College CRAZiEs - Daily Food For Thought

DAILY FOOD FOR THOUGHT

Need an inspirational thought...a chuckle or two... something to inspire you and get you through the day? Well, you've come to the right place. Check here REGULARLY for new bits of inspiration.
(POSTED DAILY...WELL...ALMOST)

What happened to September?????

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(Friday, October 31)

THE SHIELD OF LOVE

When I felt
That touch of spring
Yesterday
I washed my car
And waxed it.
When it rained
This morning
The droplets
On the hood
Stood upright
In tiny bubbles
Unable to penetrate
That coat of wax.

When I prayed to God
Last night
He must have washed my soul,
Bathed it in His love
Because
Today
When troubles came
They only
Stood outside
Unable to penetrate
That shield of love.

from Fresh Elastic for Stretched Out Moms by Barbara Johnson

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(Wednesday, October 29)

A woman had recently been baptized. One of her co-workers asked her what it was like to be a Christian. She was caught off guard and didn't know how to respond, but when she looked up she saw a jack-o'-lantern on the desk and answered: "It's like being a pumpkin." The worker asked her to explain what she meant.

"Well, God picks you from the patch and brings you in and washes off all the dirt on the outside that you got from being around all the other pumpkins. Then he cuts off the top and takes out all the yucky stuff from the inside. He removes the sins of doubt, hate and greed. Then he carves you a new smiling face and puts his light inside of you to shine for all to see."

from the Sierra Vista Pumpkin Patch

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(Sunday, October 26)

As long as Jesus is one of many options, he is no option.

As long as you can carry your burdens alone, you don't need a burden bearer. As long as your situation brings you no grief, you will receive no comfort. And as long as you can take him or leave him, you might as well leave him, because he won't be taken half-heartedly.

But when you mourn, when you get to the point of sorrow for your sins, when you admit that you have no other option but to cast all your cares on him, and when there is truly no other name that you can call, then cast all your cares on him, for he is waiting in the midst of the storm.

Come to me, all of you who are tired and have heavy loads, and I will give you rest. --Matthew 11:28

from The Applause of Heaven by Max Lucado

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(Saturday, October 25)

TENNIS LESSONS FOR MY SON

www.wbrucecameron.com

I am something of a natural-born tennis player--meaning, I play like someone who has never had lessons. I'm also blessed with a superb athletic ability, so that even though I go a decade without setting foot on a tennis court, when I pick up a racket I'm instantly as good as when I played for the very first time.

My 15-year-old son decided this summer that he wanted to take up the sport, and asked me if I would give him some lessons. "Sure," I responded with enthusiasm, "how about next month sometime?"

Kids nowadays are into "instant gratification," so he seemed to feel waiting an entire month was too much to ask. He even accused me of "doing nothing" at that moment, even though he could clearly see I was involved in getting comfortable on the hammock.

A nurturing and involved parent, I decided to forego my nap and drive my son down to the neighborhood courts for a lesson or two, because that's just the kind of dad I am and also because my daughter baked some cookies for us to take along.

Once we had stationed ourselves on either side of the net and began tapping the ball back and forth, it was immediately clear that my son had been practicing. In fact, one of his shots came directly at me with such speed it was all I could do to dodge out of the way. "Hey," I shouted, "you made me drop my cookie!"

"Why didn't you hit it back instead of ducking?" he taunted. (Remember, he doesn't understand how to play the game.)

"Let's just do a set," I suggested. Sometimes, the big dog has to remind the little dog who runs the herd. I cranked up and fired a bullet, my serve sizzling through the air so fast it fried the fuzz right off the ball.

"Net," he called for some reason.

I took pity on him and tapped the next one more softly.

"Out," he shouted.

"Look, do you want to play or not?" I demanded.

Apparently my next serve was to his liking, as he returned it to my forehand--initiating the following exchange between my brain and my body.

Memo

To: Feet

From: Brain

Subject: Get Moving!

Dear Feet, we are here and the ball is over there. Move!

Reply Memo

To: Brain

From: Feet

Dear Brain, in receipt of your memo, referenced above. Please explain "ball" and why we should care about same.

Reply Reply Memo

To: Feet

From: Brain

Would you please just get going? We can debate this later!

I put everything I had into my lunge, moving faster than Tiger Woods at NASCAR. Unfortunately the tennis ball was in some way flawed, bouncing out of my reach in a most defective fashion.

"My point!" my son called gaily.

I accepted this gratuitous comment with typical good sportsmanship.

"You're not supposed to swear," he advised me.

My son is at the age where he improves 80% with every stroke, whereas I am at the age where there was an 80% chance I would HAVE a stroke. After ten minutes of chasing back and forth trying to return his woefully misdirected shots, I tossed the ball up and walloped it, sending it soaring over the fence and into the weeds.

"Go get it," I wheezed.

"Why?"

"Those are the rules," I told him.

"But you did that on purpose!"

"Hey, have you read the rule book? No. Have I? Yes. Now go get the ball."

"Aren't you going to play any more?"

"No, I'm going to lie down. I'm having internal bleeding. Are there any more cookies?"

Grumbling, he went off to search for the ball. I gazed up at the sky and made a mental note to complain to the homeowner's association about the presence of a tennis court in our neighborhood. I mean, what kind of thing is that to have in a place where there are children around?

The Cameron Column, A Free Internet Newsletter Copyright W. Bruce Cameron 2003 http://www.wbrucecameron.com/

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(Friday, October 24)

Dear Christ,

I would give
You every key of the little house that
You know as me.
The porch has been Yours,
And You've walked all through
The open rooms that the world can view.
But today, O Christ, I would have You go
To the secret rooms that I've treasured so.
They are hidden and small and set apart;
But I want you to own this house--my heart.

--source unknown
printed in Splashes of Joy in the Cesspools of Life by Barbara Johnson

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(Thursday, October 23)

I was hungry and you formed a humanities club
And discussed my hunger. . . . Thank you.
I was imprisoned and you crept off
Quietly to your chapel and prayed for my release.
I was naked and in your mind you debated
The morality of my appearance.
I was sick and you knelt
And thanked God for your health.
I was homeless and you preached to me
Of the shelter of the love of God.
I was lonely and you left me alone
To pray for me.

You seem so holy; so close to God;
But I'm still very hungry, and lonely, and cold. . .

--author unknown

from Fresh Elastic for Stretched Out Moms by Barbara Johnson.

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(Wednesday, October 22)
So much has been given to me, I have no time to ponder that which has been denied.

--Helen Keller

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(Monday, October 20)
(egads...last week slipped by while I wasn't looking! sorry about that.
hugzzz,
MizC)

YOUR LIFE WILL BE RICHER -- IF

Your life will be richer if on this day
You will make an effort to:
Mend a quarrel.
Search for a forgotten friend.
Dismiss a suspicion and replace it with trust.
Write a letter to someone who misses you.
Encourage someone who has lost faith.
Keep a promise.
Forget an old grudge.
Examine your demands on others, and vow to reduce them.
Fight for a principle.
Express your gratitude.
Overcome an old fear.
Take two minutes to appreciate the beauty of nature.
Tell someone you love them.
Tell them again.
And again.
And again.

-author unknown

from Love Adds A Little Chocolate by Medard Laz

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(Sunday, October 12)

When I was seven years old, I ran away from home. I'd had enough of my father's rules and decided I could make it on my own, thank you very much. With my clothes in a paper bag, I stormed out the back gate and marched down the alley. [But] I didn't go far. I got to the end of the alley and remembered I was hungry, so I went back home.

Though the rebellion was brief, it was rebellion nonetheless. And had you stopped me on that prodigal path . . . I just might have told you how I felt. I just might have said, "I don't need a father. I'm too big for the rules of my family."

I didn't hear the rooster crow like Peter did. I didn't feel the fish belch like Jonah did. I didn't get a robe and a ring and sandals like the prodigal did. But I learned from my father on earth what those three learned from their Father in heaven. Our God is no fair-weather Father. He's not into this love-'em-and-leave-'em stuff. I can count on Him to be in my corner no matter how I perform. You can, too.

from The Great House of God by Max Lucado

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(Wednesday, October 8)
Many people seem to believe God has called them to live successful lives. In reality, He calls each one of us to live faithful lives--lives of obedience, devotion, worship, and service.

With each day there often remains a residue of things left undone, unsaid, unachieved, or unconquered. Each day has its own measure of failure, its own degree of trouble, and its own lingering doubts.

As you conduct a full review of your day--the bad as well as the good--it may be helpful to recall these words by John Oxendale:

"Who Set You There?"

Is your place a small place?
Tend it with care--He set you there.
Is your place a large place?
Guard it with care!--He set you there
Whate'er your place, it is
Not yours alone, but His
Who set you there.

You may not have been as successful today as you would have liked, but every day you are faithful to the Lord is a success for Him. Remember the things He has promised and that regardless of your performance today, as you give your whole heart to Him, He makes up the difference.

from Quiet Moments with God

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(Sunday, October 5)
"We are God's workers, working together"--1 Corinthians 3:9

It's a wonderful day indeed when we stop working for God and begin working with God. . . .

For years I viewed God as a compassionate CEO and my role as a loyal sales representative. He had his office, and I had my territory. I could contact him as much as I wanted. He was always a phone or fax away. He encouraged me, rallied behind me, and supported me, but he didn't go with me. At least I didn't think he did. Then I read 2 Corinthians 6:1 -- "We are 'God's fellow workers' "

Fellow workers? Co-laborers? God and I work together? Imagine the paradigm shift this truth creates. Rather than report to God, we work with God. Rather than check in with him and then leave, we check in with him and then follow. We are always in the presence of God. . . . There is never a nonsacred moment!

from Just Like Jesus by Max Lucado

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(Friday, October 3)
Your conscience is a little triangle in your heart. It acts like a pinwheel. When you're good it does not rotate. When you're bad, it turns around and the corners hurt a lot. If you keep on being bad, the corners eventually wear off, and when the little triangle spins around it doesn't hurt anymore.

from The Best of Bits & Pieces ...published by The Economics Press, Inc.

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(Wednesday, October 1)
You and I live in a loud world. To get someone's attention is no easy task. He must be willing to set everything aside to listen: turn down the radio, turn away from the monitor, turn the corner of the page and set down the book. When someone is willing to silence everything else so he can hear us clearly, it is a privilege. A rare privilege, indeed.

[Your] prayers are honored [in heaven] as precious jewels. Purified and empowered, the words rise in a delightful fragrance to our Lord. . . . Your words do not stop until they reach the very throne of God. . . .

Your prayer on earth activates God's power in heaven, and "God's will is done on earth as it is in heaven.". . .

Your prayers move God to change the world. You may not understand the mystery of prayer. You don't need to. But this much is clear: Actions in heaven begin when someone prays on earth.

from The Great House of God by Max Lucado

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**back to ARCHIVES

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