life. Some have been in an effort to motivate me to be more than I was or something I wasn't. Of course you hear them as a lead in to some written story of article.

Let me think... da... Just what does it mean to "Make an Impact."

To do something that leaves a mark that is recognizable by others because of your efforts. Not bad.

Let me think... da... Just what does it mean to "Do Something Big."

To do something in a bigger way than some one else has done... naaaa.

To do something that will have a bigger effect of others because of the effort you put in. OK.

Let me think... da... Just what does it mean to "Make A Difference."

To change something from what it was to something difference but

better.

Let me think... da... Just what does it mean to "Leave A Mark."

To sign your name... naaaa. To leave evidence of your efforts in a positive way.

OK, OK, what is really being said. There are some folk that are simply living. There's not much difference in them and a tree, others live to live, and still others live to survive. BUT there are those who live to give because another has given. Christian folk are like this or most are. They want their time to make a difference, have an impact, do something big, or leave a mark.

The challenge is to simply "LIVE" with a few simple things in mind:

1. God loves you and makes a difference in your life by doing something big by leaving His mark on you.

2. God will supply all your needs.

3. You can do anything with God's help.

4. Nothing you do for God is wrong.

5. God gave you a sound mind.

6. In this world you will tribulation.

I figure it this way. If you want to have an impact, make a difference, do something big, or leave your mark, seek Him and you will find Him. Acknowledge Him and He will direct your path.

BIG BROTHER IS WHAT????

I HAVE SHOULD GREAT RESTRAIN IN COMMENTING ABOUT THE TV SHOW "BIG BROTHER" UNTIL NOW. Good grief!!! The idea of this show is to be the last one in the house and you get $500,000. It doesn't matter that you must sacrifice all you character and morals for some bucks. Of course in this day folk will do a lot for a little cash much less $500,000. All the activity is done in front of the American public on TV and if you are someone that has access you can watch what goes on after the show. Now that is when the four letter words are brought out and the really nasty stuff happens.

Of course there are sexy beautiful girls, hunky guys, and the ... "QUEERS" and they all choose sides and do stupid stuff the entire show.

So I think that gives you an idea of how i feel for about the show. So how why do I watch it? One word... wife! She is obsessed! Recording the stuff for later, talking on the phone about it... good grief!

Big Brother is just another version of the world wide "SOAP OPERA."

I'm sure there will be Big Brother re-runs with guest commentary.

When do I get something?

I see so many people who are constantly wanting something that they think is their "right."

"Rights", as defined by Merrian-Webster's dictionary, "something to which someone has a just claim or which one may properly claim as due, a power of privilege to which one is justly entitled."

"Rights", as defined by Big Bob, "something that is genuinely yours because of payment in a form accepted by mankind whether it be financial, effort based, not free because someone told you it was."

Let's use the example of education, a topic I should know about due to my 36 years in the field. The United States constitution guarantees the right for US citizens to free education. The truth is at the expense of the citizens of the United States. This does not mean free day care for pre-K through 12 grade. This does not mean free breakfast and lunch. This does not mean free transportation to and from anything related to school functions.

To those who want to claim all those "rights" I say, "WHEN DO I GET SOMETHING?" When do I get the respect I have earned by putting up with the disrespect? When do I get the pay I've earned by being on the bottom of the salary scale for 36 years? When do I get the support needed to do what some many think I can but is impossible without support from the family that doesn't exist?

For those who will listen, it is my "right" to expect something different . I've earned it!

WARNING! DANGER AHEAD IN LIFE

I don't care who you are or who your folkes are you are gong to reach the point where it just doesn't mater any more. Heed my caution because it does happened. No matter what the situation that brings you to that point, you will just give out. Maybe you're tired of someone taking credit for your good job or maybe your good jobs go unnoticed or maybe you keep trying and failing or maybe you are not appreciated for your efforts beyond the call of duty or it just doesn't seem that you are making a difference. It might be your boss or their boss or those you work with or your coach or your best friend or your wife or husband or your mother or your father or your brother or your sister or your pastor or your children or your cause or your mission in life but something will bring you to the point that you give up.

When I played football at MSU we would start the year with 2 or 3 weeks of 2 or 3 a-day practices. Each practice was usually 2 1/2 or 3 hours long. It's not like it is now where you got all the water you wanted or could suck oxygen on the side lines. Just as hot but without any special treatment. After the first day a few folk had fallen out from the heat and usually 2 or 3 guys were put in the campus hospital for dehydration. Heck, Gator aid hadn't been out for long. You had blisters on both feet and you had to put corn starch on them because each blister was busted open. You could hear guys yelling out at night because of the leg cramps and if you were lucky you didn't have to go to treatment at 6:00 AM. We were told that we would want to die but that our bodies would stop before we died and then the coaches would take care of us because it was to late to replace us with some freshmen. Every factor to beat you was there, physical exhaustion, mental fatigue, spiritual challenges. They told us it was the way character was built and in the forth quarter when others were giving up we would have the courage to go on. Of course this was with the assumption that that we all would face the same challenges. How about when you are in the forth quarter, you are behind 4 touch downs, you've been on the field 80% of the game, there is only 1 minute left in the game, 90% of the fans in the stands are gone and the rest haven't left because they are the parents and band, you have had the flu but it has been kept quiet so the other team wouldn't fine out and you haven't won but 2 games the entire season.

What do you do? What.... do.... you.... do....? Knowing what you do will have an ever lasting affect on your life what do you do?

Now, there is a point in your life, it's coming, when you give up and say "it just doesn't matter."

You'll tell yourself that "it doesn't matter" but believe me it does. That is the character that isn't made on the field, it's built from experience with things that are greater than we are. don't call it "luck" because there is nothing to doubt about the source.

Some rambling today. Right? Well for all the folk that read this, a little rambling is OK.

GOOD STUFF!

I know I haven't finished the New York adventure yet but I will. I'm figuring that the longer I drag on the more I'll forget. YEP!

This is a New York picture "thang" put together by my baby. Hers and my pictures but her put together. This is also her mission blog.

http://spreadintheloveofchrist.blogspot.com/2009/08/nyc-wrap-up-video-style.html

Cut and paste if you have to.

:)

"China town, my China Town..."

OK, in between our missions we took in some sight seeing. Yep CHINA TOWN! so I have pictures and commentary.

Here you see the Chinese Museum of base ball caps.

Easy to read sign help you get the most of your ... press 3 for Chinese.

Chinese "Stop-n-Go"

Getting information froma "local."

I understand everything.

Who Said That, WAS THAT ME?

Day three in New York

OK, today is day three and I've had to sleep on this micro bed again. I miss that big bed back in the USA where I live.I stayed up last night to study and seek the LORD for a message to the masses today. We are off to St. Paul's Mission to bring spiritual food and a good meal to the homeless. Now the St. Paul's mission is not quiet like St. Paul's. It is a section of a building and no way resembles a mission. After walking and running (in my case a brisk job) to the subway via stairs and more stairs we arrived and were directed to a stair way going down which was almost big enough for me height and width wise. There we found a fairly large room with a few guys drinking coffee. I had been praying ever since my eyes had opened after my brief night's rest that God's Spirit would speak through me and that I would be able to take off "Walden" and put on Jesus.

As we began the numbers increased till we had 40 maybe 50 men and women some what eager to get on with "the day." Some excellent singing and music and then it was my turn...

Now I have to inject something here to show you how He works...

I'd been praying about my future and what I could do when I retired from assistant principling. I've had lot of opportunities to speak for the LORD mostly during high school and college. I did love it so but the time came when I needed to put my efforts into other things like Libby, Anna, and Katie. I've been praying for the opportunity to speak for a long time and here it was. God had answered my prayer,not a grand scale like speaking to hundreds of people but in a no less important stage, the St. Paul's homeless shelter. It was at that moment, that very moment when the last song was sang that I actually felt the "Walden" melt away and the Jesus begin to speak. Nothing that they'll write an article in the New York Times about but a moment it time where Christ reached out to a bunch of homeless hurting needful people and one fat white guy.

I guess to those observing you could say things when OK but to me, I will never be the same. Afterwards we helped put up tables and chairs and as I sled a chair under one table this mid-aged guy came up to me and began to thank me and shared with me the love of God. We both celebrated the love of God right there. I looked deep into his eyes and stared deep inside him. He began to sing "this is the day, this is the day that the LORD has made that the LORD has made. I will rejoice I will rejoice in him.." His voice got softer and softer and found myself singing the next word as if he was waiting for me to sing with him as a confirmation of the presence of God. Yes, we sang the whole song standing there. Me staring at him, he staring at me and the whole while people around us moving tables and chairs. GLORY TO GOD!

WOW! I can close my eyes and see that guy right now.

OK, it was meal time and we brought the food from up stairs to the guys in this lower room and then cleaned the entire place. The same room we had worshiped in a hour before I was now moping. Got hot in there too. I've always been a sweater and today was no different. Soaking wet was the order of the day.

The Bowery Mission Chapel and de choir.

Off we go because we were meeting the others for our second service for the day at the Bowery Mission. More waling, stairs, subways and more stairs. We arrived at the RED DOORS of the Bowery and entered the chapel. A beautiful sanctuary where we would sing and bring another message. Since we had hooked up with the rest of the group they began to practice and I began to pray again. The prayer was the same for the "Walden" to melt away and Jesus take over. This time I had the whole choir and support, not like the 10 at St. Paul's.I wanted them all to experience what I had felt at St. Paul's. I shared with them what our purpose was and that they played a role in everything that would happen. I asked each one to take a pew and pray for those who would sit on that pew being as specific as they could that Christ would speak to them specifically.

As the service began I stood in the back and listened to the choir sing and sing they did. It was clear that they had opened themselves to God's will of telling the Gospel. It prepared the chapel and certainly prepared me. As they ended the singing I began to walk from the back of the chapel telling everyone I passed that "He is here today, He is here for you today." I don't remember much after that but afterwards a bunch came up and said things went well and that the way I added the accent was great. What accent?? Well, I'll never know, but God is good and he answered my prayers and it was a great experience.

I was exhausted after that and after some sight seeing I decided to stay in as the heathen members of the family went to a song a dance restaurant that night.

So what did I learn this day about New York. Well, sounds like another list to me...

What I learned about New York on the third day:

1. New York folk don't smile.

2. New York folk wear sun glasses so you can't see their eyes.

3. They don't put up the stairs at night in New York.

4. God answers prayer, even in New York.

POLOTICS AINT FOR ME.

I'm not into politics but the older I get the more I listen to what might be happening and pay attention to what is happening. I got the letter that is verified as the real deal. Note the author is a very well thought of author and business man.

Check it out:

I saw Neil Cavuto’s interview with Lou Pritchett today on FOX News, and must say that he is a very well-spoken 77-year-old, and a man who knows a thing or two about running a business! Not unlike Gerald Walpin who was shamelessly fired by the Obama administration, for what appear to be completely false reasons, calling him ‘Confused and Disoriented.’ That might be a better description of the typical Obama supporter right now as they suffer from the cognitive dissonance created by loving Obama so much on the one hand, while the economy crumbles, unemployment soars, and our country is being transmogrified right before our very eyes into a nanny state. But without further ado, here’s the aforementioned letter:

An Open Letter to President Obama by Lou Pritchett

Dear President Obama:
You are the thirteenth President under whom I have lived and unlike any of the others, you truly scare me.
You scare me because after months of exposure, I know nothing about you.
You scare me because I do not know how you paid for your expensive Ivy League education and your upscale lifestyle and housing with no visible signs of support.
You scare me because you did not spend the formative years of youth growing up in America and culturally you are not an American.
You scare me because you have never run a company or met a payroll.
You scare me because you have never had military experience, thus don’t understand it at its core.
You scare me because you lack humility and ‘class’, always blaming others.
You scare me because for over half your life you have aligned yourself with radical extremists who hate America and you refuse to publicly denounce these radicals who wish to see America fail.
You scare me because you are a cheerleader for the ‘blame America’ crowd and deliver this message abroad.
You scare me because you want to change America to a European style country where the government sector dominates instead of the private sector.
You scare me because you want to replace our health care system with a government controlled one.
You scare me because you prefer ‘wind mills’ to responsibly capitalizing on our own vast oil, coal and shale reserves.
You scare me because you want to kill the American capitalist goose that lays the golden egg which provides the highest standard of living in the world.
You scare me because you have begun to use ‘extortion’ tactics against certain banks and corporations.
You scare me because your own political party shrinks from challenging you on your wild and irresponsible spending proposals.
You scare me because you will not openly listen to or even consider opposing points of view from intelligent people.
You scare me because you falsely believe that you are both omnipotent and omniscient.
You scare me because the media gives you a free pass on everything you do.
You scare me because you demonize and want to silence the Limbaughs, Hannitys, O’Relllys and Becks who offer opposing, conservative points of view.
You scare me because you prefer controlling over governing.
Finally, you scare me because if you serve a second term I will probably not feel safe in writing a similar letter in 8 years.

Lou Pritchett

Note: Lou Pritchett is a former vice president of Proctor & Gamble whose career at that company spanned 36 years before his retirement in 1989, and he is the author of the 1995 business book, Stop Paddling & Start Rocking the Boat. Mr. Pritchett confirmed that he was indeed the author of the much-circulated “open letter.” “I did write the ‘you scare me’ letter. I sent it to the NY Times but they never acknowledged or published it. However, it hit the Internet and according to the ‘experts’ has had over 500,000 hits.

He scars me too.

Man, I wish I had said that!

I try to read more than I have ever read before in this life but there are several reasons I don't. But maybe I do read more than I have in the past, I just might not realize it. I've always had a reading handicapp, my vision, but I think I have always had another handicap, that being my spiritual vision. It's "kinda" one of those things that is affected by your mental state. Of course I've mentioned that I do suffer from depression and continue to battle the emotional imbalance that plays a role that suffering. I found this message from my baby's blog that really tells of a feeling that I experience often. Who do you listen to? What do you believe of what you hear?

Read this and decide for yourself who, what, when...

Forgetting who we are.
My wife and I spent Thanksgiving in Pensacola, Florida a few years ago. Since our kids go to bed awesomely early, 6:30 eastern, we were stuck in the hotel by ourselves at 5:30 central time every night. There are few things as depressing as sitting on a bed for five straight hours in a Sleep Inn hotel room. In addition to suck your soul out fluorescent lights, the room had kind of this potpourri of bad smells. It was part smoke, part cat, part old Hardee’s hamburger and a smidge of feet.It was admittedly a good time to catch up on conversation with my wife, but after a few straight days of staring at each other, we were both a little stir crazy. One night I walked down to the BP gas station that was beside the hotel.Behind the counter at the gas station was a sad woman in her mid thirties. She looked tired, like maybe life was hard for her a decade too soon. Like maybe she didn’t get to be a kid long enough and all that adulthood was starting to catch up on her.On the outside of her hand was a small greenish gray tattoo of an X. I was curious about what it meant, so I asked her the significance. Here is her response:“Oh that? That doesn’t mean anything. My mom gave me that one night when she was drunk.”That was a kind of weird answer, so I asked her how old she was when it happened. She scrunched up her face for a second in concentration and then said, “I think I was 13.” When I was 13, I was really concerned about my clothes. I was worried that my mom would buy me a Knights of the Round Table shirt instead of Polo. Or that I would have Reeboks instead of Nikes. These were the kinds of things I focused on, because at that age, kids would tease you for the smallest thing.But what about showing up to school one Monday with a jagged, bloody green x tattooed on your hand? What was that experience like? How would kids react to that? Didn’t it hurt when her mom gave her that? She was drunk, writing on her daughter with a shaky hand and a hot needle.I thought about that the rest of the trip and was considering writing about the marks that our parents give us. They’re not all as obvious as that and many are actually positive, but I realized that was a narrow way to look at it, because it’s not just parents that give us marks. It’s coworkers and spouses and friends and strangers. And when we don’t know they’re there, sometimes they actually stick.Someone once asked me to review a memo at work that included some disparaging remarks about my writing ability. There on page 4 was a giant circle with a big red line through it that said "Fluff" and a sentence that promised a coworker was going to eliminate my fluff writing. The person that handed me the memo didn't realize it was about me. They wanted me to focus on a completely different section of the document but my eye caught some criticism about the company's writer, and since I was the only writer there, I couldn't help but read what was written.As I walked back to my desk, I was crushed. I felt like my complete lack of value had not only been noticed but captured in a memo. In the quietness of my head though, I felt like God popped in and said, "Hey, that memo doesn't get to define who you are. I do. And I say you are my son." I was blown away and instead of spiraling into despair and shame over that memo, I went back to my desk and wrote what was probably the best thing I've ever written for that company.I wish that single event was enough to forever shake off the bad marks I've got on me, but it isn't. I still doubt. I still believe the lies of the marks. I still, like lots of other Christians, forget who I am. I still give other people's words too much power. I don't have it all figured out. Instead, more than anything, life feels like it’s been a long series of believing that I am not who other people define me to be, I am a son of God. I am God’s work of art. And the more I have been open to believing that, the more He’s shown me it’s true.The thing I realized, is that an experience can't change that. My relation to God is not a mark. It is not a big tattoo or a little sticker, it is who I am. I can not completely cover that up or blot it out with failure. The prodigal son tries, he completely messes up his life. But more importantly, he shows how sometimes, the worst marks are the ones we give ourselves. “I’m a bad husband. I’m a terrible employee. I’m ugly.”These are the words we sometimes hear from ourselves and they are the kind of words the prodigal son tries to say to his father. (I have written about this story so many times it's getting a bit ridiculous but I love the lessons it has for us.) When the prodigal son rehearses his homecoming speech, he decides to conclude it with, “make me like one of your hired men.” That was the last thing he was going to say. But when he speaks to his father, that is the one thing he is not allowed to speak. The rest of his speech comes off without a hitch. “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.”These words are delivered without incident, but he doesn’t ever get to say “make me like one of your hired men.” Why is that?Why are those eight words left out? You can certainly read that as just accidental, that regardless of the words, the father was going to cut him off before he finished speaking. And maybe that’s right. But when I read that, I read a father stopping a son from saying something the father would never do. The father would never make him like one of his hired men. He would never give the son a new mark of slavery. He would never call him employee, instead of son. So he doesn’t even let those words out. He stops him because no new mark would be given that day. The old truth, the one at the core of the son, still holds true.Despite the pigpen and the prostitutes, the dirt and the deception, the father doesn't see a hired man.He sees a son.He sees his child.And that changes everything.

See what I mean.

TTFN

REMEMBER COLUMBINE?

I DO AND I NEVER WILL FORGET IT AND THE AFFECT IT HAD ON ME. I was the assistant principal at a high school when the event occurred. I had made a habit of going to a local YMCA for a long swim. AS i entered the dressing area I noticed that EVERY ONE was starring at the big screen TV at what had happened. I was not aware of all the details but I noticed that it had drawn everybody to the set. I listened to their comments. Not many knew me and what I was about so they were pretty free about what they said.

My experiences to that point in my career had included several events that included weapons. Mostly knives and stuff like that. One had to do with a 8th grade student from another school who came on my campus to find another girl but she found me. She raise the loaded 38 and pointed at me. In a calm voice she stated she would shoot me. After which seemed to be several minutes she continued the her search with me and a counselor on her tail.

I can close my eyes and see the tips of the bullets in the pistol. That vision created a sensitive attitude when it comes to school violence. It took me several months to get some what over Columbine. I do guess I will never get over that kind of event.

I wanted you all to get this message. So take it in.

Darrell Scott, the father of Rachel Scott, a victim of the Columbine High School shootings in Littleton , Colorado,was invited to address the House Judiciary Committee's subcommittee. What he said to our national leaders during this special session of Congress was painfully truthful. They were not prepared for what he was to say, nor was it received well. It needs to be heard by every parent, every teacher, every politician, every sociologist, every psychologist, and every so-called expert! These courageous words spoken by Darrell Scott are powerful, penetrating, and deeply personal. There is no doubt that God sent this man as a voice crying in the wilderness.

The following is a portion of the transcript: "Since the dawn of creation there has been both good & evil in the hearts of men and women. We all contain the seeds of kindness or the seeds of violence. The death of my wonderful daughter, Rachel Joy Scott, and the deaths of that heroic teacher, and the other eleven children who died must not be in vain. Their blood cries out for answers.

"The first recorded act of violence was when Cain slew his brother Abel out in the field. The villain was not the club he used... Neither was it the NCA, the National Club Association. The true killer was Cain, and the reason for the murder could only be found in Cain's heart. "In the days that followed the Columbine tragedy, I was amazed at how quickly fingers began to be pointed at groups such as the NRA. I am not a member of the NRA. I am not a hunter. I do not even own a gun. I am not here to represent or defend the NRA - because I don't believe that they are responsible for my daughter's death. Therefore I do not believe that they need to be defended.. If I believed they had anything to do with Rachel's murder I would be their strongest opponent.

I am here today to declare that Columbine was not just a tragedy -- it was a spiritual event that should be forcing us to look at where the real blame lies! Much of the blame lies here in this room. Much of the blame lies behind the pointing fingers of the accusers themselves.. I wrote a poem just four nights ago that expresses my feelings best. ·
Your laws ignore our deepest needs,
Your words are empty air.
You've stripped away our heritage,
You've outlawed simple prayer.
Now gunshots fill our classrooms,
And precious children die.
You seek for answers everywhere,
And ask the question "Why?"
You regulate restrictive laws,
Through legislative creed.
And yet you fail to understand,
That God is what we need! "

Men and women are three-part beings. We all consist of body, mind, and spirit.. When we refuse to acknowledge a third part of our make-up, we create a void that allows evil, prejudice, and hatred to rush in and wreak havoc. Spiritual presences were present within our educational systems for most of our nation's history. Many of our major colleges began as theological seminaries. This is a historical fact. What has happened to us as a nation? We have refused to honor God, and in so doing, we open the doors to hatred and violence. And when something as terrible as Columbine's tragedy occurs -- politicians immediately look for a scapegoat such as the NRA. They immediately seek to pass more restrictive laws that contribute to erode away our personal and private liberties. We do not need more restrictive laws. Eric and Dylan would not have been stopped by metal detectors. No amount of gun laws can stop someone who spends months planning this type of massacre. The real villain lies within our own hearts. "As my son Craig lay under that table in the school library and saw his two friends murdered before his very eyes, he did not hesitate to pray in school. I defy any law or politician to deny him that right! I challenge every young person in America , and around the world, to realize that on April 20, 1999, at Columbine High School prayer was brought back to our schools.

Do not let the many prayers offered by those students be in vain. Dare to move into the new millennium with a sacred disregard for legislation that violates your God-given right to communicate with Him. To those of you who would point your finger at the NRA -- I give to you a sincere challenge. Dare to examine your own heart before casting the first stone! My daughter's death will not be in vain! The young people of this country will not allow that to happen!"

Well, there you have it. Now I AM NOT A PROPONENT OF SCHOOL PRAYER. but I am a proponent of Christ being in every school.

By the way, the way I got over the event with the 8th grader and the Columbine thing and so many things is because I take Christ with me to school and every place else.

"A COUNTRY CALLED NEW YORK"

DAY TWO

Well, you might not think New York is a country to itself but it is far a different from the country I'm used to. That culture shock thing, it was sneaking up on me.

Day two, I would be able to experience something very special, "The Brooklyn Tabernacle." Wow! This is the place you hear about but just don't believe in till you really experienced it. The church is an old theater and there is no mistaking it because of the beautiful architecture. Now I don't use the "beautiful" word much without just cause and this was much just cause. Just being in the room was worshipful enough, but when the choir started to sing... WOW!!! You could fill the presence of the LORD God almighty. I've heard that choir on CD before but in person, WOW! For me that was the warm up because I'm into the preaching of God's Word.

Jim Cymbala steps to the "holy desk," and although he didn't stay at the desk long, he began to share a strong message. Now just a side note. I had been selected to preach, that's right preach, and although I had made efforts to prepare my heart and mind, I was having some confident issues of my skill of presenting the true Gospel to grown men and women who had such great needs in their lives. This was just what I needed. To hear a guy like this guy put it out there with confidence and fullness of the Spirit really helped me with my focus. Well, at least for a little while.

After Brook Tab we headed to the USS Intrepid. Concerts were placed and New Testaments were to be handed out.

Wow! I've never seen a real air craft carrier before and from what I was told this was one of the small ones. It was decorated with planes from front to back. Their was even a "Black Bird" spy plane there. After lunch and just prior to set up I noticed parade of motor cycles traveling on the adjacent street. It didn't strike me as anything but a parade until I started seeing some of the bikers colors walking around on the flight deck. With a little snooping I found out that this was the anniversary of this club and people were there from all over the USA. The significance was the club was made up of Viet Nam Vets and/or their families. The entire club assembled on the fan tail end of the flight deck. The charter members all held the edges of a giant US Flag while an NYPD chopper took pictures and an NYFD fire boat sprayed red, white and blue water. VERY COOL!

As this ceremony concluded the vets began to leave and the concert began. Now you have to understand that there was no coordination of these events but as these vets walked by and the choirs sang patriotic song the crowd grew in numbers. As the songs of the different branches was sung the vets began to hug each other and cry. I could only sympathize with their feeling but since I had lost some of my friend went but didn't return from Viet Nam I shed tears myself. Don't tell me that God is not sovereign and that He had the right people and the right songs and the right locations together for the blessings of these vets. Maybe a little pay back for their sacrifice.

I will never forget that moment in time.

As we left the "flat top" I met a few of NYPD's finest. Could help but say hey. I told them that I was from those "parts" and one said "no kidding."

Morning would come early when I was to take position at the Holy Desk at our first homeless shelter for the day to present the gospel.

YOU SPEAK WITH FORKED TONGUE

SEEMS TO ME THAT THERE ARE SOME AROUND US THAT TALK A GOOD GAME BUT SOME, SOME, KNOW THE TRUTH AND OF COURSE THE TRUTH SETS YOU FREE, RIGHT?

Not in this case. consider that you are the boss and you have several loyal employees. Now when I say loyal I mean some one who is and has been the person that covers your back and makes you look good. These people deserve the loyalty right back. They do not need to be put down or questions as to their wisdom or knowledge. Maybe no verbally but body language speaks loudly and some times makes a bigger impact.

To those folk than are blind to your real employees who have been loyal and covered your back I give you a, that's right, a list.

1. Your day is coming! When you need us and we are not there!

2. Your day is coming! When you wonder who took care of this before!

3. Your day is coming! When you get caught doing what you have done in the past because you don't have that loyal person to fix it before you get caught.

4. Your day is coming! When you have to move on and wonder where the loyal folks have gone.

5. Your day is coming soon!

Give the man a break!

Give the man a break after all he is the first black president!

You can't go anywhere without hearing someone talk about Obama this or that. OK, I think we need health care reform and the economy is in the pit and needs a big boost, but I'm not sure about some of the things I hear. I mean the man can't do all this stuff on his own, right? Yes right.

In my recent travels of the world, New York, I discovered that the USA has no shame when it comes to profiting for others success. Turned on the TV and what do I see, an advertisement for a Obama-chia! That's right folks the same folk that brought you the "chia Homer Simpson" now brings you the "Obama-chia." the grass grow right out of his head! Good grief! Can you imagine what the poor man's children do when some kid at school says they have an "Obama-chia" at home? I don't know maybe the Obamas will give the teachers an "Obama-chia" for "winter holiday" gifts.

If that wasn't enough at Time Square there were people selling "Obama condoms"! NO LIE! i BETTER NOT COMMENT ON THAT ONE!

Anyway, I got this today and thought since we're talking about how someone takes advantage of another person, this might be interesting to see and read. I won't take credit for this.

I am stunned that the official White House Blog publishing this picture that it is in the public domain.

The body language is most revealing.

Sergeant Crowley, the sole class act in this trio, helps the handicapped Professor Gates, who was arrested by Crowley, down the stairs, while, heedless of the infirmities of his friend and fellow victim of self-defined racial profiling, strides ahead on his own. So who is compassionate? And who is so self-involved and arrogant that he is oblivious?

In my own dealings with the wealthy and powerful, I have always found that the way to quickly capture the moral essence of a person is to watch how they treat those who are less powerful. Do they understand that the others are also human beings with feelings? Especially when they think nobody is looking.

As some AT commentators point out, this picture becomes a metaphor for ObamaCare. The elderly are left in the back, with only the kindness of the Crowleys of the world, the stand up guys, to depend on. The government has other priorities while the public fears the indifference of powerful bureaucrats ruling their lives.

This image captures something that older Americans in particular can relate to: the President presses ahead with a program that will tell them to take painkillers instead of getting that artificial hip they so badly need.

WELL, I GUESS IT IS TRUE, YOU CAN PRETTY MUCH SPEAK FREELY CAUSE OF THAT CONSTITUTION THING.