Story Time! ... :) Shangy! >Here are the details on our Yahoo ShangyFunList: To Subscribe send a blank email to ShangyFunList-subscribe@yahoogroups.com Group home page: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ShangyFunList or Web Site: http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/ShangyFunList.html Group email address: ShangyFunList@yahoogroups.com or email me here: bcrsystems@earthlink.net ================== >-->Hot Off The 'Shangy' Press :) This sweet fun one comes from a forward from our friend Viv. Some of these you may have a hard time believing your eyes! Check it out here... /\ __ _ __ / / || _ \\ || __ / / || / | >>|| / / \ \/\ || //|| // ||____/ / \ / || //_||<< | ___ / \ \ ||/ __ | \\ || / / \_\||_/__||__>>||_/_/ \_________________/ _| 0_] /\ Picture This http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/picturethis.html --- ...Very Nice! Thank You Viv!!!! -<>- This one next one comes from our friend and my brother Del. He sent us a forward I couldn't resist having fun with and turning into a page right away. One of the the things I especially like and hopefully you will too... _.___._ _| 0_] /\ High Tech Toys http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/techtoys.html --- ...Thanks Del for this cool one! ================================================================== o o_ >=O o -->From TruthOrTradition: /,-. _________ // /| / / // / | / / (O <__|__ /________/_____ |\\ \ | (________((_____(_ | \\ \ | | \`-` | \ | / | | | | \ | / | | |__| ______\|/______ \ | | /_______n_______\ \ | | ~~~~~~~~~^~~~~~~~~~ \|-' Mary Grace Lindsey Sower (Christian Magazine) is now available on-line: http://www.stfonline.org/emails/jan_feb_2009_sower.html ======================================================== >-->From InspiredBuffalo: _------Q--\ /~ ) <_____________/ / _ ))))))))) [] / ((((((((( |~~~| (____/' )))))))))) | | ))))))))))))))))) |\ | | (((((((((((((((((( / | | | /~~\----------/| // \ | _/ | |<===| ===] ||// \ \____ //' //| | \__/~~~~~~~~~~|^ _--~~~ ~~~-// // | | | / () () // ) // | | | | () _-//-~ // | | ((((((((| () (_// // | | | : | ~~---_ // | | | | \ () () ) // | | | | ~--__ __-~ // |___| | | |~//~~~~~ // // \\ / / |// // // \\ (___(___________|- // [==] [==] unknown Before U were thought of or time had begun, God stuck U in the name of His Son. And each time U pray, you'll see it's true, You can't spell out JesUs and not include U. You're a pretty big part of His wonderful name, For U, He was born; that's why He came. And His great love for U is the reason He died. It even takes U t o spell crUcified. Isn't it thrilling and splendidly grand He rose from the dead, with U in His plan? The stones split away, the gold trUmpet blew, and this word resUrrection is spelled with a U. When JesUs left earth at His upward ascension, He felt there was one thing He just had to mention. "Go into the world and tell them it's true That I love them all - Just like I love U." So many great people are spelled with a U, Don't they have a right to know JesUs too? It all depends now on what U will do, He'd like them to know, But it all starts with U. -<>- >George Mueller's Prayer Have you ever heard of George Mueller? .---. /_____\__ .===. _ _ `\/6.6\/--` / _/\ \ / )%.===.%( \ ( _ ) \/6.6\/ | // ,,, \\ | ,'---', ( _ ) \/ \/6.6\/ \/ .===. / _ \ _)---(_ /\ ( _ ) /\ / ,,, \ /\/ (_) \/\ / `~` \ ^^ /()-()\ ^^ ( /6.6\ ) \ | (_) | / /\/ \/\ / /o o\ \ )( _ )( \| |/ \ | | / (._\ Y /_.) (_/;---;\_) |_____| \|_____|/ (O_`&`_O) / `"*"` \ | | | | L | / / \ \ ( (_.@._) ) | | | |__|__| / ()/^\() \ /'._\|/_.'\ \__|__/ | | | /. . . . . . .\ /. . . . . .\ |_|_| |_|_| `"`"`|`|`|`"`"` `"`"|"|"|"`"` jgs _|_|_|_ _|_|_|_ _|_|_|_ _|_|_|_ (___|___) (___|___) (___|___) (___|___) One day he looked down the streets of Bristol, England, & saw 100's of homeless children. He was so moved with concern for them that he decided that something had to be done. He had only two pence in his pocket. That's two cents. But he decided to start an orphanage. In 60 years, beginning with two pence, George Mueller took care of 10,000 orphans. He looked out and saw homeless kids. He could have said, "But, I don't have any money. But, there is no way to care for them, to meet their needs, to buy the food." Instead, he looked at them and said, "Therefore, I will reach out and help them." And God blessed his efforts in a mighty way. He told amazing stories of answered prayers. He kept a record of his prayers, and his prayer records filled more than 3,000 pages. His notes show that more than 30,000 prayers were answered. One night there was no food in the orphanage to give to the children for breakfast. But at 3:00 in the morning a baker called him up and said, "I just can't sleep. I'm going down to the bakery to bake some bread. Would it be all right for me to bring some over to you this morning?" One time a milk truck just happened to break down in front of the orphanage on a day when they had no milk. The truck driver came in and said, "This milk is all going to spoil. Would you like some of it?" And their need was met. Time & time again, 30,000 times in 60 years, God answered George Mueller's prayers. -<>- ___ T T === |.| .'.`. .'.' `.`. %% .'.' ___ `.`. %%%% .'.' |_|_| `.`. %%%%%% .'.' |_|_| `.`. %%%%%__.--`'| [] |_|_| [] |`'---. __ %%%%|------|| ||||||| /\ =========%%%| _&|| ___ ||====' / \ ///////////H/| j | || |_|_| || | |||| ////////////H%| |- || |_|_| ||____| |||| /////////////H/| | || |_|_| || TT| . & |||| @@@@@@@@@@@@@H@|======|| ||====| "===' (f |\//|\/|/\//\||//|\|||/\//|//\||\//||//|\||\||\/|/\//\||////|//\/|| >BONDS OF LOVE By: Joseph J. Mazzella My neighbor that lives just down the hill from me has "adopted" the family that lives across the road from her. She joyously calls their children her grandchildren and the mother and father her son and daughter. Watching them together touches my heart and lights up my soul. They share more than just cookies and chores together too. They share closeness, caring, laughter, tears, goodness, and love. They are a true family through both tough times and tender moments. They show me daily that the bonds of love are greater even than the bonds of blood and that we truly are one family in this world. How glorious this Earth would be if only everyone followed their example. Wars would disappear overnight. Not a single child would go unfed. Joyous laughter would replace angry shouts. Hitting would turn into hugging. Smiles would sail from face to face, heart to heart, and soul to soul. Everyone would feel the love of God flowing through their hearts and through the hearts of their neighbors. And everywhere you would look you would see the shining eyes of another Child of God and member of your family. Don’t be afraid then to build the bonds of love. Don’t be afraid to share yourself with others. You may even find yourself "enlarging your family" as you invite your fellow Children of God into your heart, soul, and life. After all, we were meant to love. We were meant to share joy. We were meant to give kindness to everyone we meet. Mother Teresa of Calcutta said: "Let noone ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God’s kindness: kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile." That is how my wonderful neighbor and her "adopted" family live and that is how I hope to live as well. May the same be true for you. -<>- | ' | SummerRain I / ' \ 8 ' \ / .' , .---. .' , / '.. ` , -- , --== : < : ====----- . . -' .' .' `---' , , ' \ / . / / I ,' \ / .' , ' I / ' .' | ' .' , / / / .' .' .' . , .' / _ . / . (") _ .' '' a___.' \ $"$ ,k , , `---' || ,$..\// / / _ ||//`. (' .' .' , __________ ____ ( '^.`%/ ( x \_ ________________________a:f__ / \\ | " |/ `.) ' /J || // (/ .' ' , .a `' `' ' . , / 88 a8 8a 8. ' `8a.8P `88a.88 ,' .' .a8888:a888a `8888' a888888b88P `Y88d88P888a a88b 888 " `"' This is an account of a most wondrously blessed day in my life. Hello, my name is Patty Fletcher. I am a single mother of one daughter the proud grand mother of two grand daughter's and I've a twelve and a half year old Beagle mix named Rowdy and a nine and a half year old kitty named Celine. My Boyfriend and I shared a particularly wonderful day and I want to share it with you. Also if you'd like to learn of the organization written of in here you may visit 2-1-1/Contact Concern.org for more information. Something else you might wish to know about me, I am blind and walk with a caine. Well yesterday was a fun but wet day. Donnie and I started out about nine in the morning and it was hardly raining at all. I figured it would just pass and so I did not give it much thought. Once to the office the bad weather was forgotten and while we were there we dried out and did not give it another thought until it was time to go. Then we began to realize that the weather hadn't cleared but rather was getting worse. So we packed up my Laptop case and started on our way. We had about forty-five minutes to kill and so we decided we were hungry and that we were gonna go and get a burger. So off we started in the rain. Now one of the fun things about walking in the rain with some one you really really like is of course sharing the umbrella. We snugged up underneath and continued in the poring rain. Once at the burger joint we found a place out of the rain under their covered eating area and I sat down to rest and have a smoke while Donnie went in to get our food. We ate and while we did the rain began to get even heavier. Once we were through eating we once again snugged up under the umbrella and made our way to the bus stop. We sloshed through puddles and sang funny songs. We held hands like a couple of high-school kids and even stole a kiss in the rain. It was lots of fun! Well, once I got home later that evening I found that my side walks and yard had been transformed in to lakes and rivers and Rowdy needed to get out and potty. Well, as I got him leashed up he was jumping and snorting and although I tried to prepare him for what waited outside the door for him I do not think he was at all ready for what he saw when we started outside. In the first place it was raining Dog Catchers and he was not going! Then I finally drug him out and he stayed rite up against the building and only would pee. I brought him in and Donnie was not satisfied he had finished and so after letting him eat a bit Donnie decided to brave the rain and take him back out. Well, they were gone and gone and I was just about to think they'd gotten stuck in one of the various mud puddles along the way and was just about to come and look when they came dripping through the door. Donnie said this when they came in, "Neither rain nor rain nor rain of night will keep the Rowdy's nose from taking on a life". I laughed and laughed. "What did he do"? I asked and Donnie related that even in the poring rain Rowdy's nose picked up the scent of some poor animal and was going to track it rain or not. Well that is my Rowdy! I thought, and thus we have survived a Swim Fest rather than a sniff fest and the best is yet to come. I'm having my morning coffee and it is saying on TV that the rain is going to turn to ice and then snow. Yippee! | ' | I / ' \ 8 ' \ / .' , .---. .' , / '.. ` , -- , --== : < : ====----- . . -' .' .' `---' , , ' \ / . / / I ,' \ / .' , ' I / ' .' | REMEMBER IT'S NOT WHAT YOU HAVE, BUT WHO YOU SHARE IT WITH! TO WALK IN LIGHT IS TO WALK IN LOVE! FROM, CELINE KITTY, THE ROWDY DOG, AND THE, TAZZ! GIVE LOVE, GIVE LIFE! -<>- >Links for Your Enjoyment Copperfield Hans Betsy http://www.buffaloschips.com/12w3.htm Costa Rica Vacation http://www.buffaloschips.com/12qa.htm Cowboy http://www.buffaloschips.com/12we.htm Crabz http://www.buffaloschips.com/12ere.htm Cyril takaya Matrix http://www.buffaloschips.com/12sd.htm Interessant Eierschlange http://www.buffaloschips.com/awereew.htm You Know That Has To Hurt http://www.buffaloschips.com/aswsw.htm Javelin Live Fire VS T72 http://www.buffaloschips.com/axdxs.htm Lays Potato Chips http://www.buffaloschips.com/awewqw.htm From Shangy Buy A Dog http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/buyadog.html Veggie Art http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/veggie.html Chinese Olympic Cuisine http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/olympic.html Fishing In Florida http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/fishing.html Humor In Religion 2 http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/hreligion2.html (MLK) A Class Divided http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/divided/etc/view.html Crafts: Serving Tray http://www.craftynest.com/2008/12/salvaged-cupboard-door-serving-tray/ House For Cats http://www.treehugger.com/files/2009/01/house-for-cats.php Astronomy Picture of The Day http://antwrp.gsfc.nasa.gov/apod/ Subscribe send a blank email to: the-inspired-buffalo-subscribe@yahoogroups.com ================================================================ >-->From Heartwarmers: , , /////| ///// | ///// | |~~~| | | |===| |/| | B |/| | | I | | | | B | | | | L | / | E | / |===|/ jgs '---' >MOM'S OLD, USELESS BIBLE by Joseph Walker To tell the truth, I don't remember seeing Mom actually read her old Bible. As far as I could tell, it just sat on the night stand next to her bed. And that was the best place for it, since it probably wouldn't have survived any meaningful usage anywhere else. The black cloth cover was ragged and time-worn, its dog-eared pages yellowed with time. Once I accidentally knocked it off the night stand, launching loose pages all over Mom and Dad's bedroom. I expected a tongue-lashing for my carelessness (and believe me, this was no small expectation, since Mom delivered a tongue-lashing like Pavarotti delivered an aria -- with the practiced precision and stunning power of an artist). But Mom was so busy gathering the pages, gently smoothing them and returning them to their place in the book that she paid no attention to me. Soon after I moved away from home, my sister Kathy and I combined our funds to buy a new Bible for Mom for her birthday. It was a black leather volume, twice as big as her old Bible. The pages were trimmed in gold, and there were maps, references and a complete Bible dictionary included within its pages. We even had her name engraved on the front with gold-leaf lettering. It was a beautiful book, and Mom was touched and pleased with it. I remember watching her thumb carefully through the pages, admiring the quality of the paper and the clarity of the printing. From that day on, it was the Bible she took with her to church, and the one from which she read during the family Nativity pageant. But for some reason, it never displaced the old Bible from its position of honor on her night stand. And that kind of bothered me. "I don't know why you keep that ratty old thing," I told her as we prepared to pack it among her most precious belongings for what would turn out to be the last of many relocations in her life -- this time to the warm, heavy air of Southern California. "That new Bible we got for you is the best that money can buy. You can't even use this old one anymore." Mom smiled at me weakly and sat on the edge of her bed, carefully wrapping the old Bible in an equally old, equally shabby white shawl. "Just because a thing isn't useful anymore doesn't mean it isn't valuable," she said softly, deliberately. "You look at this and see an old, worn-out book. But I see the gift your father gave me on our wedding day. I see the friend that was always there to provide strength and comfort when your father was sent to Pearl Harbor during the war. I see the storybook from which I read to all of my children, and the primer from which you all read your first Bible verses. "This Bible has been in the family as long as we've been a family," she continued, caressing it through the tattered shawl. "It's part of us, part of our history, part of who we are. So even though it isn't especially useful anymore, there is still value in what it represents. At least, there is to me." Suddenly it occurred to me that she wasn't just talking about her old Bible. We live in an age of fanatically obsessive utilitarianism. Everything is disposable -- even people. If it's old or odd-looking or not particularly useful, toss it -- or him, or her -- out. We forget that there is value beyond utility, and worth beyond "what's in it for me now." When Mom died, Dad gave me her "new" Bible. It's among my most cherished possessions. It means a lot to me, and it really is beautiful and incredibly useful. But I'd trade it in a minute for Mom's old, useless Bible. I even have the perfect place for it -- on the night stand next to my bed. -- Joseph Walker ______________________________________________ Joe is a Heartwarmer Gem and a columnist from Utah. =================================================================== , {\\ * { \\(} / {_` ;--' / \ /__/ jgs // `` >I Wish For You We tried so hard to make things better for our kids that we made them worse. For my grandchildren, I'd like better. I'd really like for them to know about hand me down clothes and homemade ice cream and leftover meat loaf sandwiches. I really would. I hope you learn humility by being humiliated, and that you learn honesty by being cheated. I hope you learn to make your own bed and mow the lawn and wash the car. And I really hope nobody gives you a brand new car when you are sixteen. It will be good if at least one time you can see puppies born and your old dog put to sleep. I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in, I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brother. And it's all right if you have to draw a line down the middle of the room, but when he wants to crawl under the covers with you because he's scared, I hope you let him. When you want to see a movie and your little brother wants to tag along, I hope you'll let him. I hope you have to walk uphill to school with your friends and that you live in a town where you can do it safely. On rainy days when you have to catch a ride, I hope you don't ask your driver to drop you two blocks from school so you won't be seen with someone as uncool as your Mom. If you want a slingshot, I hope your Dad teaches you how to make one instead of buying one. I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books. When you learn to use computers, I hope you also learn to add and subtract in your head. I hope you get teased by your friends when you have your first crush on a girl, and when you talk back to your mother that you learn what ivory soap tastes like. May you skin your knee climbing a mountain, burn your hand on a stove and stick your tongue on a frozen flagpole. I don't care if you try a beer once, but I hope you don't like it. And if a friend offers you dope or a joint, I hope you realize he is not your friend. I sure hope you make time to sit on a porch with your Grandpa and go fishing with your Uncle. May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during the holidays. I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a baseball through your neighbor's window and that she hugs you and kisses you at Christmas time when you give her a plaster mold of your hand. These things I wish for you-tough times and disappointment, hard times and happiness. To me, its the only way to appreciate life. =======HeartWarming======= >-->If You Are Real By T. Suzanne Eller ,-`"-=') =/////// ,== _,_(((((-`6\ ==.| /,,...\\\C _| .--. ((((\\\\\` _, /;_| )9 )))))./ `. / } _\,_ ,-'))) \ / /=-. ,-./ \/ '))) . /\_/ / \ (,-.%\ / /-' ') \/\ / ( \ (/ \ ' /( ' `-/ \( \ ,- / ( `-' \ . / / \ \ &_) /\ \ | ( /--.- \ \----,------=;% | _/ _); `. ` `-. .`\ ) +++/ \ ,," %&-. ; \\| `-` `-=.;_,.__.__\_,/ )_/___+_/_________\,"(_//_(__)______:-._) gpyy (excerpted from Real Teens, Real Stories, Real Life ISBN 1589195000) copyright, 2002, T. Suzanne Eller The small church was crowded. All around me people worshiped a god that I didn't believe existed. Why was I there? My neighbor asked me to come. To be honest, I thought they would leave me alone if I did. I wasn't sure what to expect. I had attended services with my family a few times, but it was more of a ritual or a way to celebrate holidays. What I hadn't anticipated was the wetness pressed against my eyelids as I clenched them shut. My motto? Never let them see you cry. I wasn't about to break down in front of people I didn't know. I wasn't crying because I felt the presence of God or that I sensed his love for me. I fought tears because I was mad, so angry that I shook inside. How dare the preacher stand there and talk about the love of God. It was easy for him and people like him to spout off about a God who existed, who had a purpose for every person. Well, maybe their God had taken a personal interest in them but he didn't live at my house. The mother I am about to share with you is the not the mom I have now. You see, she had an encounter with God, and He brought her out of the darkness of emotional pain and healed her. In order to share my story, I have to share a little bit of hers as well. My mom left home at 16 years old, pregnant and newly married to a boy who thought he was a man. She lost her first baby to cystic fibrosis when the toddler was less than two years old. She had her second child at 18 and left her husband at the age of 21. He came to visit her one night and forced her to have sex. She discovered two weeks later she was pregnant. I was that baby. Mom married a good man who loved her and the two little kids that came as a package deal. But in spite of this turn of events, my mom was fragile. Like stained glass, she was pretty on the outside, but the broken pieces of her life created the portrait. Growing up, I never knew what to expect. Would it be the mom who brought home suckers to surprise us, or the woman who spouted horrific things as she ran out the door and threatened to kill herself? There was physical abuse and apologies. There were humiliating punishments, harsh words, and tearful requests for forgiveness. Please don't get me wrong. It wasn't always bad in my home, but when it was it was loud and chaotic and frightening. I feared one day that my mom would pull the trigger or hurt herself. I hated the words that came out of her mouth when she was angry. One day my mom chased me through the house, brandishing an umbrella as she screamed at me. I ran out the door and into the rain. I was wearing a T-shirt and jeans and no shoes. The cold rain pelted me as I ran down Latimer Street. I pushed through the wetness, pumping my arms as I ran as fast as I could. Finally I stopped, bending down to catch my breath as my tears meshed with the raindrops. I slowly turned around and walked home, sat on the curb, and wept until my throat closed. I was stuck. I couldn't run away. I had no money, no place to go. I was 13 years old. Where could I go? I started smoking at the bus stop, pushing boundaries with my teachers, and drinking with my best friend. My attempts to be tough must have appeared hilarious to others. I was skinny to a fault and looked younger than my age. Being tough didn't come natural. My heart was gentle and I hated conflict and fighting, yet every single time I let my guard down someone hurt me. Angry words all sharp and pointy, a knife in my soul. That's when the hardness crept in. Never let them see you cry. Never give them a chance to know you care. One day it all came to a head. My mom pulled us around her in her bedroom. She put a gun to her head and threatened to shoot herself. I was scared, but not because I thought she would die, but because under my breath I whispered, "just do it". Who was this person I was becoming? Two years later I stood in the little church. The pastor sang, strumming on the guitar as people knelt at the altar. "He loves you," he said. "He has a plan for your life." Yeah, right. I pointed my chin at the sky, my eyes closed, and I challenged this God of which he spoke. "If you are real," I whispered, "and I don't believe you are, but if you exist and you know me and you love me like he says, I need to know." I expected nothing, yet I received everything as a tender touch reached past my hardened heart. I've had trouble explaining this moment to people over the years. "Did you see God?" No. "Did you feel God's presence?" Yes, but so subtle and deep inside of me, touching areas that I had closed long ago to anybody, that I knew it was God. Tears broke and streamed down my cheeks and for the first time in a long time I wept. I felt as if He had wrapped me in a warm blanket, enclosing me in his love. I stumbled from the church. I ran home and told my mom that I had just got "saved", though I really didn't understand what had occurred. Did everything magically change? No. My circumstances were still the same, but everything was different on the inside of me. I made mistakes, huge blunders as I tried to learn what it meant to follow Jesus as my Savior. I wasn't perfect, but I understood his love. I knew I wanted to know more. The people of that little church ministered to me in ways they will never understand. There were times I wept at the altar and then went home to chaos. There were times I fell in my walk with Christ and their gentle encouragement helped me to keep going. It is amazing what can happen when God restores a broken life. It can be beautiful like the portrait that my mom is now, the shattered pieces of her life assembled together in a beautiful picture of God's mercy. Today I am a mom, an author, a speaker, and a wife. I have the opportunity to minister to teens and women across the nation, sharing the story of my life and the beauty of purpose and the fact that God loved us from the beginning. My mother and father were saved when I was in my junior year of high school. I found a note from my dad under my pillow one day. I still carry it with me, the tattered pieces a reminder of what God has done. My quiet father, who very rarely shared the depth of his emotions, said in that letter, "I have watched you and I see that you have something that is of great worth, a treasure. I know that it is real and I admire you for your faith and your love for God." We have never spoken of that letter, but it came at a time when I prayed for a sign. "God, show me that you hear my prayers. Heal my family. Let me know that you are listening." The folded piece of paper under my pillow was heaven sent and priceless. For years my mom and I have been best of friends. She is compassionate, loving, and whole, and the memories of our past are forgiven and forgotten. Today I am still running after the same God that touched my life when I was 15. I always tell my teen audiences that one day I'll be an old woman running after God with my walker. You see, he's done a million things for me. He's been with me through difficult times, but my love for him will always be wrapped around that first moment when he reached down to an angry, hurting, skinny 15-year old teenager and silently whispered that he loved me. I still can't help but whisper back, "I love you too". T. Suzanne Eller (Suzie) tseller @daretobelieve.org Write Suzie and let her know your thoughts on her story! ====================================================================== >-->From SermondFodder: >Senior Discount Our minister announced that admission to a church social event would be six dollars per person. "However, if you're over 65," he said, " the price will be only $5.50." From the back of the congregation, a woman's voice rang out, "Do you really think I'd give you that information for only 50 cents?" -<>- , , /////| ///// | ///// | |~~~| | | |===| |/| | B |/| | | I | | | | B | | | | L | / | E | / |===|/ jgs '---' >This Story Doesn't Wash!, by Rubel Shelly The criminal-tragic tale of two fugitives suspected in the murder of a prison guard in my home state last week ended on a tip from a cab driver. He had dropped off the pair at a motel, without making a connection between them and the ongoing national manhunt. Then he got to thinking about them. "The cover story they gave me didn't really seem to 'wash' too much," Mike Wagers said. "I could kinda see through that. But I had no indication that these guys were really dangerous or they were on the run." During the 115-mile trip from Kentucky into Ohio, there had been some conversation. What Wagers called their "cover story" was the explanation they somehow felt compelled to give about hiring a cab for such a long trip. They told him they were on their way to an Amway convention. "They didn't strike me as the Amway type because, to be honest, they weren't very pushy about their product," continued Wagers. "And I've dealt with [Amway distributors] before, so that was my only real suspicion." Now don't any of you who sell Amway products get defensive! I have no quarrel with people who sell Amway or Chevrolets or widget baskets promoting their products. Sure, the word "pushy" has negative connotations. And some people cross that line with their sales pitches. But, the way you create a market for a product is advertising. Promotion. And word-of-mouth ads are the best of all. Wonder if the claim some of us make to be disciples of Jesus ever sounds hollow? The name "Christian" seems like a bad fit? If anybody ever thought about it later and mumbled, "I'm not sure that person's claim 'washes' with me!" Christians almost certainly hurt our cause when we are too abrupt and pushy in our evangelistic efforts. I don't like in-your-face recruiters. Intrusive sales people. Or brassy Christians who think the gospel justifies rudeness. But is it too much to expect that we speak well of our faith? The church? And Jesus? Disciples (i.e., students) of Jesus are always learning about him. Making the effort to imitate him. And it's unthinkable to me that we would never get his name into conversations or tell people the difference it makes to know him. Give him credit for something good that has happened to us or through us. Explain why we think or act a certain way in terms of commitments made to him. If it shocks a cabby that Amway dealers aren't talking about their wares, it should certainly stun people when Christians have nothing to say about Jesus. Honor Christ and let him be the Lord of your life. Always be ready to give an answer when someone asks you about your hope. (1 Peter 3:15 CEV) --------- (c) 2005 Used by permission. From Rubel Shelly's "FAX of Life" printed each Tuesday. Go to for previous issues of the "FAX of Life." For more articles like this one and a daily devotional go to www.heartlight.org ================================================================== The mark of a saint is not perfection, but consecration. A saint is not a man without faults, but a man who has given himself without reserve to God. -- W. T. Richardson ---> Visit my CyberHome - ALWAYS OPEN HOUSEE :) Shangy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/index.html Shangrala ------------------------------------------------------------------------ -->Bigham's Computer Rescue - PC Sales & Seervice You can trust us to provide you with quality computer sales and repair. 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