Discipline

When Polish pianist Ignace Jan Paderewsky played before Queen Victoria, he won her enthusiastic approval. “Mr. Paderewsky," she exclaimed, “you are a genius."
Paderewsky shook his head. “Perhaps, Your Majesty, but before that I was a drudge," he replied, alluding to the number of hours he spent practising every day.

Disciplines

If you aren't practicing, someone else is. In the 1880s a young man who was an earnest Christian found employment in a pawnshop. Although he disliked the work, he did it faithfully “as unto the Lord" until a more desirable opportunity opened for him. To prepare himself for a life of Christian service, he wrote on a scrap of paper the following resolutions: “I do promise God that I will rise early every morning to have a few minutes - not less than five - in private prayer. I will endeavour to conduct myself as a humble, meek, and zealous follower of Jesus, and by serious witness and warning I will try to lead others to think of the needs of their immortal souls. I hereby vow to read no less than four chapters in God's Word every day. I will cultivate a spirit of self-denial and will yield myself a prisoner of love to the Redeemer of the world." That young man was William Booth, who later led thousands to Christ and founded the Salvation Army.

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Vision

In More than You and Me, Kevin and Karen Miller write of the power of a God-given vision:

One couple lived in London 130 years ago. For the first 10 years of their marriage, William Booth, especially, was in a quandary: What was God calling him to do?

Then his wife, Catherine, a skilful Bible teacher, was invited to preach in London. While they were there, William took a late-night walk through the slums of London's East End. Every fifth building was a pub. Most had steps at the counter so little children could climb up and order gin. That night he told Catherine, “I seemed to hear a voice sounding in my ears, 'Where can you go and find such heathen as these, and where is there so great a need for your labours?' Darling, I have found my destiny!"

Later that year, 1865, the couple opened the “Christian Mission" in London's slums. Their life vision: to reach the “down and outers" that other Christians ignored. That simple vision of two people grew into the Salvation Army, which now ministers through 3 million members in 91 countries.

Presumption

The Associated Press ran the story of Andre-Francois Raffray. Thirty years ago, at the age of 47, he worked out a real estate deal with Jeanne Calment, age 90. He would pay her $500 each month until her death, in order to secure ownership of her apartment in Arles, France. This is a common practice in France, benefiting both buyers and seniors on a fixed income.

Unfortunately for Raffray, Jeanne Calment has become the world's oldest living person. Still alive at 120, she outlived Raffray, who died in December 1995, at the age of 77. He paid $184,000 for an apartment he never lived in. According to the contract, Raffray's survivors must continue payment until Mrs. Calment dies.

James 4:13, 15 warns us of presuming to know what the future holds.

Harmony

When Charles V stepped down as the Holy Roman Emperor some 400 years ago, he spent much of his time at his palace in Spain. He had six clocks there, and no matter how he tried, he could never get them to chime together on the hour.
In his memoirs, he wrote, “How is it possible for six different clocks to chime all at the same time? How is it even more impossible for the six nations of the Holy Roman Empire to live in harmony? It can't be done. It's impossible, even if they call themselves Christians."
Today, we know it's possible to have clocks in perfect harmony, when all are powered by the same source and all are calibrated to the same standard - Greenwich Mean Time. Likewise, unity in the church is possible, but only when all are calibrated to one standard - Christ.

- Wayne Brouwer, Preaching Today

Expectations

A traveller nearing a great city asked an old man seated by the road, “What are the people like in this city?"
The man replied, “What were they like where you came from?"
"A terrible lot," the traveller reported. “Mean, untrustworthy, detestable in all respects."
"Ah," said the old man. “You will find them the same in the city ahead."
Scarcely had the first traveller gone on his way when another stopped to inquire about the people in the city before him. Again the old man asked about the people in the place the traveller had just left.
"They were fine people, honest, industrious, and generous to a fault. I was sorry to leave," declared the second traveller.
Responded the wise one, “So you will find them in the city ahead."

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Generosity

Anne Keegan's article “Blue Christmas" was a collection of Christmas stories told by Chicago police officers. One was the story of George White.
George lived in a rented room at the YMCA. He had one set of clothes, shoes wrapped with rubber bands to keep the soles from flopping, and a threadbare black overcoat. He spent his mornings napping in an old metal chair in the back of the 18th District office.
Two officers, Kitowski and Mitch, took an interest in the old man, occasionally slipping him a few bucks. They found out that Billy the Greek over at the G&W grill gave him a hot breakfast every morning, no charge.
The two policemen and their families decided to have George as their guest for Christmas dinner. They gave him presents, which he unwrapped carefully.
As they drove him back to the Y, George asked, “Are these presents really mine to keep?" They assured him they were. “Then we must stop at the G&W Grill before I go home," he said. With that, George began rewrapping his presents.
When they walked into the G&W, Billy the Greek was there as always. “You've been good to me, Billy," said George. “Now I can be good to you. Merry Christmas." George gave all his presents away on the spot.
Generosity is natural when a grateful attitude prevails.

- Chicago Tribune Magazine (24/12/95)

Faithfulness

Newsweek (11/19/90) ran an article titled “Letters in the Sand," a compilation of letters written by military personnel to family and friends in the States during the Gulf War.
One was written by Marine Corporal Preston Coffer. He told a friend, “We are talking about Marines, not the Boy Scouts. We all joined the service knowing full well what might be expected of us." He signed off with the Marine motto, Semper Fi, Latin for “always faithful."
The Bible says, “Now it is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful" (1 Cor. 4:2).

Relationships

In March 1995, The New England Pipe Cleaning Company of Watertown, Connecticut, was digging twenty-five feet beneath the streets of Revere, Massachusetts, in order to clean a clogged 10-inch sewer line. In addition to the usual materials one might expect to find in a clogged sewer line, the three-man team found 61 rings, vintage coins, eyeglasses, and silverware, all of which they were allowed to keep.
Whether it's pipes or people, if you put up with some mess, sometimes you find real treasure.

Our Greatest Legacy

Louis Pasteur, the pioneer of immunology, lived at a time when thousands of people died each year of rabies. Pasteur had worked for years on a vaccine. Just as he was about to begin experimenting on himself, a 9-year-old, Joseph Meister, was bitten by a rabid dog. The boy's mother begged Pasteur to experiment on her son. Pasteur injected Joseph for ten days - and the boy lived.
Decades later, of all the things Pasteur could have had etched on his headstone, he asked for three words: JOSEPH MEISTER LIVED.
Our greatest legacy will be those who live eternally because of our efforts. - R.Wayne Willis, Louisville, Kentucky

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Criticism

Colonel George Washington Goethals, the man responsible for the completion of the Panama Canal, had big problems with the climate and the geography. But his biggest challenge was the growing criticism back home from those who predicted he'd never finish the project.
Finally, a colleague asked him, “Aren't you going to answer these critics?"
"In time," answered Goethals.
"When?" his partner asked.
"When the canal is finished."

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Peace of Mind

Several years ago the Sociology Department of Duke University did a study on “peace of mind". Several factors were found to contribute greatly to emotional and mental stability. They are:
1. The absence of suspicions and resentment. Nursing a grudge was a major factor in unhappiness.
2. Not living in the past. An unwholesome preoccupation with old mistakes and failures leads to depression.
3. Not wasting time and energy fighting conditions you cannot change. Cooperate with life, instead of trying to run away from it.
4. Force yourself to stay involved with the living world. Resist the temptation to withdraw and become reclusive during periods of emotional stress.
5. Refuse to indulge in self-pity when life hands you a raw deal. Accept the fact that nobody gets through life without some sorrow and misfortune.
6. Cultivate the old-fashioned virtues - love, honor, compassion and loyalty.
7. Don't expect too much of yourself. When there is too wide a gap between self-expectation and your ability to meet the goals you have set, feelings of inadequacy are inevitable.
8. Find something bigger than yourself to believe in. Self-centered, egotistical people score lowest in any test for measuring happiness.

This was copied from an Ann Landers column years and years ago.

You Can Keep the Fork

The sound of Martha's voice on the other end of the telephone always brought a smile to Brother Jim's face. This time, however, there seemed to be an unusual tone to her words.
"Preacher, could you stop by this afternoon? I need to talk with you."
"Of course, I'll be there around three. Is that ok?"
It didn't take long for Jim to discover the reason for what he had only sensed in her voice before. Martha shared the news that her doctor had just discovered a previously undetected tumour.
"He says I probably have six months to live". Martha's words were naturally serious, yet there was a definite calm about her. “I'm so sorry to..." but before Jim could finish, Martha interrupted.
"Don't be. The Lord has been good. I have lived a long life. I'm ready to go."
"I know," Jim whispered with a reassuring nod.
"But I do want to talk with you about my funeral. I have been thinking about it, and there are things that I know I want."
The two talked quietly for a long time. When it seemed that they had covered just about everything, Aunt Martie paused, looked up at Jim with a twinkle in her eye, and then added, “One more thing, preacher. When they bury me, I want my old Bible in one hand and a fork in the other".
"A fork?" Jim was sure he had heard everything, but this caught him by surprise. “Why do you want to be buried with a fork?"
"I have been thinking about all of the church dinners and banquets that I attended through the years," she explained, “Sometimes, at the best ones, somebody would lean over my shoulder and whisper, 'You can keep your fork. And do you know what that meant? Dessert was coming! And not a cup of Jell-O or pudding or even a dish of ice cream. You don't need a fork for that. It meant the good stuff, like chocolate cake or cherry pie! When they told me I could keep my fork, I knew the best was yet to come! That's exactly what I want people to talk about at my funeral. Sure, they can talk about all the good times we had together. That would be nice. But when they walk by my casket and look at my pretty blue dress, I want them to turn to one another and say, 'Why the fork'?
That's when I want you to tell them, that I kept my fork because 'the best is yet to come!'"

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Demons at the Door

Once there was this very wealthy young man. He lived in a great, elaborate house with dozens of rooms. Each room was more comfortable and more beautiful than the one before it.
There were paintings and sculptures, crystal chandeliers, and golden ornate railings on the stairs. More beauty than most have ever seen.
One day he decided to invite the Lord to come home and stay with him. When the Lord arrived, this young man offered him the very best room in the house. The room was upstairs and at the end of the hall.
"This room is yours, Jesus! Stay as long as you like, and you can do whatever you want to in this room, remember Jesus, it's all yours. "Thank you," the Lord replied, and with that the man shut the door and went about his daily business.
That evening, after he had retired for the night, there came a loud knocking at the front door. The young man pulled on his robe and made his way downstairs. When he opened the door, he found that the devil had sent three of his demons to attack the man. He quickly tried to close the door, but one of the demons kept sticking his foot in the door.
Sometime later, after a great struggle, he managed to slam the door shut and returned to his room totally exhausted. Can you believe that!
The man thought. Jesus is upstairs in my very best room sleeping while I am down here battling demons. Oh, well, maybe he just didn't hear. He slept fitfully that night.
The next day, things went along as normal and, being tired as he was, the young man retired early that evening. Along about midnight, there came such a terrible ruckus at the front door that the young man was sure that whatever it was would tear the door down. He stumbled down the stairs once again and opened the door to find that there were dozens of demons now trying to get into his beautiful home. For more than three hours, he fought and struggled against the demons from hell and finally overtook them enough to shut the door against their attack. All energy seemed to fail him.
I really don't understand this at all. Why won't the Lord come to my rescue? Why does he allow me to fight all by myself? I feel so alone. Troubled, he found his way to the sofa and fell into a restless sleep.
The next morning he decided to inquire of the Lord about the happenings of the last two evenings. Quietly he made his way to the elegant bedroom where he had left Jesus. “Jesus," he called as he tapped at the door.
"Lord, I don't understand what is happening. For the last two nights, I have had to fight the demons away from my door while you laid up here sleeping. Don't you care about me? Did I not give you the very best room in house? He could see the tears building in Jesus' eyes but continued on, “I just don't understand. I really thought that once I invited you in to live with me that you would take care of me and I gave you the best room in my house and everything. What more can I do?"
"My precious child," Jesus spoke so softly. “I do love and care for you. I protect all that you have released into my care. But when you invited me to come here and stay, you brought me to this lovely room, and you shut the door to the rest of your house. I am Lord of this room, but I am not Master of this house. I have protected this room, and no demon may enter here."
Oh, Lord, please forgive me. Take all of my house - it is yours - I am so sorry that I never offered you all to begin with. I want you to have control of everything." With this he flung open the bedroom door and knelt at Jesus' feet. “Please forgive me, Lord, for being so selfish." Jesus smiled and told him that He had already forgiven him, and that He would take care of things from now on.
That night as the young man prepared for bed, he thought to himself, “I wonder if those demons will return. I am so tired of fighting them each and every night." But he knew that Jesus said that he would take care of things from now on. Along about midnight the banging on the door was frightening.
The young man slipped out of his room in time to see Jesus going down the stairs. He watched in awe as Jesus swung open the door, no need to be afraid. Satan stood at the door this time demanding to be let in. “What do you want, Satan?" the Lord asked.
The devil bowed low in the presence of the Lord, “So sorry, I seem to have gotten the wrong address." And with that, he and the demons all ran away.

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Let There Be Peace - A Modern Parable

A wise old gentleman retired and purchased a modest home near a junior high school. He spent the first few weeks of his retirement in peace and contentment.
Then a new school year began. The very next afternoon three young boys, full of youthful, after-school enthusiasm, came down his street, beating merrily on every trash can they encountered. The crashing percussion continued day after day, until finally the wise old man decided it was time to take some action.
The next afternoon, he walked out to meet the young percussionists as they banged their way down the street. Stopping them, he said, “You kids are a lot of fun. I like to see you express your exuberance like that. Used to do the same thing when I was your age. Will you do me a favor? I'll give you each a dollar if you'll promise to come around every day and do your thing."
The kids were elated and continued to do a bang-up job on the trashcans. After a few days, the old-timer greeted the kids again, but this time he had a sad smile on his face.
"This recession's really putting a big dent in my income," he told them. “From now on, I'll only be able to pay you 50 cents to beat on the cans."
The noisemakers were obviously displeased, but they did accept his offer and continued their afternoon ruckus.
A few days later, the wily retiree approached them again as they drummed their way down the street. “Look," he said, “I haven't received my Social Security check yet, so I'm not going to be able to give you more than 25 cents. Will that be okay?"
"A lousy quarter?" the drum leader exclaimed. “If you think we're going to waste our time, beating these cans around for a quarter, you're nuts! No way, mister. We quit!"
And the old man enjoyed peace and serenity for the rest of his days.

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Prayer in Trouble

I asked God for strength, that I might achieve.
I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health, that I might do greater things.
I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.
I asked for riches, that I might be happy.
I was given poverty, that I might be wise.
I asked for power that I might have the praise of men.
I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life.
I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for -
but everything I had hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am, among all people, most richly blessed.

- an Unknown Confederate Soldier

The Old Fisherman

Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of John Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic. One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. “Why, he's hardly taller than my eight-year-old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shrivelled body. But the appalling thing was his face - lopsided from swelling, red and raw. Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, “Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus till morning." He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success, no one seemed to have a room. “I guess it's my face... I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments . . ."
For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: “I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning." I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us. “No thank you. I have plenty." And he held up a brown paper bag. When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn't take long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury. He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was prefaced with thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going. At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him.
When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favour, he said, “Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair."
He pause a moment and then added, “Your children made me feel at home. Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind."
I told him he was welcome to come again. And on his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh I knew his bus left at 4:00 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.
In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden. Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious. When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbour made after he left that first morning. “Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!"
Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illnesses would have been easier to bear. I know our family always will be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.
Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse, As she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself, “If this were my plant, I'd put it in the loveliest container I had!" My friend changed my mind. “I ran short of pots," she explained, “and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't mind starting out in this old pail. It's just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden."
She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. “Here's an especially beautiful one," God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. “He won't mind starting in this small body."
All this happened long ago - and now, in God's garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.

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Creation: A Sioux Story

"The Creator gathered all of Creation and said, “I want to hide something from the humans until they are ready for it. It is the realisation that they create their own reality." The eagle said, “Give it to me, I will take it to the moon." The Creator said, “No. One day they will go there and find it." The salmon said, “I will bury it on the bottom of the ocean. “No. They will go there too." The buffalo said, “I will bury it on the Great Plains." The Creator said, “They will cut into the skin of the Earth and find it even there." Grandmother Mole, who lives in the breast of Mother Earth, and who has no physical eyes but sees with spiritual eyes, said, “Put it inside of them." And the Creator said, “It is done."

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What If???

What if God couldn't take the time to bless us today because we couldn't take the time to thank Him yesterday?
What if God decided to stop leading us tomorrow because we did not follow Him today?
What if we never saw another flower bloom because we grumbled when God sent the rain?
What if God didn't walk with us today because we failed to recognise it as His day?
What if God took away the Bible tomorrow because we would not read it today?
What if God took away His message because we failed to listen to His messenger?
What if the door of the church was closed because we did not open the door of our heart?
What if God stopped loving and caring for us because we failed to love and care for others?
What if God would not hear us today because we would not listen to Him yesterday?
What if God answered our prayers the way we answer His call for service?
What if God met our needs the way we give Him our lives???

The Approval of the Master

There is a very well-known story told of a young boy in Austria giving his first violin recital. He had studied hard for years under the guidance of one of the greatest masters in all of Europe. The boy had tremendous talent, and he had learned his lessons well. As he stood on the stage before an audience of hundreds of lovers of good music, he performed with confidence and skill.
Following each piece, the crowd cheered loudly. He was one of the finest young performers they had ever had the pleasure of hearing. And yet the boy seemed not to notice their expressions of approval. In fact, some later commented that he almost seemed annoyed by the applause.
At the conclusion of the recital, the entire audience rose as one to give the young performer a standing ovation. They shouted “Bravo “ and “Encore! “ and other words of praise and appreciation. However, the young musician seemed not even to hear them. Instead, he stood looking up into the balcony where an old, withered man sat looking back down at him. Finally, the old gentleman smiled and nodded his head in approval. Only then did the lad seem to relax, and his face beamed with joy. You see, the cheers of the crowd meant nothing unless he had the approval of the master! It was only the latter that this young performer sought!
This is a principle the Apostle Paul understood very well. At Lystra he was hailed as a god, and the people sought to offer up sacrifices to him (Acts 14:11­13). Even to this day, disciples of Christ often refer to this man as “the greatest Christian who has ever lived! “
When we realise, as did Paul, that it is the Master whom we serve and seek to please, both the acclaim and criticism of mere men will pale in comparison! “Be diligent to present yourself approved unto God “ (2 Tim. 2:15).

Al Maxey, The Aloha Spirit

The Butchers Dance...

A truly Australian story....

A guy has spent five years travelling all around the world making a documentary on Native dances. At the end of this time, he has every single native dance of every indigenous culture in the world on film. He winds up in Alice Springs so he pops into a pub for a well earned beer. He gets talking to one of the local Aborigines and tells him about his project. The Aborigine asks the guy what he thought of the “Butcher's Dance". The guy's a bit confused and says “Butcher's Dance? What's that?"
"What? You no see Butcher's Dance?"
"No, I've never heard of it."
"Oh mate. You crazy. How you say you film every native dance if you no see Butcher's Dance?"
"UmmSUM. I got a corroboree on film just the other week. Is that what you mean?"
"No no, not corroboree. Butcher's Dance much more important than corroboree."
"Oh, well how can I see this Butcher's Dance then?"
"Mate, Butcher's Dance right out bush. Many days travel to go see Butcher's Dance."
"Look, I've been everywhere from the forests of the Amazon, to deepest darkest Africa, to the frozen wastes of the Arctic filming these dances. Nothing will prevent me from recording this one last dance."
"OK, mate. You drive north along highway towards Darwin. After you drive 197 miles, you see dirt track veer off to left. Follow dirt track for 126 miles til you see big huge dead gum tree - biggest tree you ever see. Here you gotta leave car, coz much too rough for driving. You strike out due west into setting sun. You walk 3 days til you hit creek. You follow this creek to Northwest. After 2 days you find where creak flows out of rocky mountains. Much too difficult to cross mountains here though. You now head south for half day til you see pass through mountains. Pass very difficult, very dangerous. Take 2, maybe 3 days to get through rocky pass. When through, head north-west for 4 days til reach big huge rock - 20 ft high and shaped like man's head. From rock, walk due west for 2 days and you find village. Here you see Butcher's Dance."
So the guy grabs his camera crew and equipment and heads out. After a couple of hours he finds the dirt track. The track is in a shocking state and he's forced to crawl along at a snails pace and so he doesn't reach the tree until dusk and he's forced to set up camp for the night. He sets out bright and early the following morning. His spirits are high and he's excited about the prospect of capturing on film this mysterious dance which he had never heard mention of before. True to the directions he has been given, he reaches the creek after three days and follows it for another two until they reach the rocky mountains. The merciless sun is starting to take its toll by this time and his spirits are starting to flag, but wearily he trudges on until he finds the pass through the hills - nothing will prevent him from completing his life's dream. The mountains prove to be every bit as treacherous as their guide said and at times they almost despair of getting their bulky equipment through. But after three and a half days of back breaking effort they finally force their way clear and continue their long trek. When they reach the huge rock, four days later, their water is running low and their feet are covered with blisters but they steel themselves and head out on the last leg of their journey. Two days later they virtually stagger into the village where the natives feed them and give them fresh water and they begin to feel like new men. Once he's recovered enough, the guy goes before the village chief and tells him that he has come to film there Butcher's Dance.
"Oh mate. Very bad you come today. Butcher's Dance last night. You too late. You miss dance."
"Well, when do you hold the next dance?"
"Not til' next year."
"Well, I've come all this way. Couldn't you just hold an extra dance for me, tonight?"
"No, no, no! Butcher's Dance very holy. Only hold once a year. If hold more, gods get very angry and destroy village! You want see Butcher's Dance you come back next year."
The guy is devastated. But he has no other option but to head back to civilisation and back home.
The following year, he heads back to Australia and, determined not to miss out again, sets out a week earlier than last time. He is quite willing to spend a week in the village before the dance is performed in order to ensure he is present to witness it.
However, right from the start things go wrong. Heavy rains that year have turned the dirt track to mud and the car gets bogged every few miles, finally forcing them to abandon their vehicles and slog through the mud on foot almost half the distance to the tree. They reach the creek and the mountains without any further hitch, but halfway through the ascent of the mountain they are struck by a fierce storm which rages for several days, during which they are forced to cling forlornly to the mountainside until it subsides. It would be suicide to attempt to scale the treacherous paths in the face of such savage elements. Then, before they have travelled a mile out from the mountains, one of the crew sprains his ankle badly which slows down the rest of their journey to the rock and then the village enormously. Eventually, having lost all sense of how long they have been travelling, they stagger into the village at about 12:00 noon.
"The Butcher's Dance!" gasps the guy. “Please don't tell me I'm too late!"
The elder recognises him and says “No, white fella. Butcher's Dance performed tonight. You come just in time."
Relieved beyond measure, the crew spend the rest of the afternoon setting up their equipment - preparing to capture the night's ritual on celluloid As dusk falls, the natives start to cover there bodies in white paint and adorn themselves in all manner of bird's feathers and animal skins.
Once darkness has settled fully over the land, the natives form a circle around a huge roaring fire. A deathly hush descends over performers and spectators alike as a wizened old figure with elaborate swirling designs covering his entire body enters the circle and begins to chant. Some sort of witch doctor or medicine man, figures the guy and he whispers to the elder, “What's he doing?"
"Hush" whispers the elder. “You first white man ever to see most sacred of our rituals. Must remain silent. Holy man, he asks that the spirits of the dreamworld watch as we demonstrate our devotion to them through our dance and, if they like our dancing, will they be so gracious as to watch over us and protect us for another year."
The chanting of the holy man reaches a stunning crescendo before he removes himself from the circle. From somewhere the rhythmic pounding of drums booms out across the land and the natives begin to sway to the stirring rhythm.
The guy is becoming caught up in the fervour of the moment himself. This is it. He now realises beyond all doubt that his wait has not been in vain. He is about to witness the ultimate performance of rhythm and movement ever conceived by mankind.
The elder strides to his position in the circle and, in a big booming voice, starts to sing:
"You butch yer right arm in. You butch yer right arm out. You butch yer right arm in and you shake it all about...."

source unknown

BELONGIL REGATTA - A Study In Bureaucracy

Once upon a time Byron Council and Ballina Council decided to engage in an annual boat race on the Belongil Creek. Both teams trained long and hard to reach their peak performance. On the big day Ballina won by a mile.
The Byron team was rather discouraged by their loss and morale sagged. Senior management decided that a reason for the crushing defeat must be found and a project team was set up to investigate the problem and take appropriate action.
It was found that while Ballina had eight people rowing and one person steering, Byron had one person rowing and eight people steering.
Senior management accordingly hired consultants to study Byron's team structure.
For half a million dollars, the consultants advised that the team needed to be better coordinated so that more effort went into rowing. The new Byron team consisted of four steering managers, three senior steering managers, one executive steering manager and the rower.
A performance appraisal system was set up to give the rower more incentive and he was sent to courses run by the consultants so that he would feel more empowered.
The next year the Ballina team won by two miles. Byron council sacked the rower for poor performance, sold off the paddles and halted work on a new canoe. The money saved was used as performance bonuses for senior management."

reprinted from the “Byron Shire News" 19.7.95 in Bulletin - October 18, 1998

When God Created Mothers

When the Lord God was creating Mothers He was into His sixth day of “overtime" when an angel appeared and said, “You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
But the Lord said, “Have you read the spec on this order? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts . . . all replaceable. Run on black coffee and cold leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands."
The angel shook her head slowly and said, “Six pairs of hands? ... no way!"
"It's not the hands that are causing the problems," said the Lord, “It's the three pairs of eyes that Mothers have to have."
"And that's on the standard model?" asked the angel.
The Lord nodded yes. “One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks ''What are you kids doing in there?' when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say, 'I understand and I love you,' without so much as uttering a word.
"Lord," said the angel touching His sleeve gently, “Come to bed. You can finish Tomorrow . . . “
"I can't," said the Lord. “I'm so close to creating something close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick . . . can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger . . . and can get a nine-year-old to stand under a shower."
The angel circled the model of a Mother very slowly. “It's too soft," she sighed.
"But touch!" said the Lord excitedly. “You cannot imagine what this mother can do or endure."
"Can it think?"
"Not only think, but it can reason and compromise." said the Creator.
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. “There's a leak!"
Said the Lord, “No, it's not a leak: it's a tear."
"What is it for?"
"It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness and pride."
"You're a genius," said the angel.
The Lord looked sombre. “I didn't put it there."

- Erma Bombeck

A Story Heard on US News Radio

Guy buys brand new Grand Cherokee for 30 some thousand dollars and has 400+ dollar monthly payments. He immediately gets a hold of his friend and they go do some male bonding. They go duck hunting and of course all the lakes are frozen.
These 2 Atomic Brains go to the lake with the guns, the dog, the beer and of course the new vehicle. They drive out onto the lake ice and get ready. Now, they want to make some kind of a natural landing area for the ducks, something for the decoys to float on. Remember, it's all ice and in order to make a hole large enough to look like something a wandering duck wants to fly down and land on, it is going to take a little more effort than an ice hole drill.
Out of the back of the new Grand Cherokee comes a stick of dynamite with a short, 40 second fuse.
Now these 2 Rocket Scientists do take into consideration that if they place the stick of dynamite on the ice at a location far from where they are standing (and the new Grand Cherokee), they take the risk of slipping on the ice when they run from the burning fuse and possibly going up in smoke with the resulting blast. So, they decide to light this 40 second fuse and throw the dynamite which is what they end up doing.
Remember a couple of paragraphs back when I mentioned the vehicle, the beer, the guns AND THE DOG ????
Yes, the dog. A highly trained Black Lab used for retrieving, especially things thrown by the owner.
You guessed it, the dog takes off at a high rate of doggy speed on the ice and gets the stick of dynamite with the burning 40 second fuse about the time it hits the ice all to the woes of the 2 idiots yelling, stomping, waving arms and wondering what the hell to do now.
The dog, well it is happy and heads back from where it came from moments before, with the stick of dynamite, only to the mounting woes of the 2 bozo's now really waving their arms, yelling even louder and jumping to new heights than ever before.
Now one of the guys decides to think, something that he has never done before this moment, grabs a shotgun and shoots the dog. The shotgun is loaded with #8 duck shot, hardly big enough to stop a Black Lab on its appointed rounds.
Dog stops for a moment, slightly confused and continues on. Another shot and this time the dog, still standing, becomes really confused & of course scared, thinking these 2 Nobel Prize winners have gone insane and takes off to find cover, with the now really short short fuse burning on this stick of dynamite.
The cover the dogs finds? Underneath the brand new Grand Cherokee 30 some thousand dollar 400+ monthly payment vehicle sitting on the lake ice.
BOOM !
Dog dies, and it and the brand new Grand Cherokee 30 some thousand dollar 400+ monthly payment vehicle sink to the bottom of the lake leaving the 2 candidates for Co-leaders of the Known Universe standing there with this “I can't believe this happened" look on their faces.
Later, the owner of the vehicle calls his insurance company which tells him that sinking a vehicle in a lake by illegal use of explosives is not covered. He had yet to make the first of those 400+ a month payments.
I felt pretty sorry for the dog myself.

from the Darwin Awards

The Only Pearly Gates Story I Ever Liked

A man dies and goes to heaven. Of course, St. Peter meets him at the pearly gates. St. Peter says, “Here's how it works. You need 100 points to make it into heaven. You tell me all the good things you've done, and I give you a certain number of points for each item, depending on how good it was. When you reach 100 points, you get in."
"Okay," the man says, “I was married to the same woman for 50 years and never cheated on her, even in my heart."
"That's wonderful," says St. Peter, “that's worth three points!"
"Three points?" he says. “Well, I attended church all my life and supported its ministry with my tithe and service."
"Terrific!" says St. Peter, “that's certainly worth a point."
"One point? Golly. How about this: I started a soup kitchen in my city and worked in a shelter for homeless veterans."
"Fantastic, that's good for two more points, “ he says.
"TWO POINTS!!" the man cries, “At this rate the only way I get into heaven is by the grace of God!"
"Come on in!"

source unknown