When Mrs. Jones found out she was pregnant, she shared the good news with her husband, unaware that Johnny, the youngest of her four sons, was listening. She went on to share the news with anyone who would listen.
One day when Johnny and his mother were in the supermarket, a woman asked him if he was excited about the new baby.
“Yes I am,” Johnny replied, “and I know what we’re going to name it too. If it’s a girl, we’re going to call her Christina. If it’s another boy, we’re going to call it Quits.”
After circling a downtown office building several times, a pastor parked his car in a spot clearly marked “No Parking.” He wrote the following note and left it under the windshield wiper: “I am already late for an important meeting.” Underneath he signed his name, adding as a P.S., “Forgive me my trespasses.”
A couple of hours later the pastor returned to his car and found a ticket tucked underneath the windshield wiper, along with a note: “It is my job to issue tickets, and if I don’t, I will get fired.” The patrolman signed his name, adding as a P.S., “Lead me not into temptation.”
The large McDonald’s in our neighborhood decided to hire a part-time chaplain in order to help its employees deal with the difficult issues they face in their lives. The title they chose for this position: “Arch Bishop.”
Spotted in the Ascension Sunday bulletin: “Song: ‘Angus Day’ (see projection screen).”
What actually appeared on the projection screen were the words to “Agnus Dei.”
As I was driving my 4-year-old triplet granddaughters home from school one day, they asked me where my mom and dad were. I told them my mom was in heaven with Jesus.
“Oh,” said Olivia. “I’m going to heaven someday.”
Evie and Sophie agreed that they would also be going. “But we’re not going to stay there,” said Olivia. “We’re gonna come back.”
Then they began discussing ways to return. A car, thought Evie, or maybe a truck.
Sophie said, “I’m gonna need a parachute—a pink one!”
After breakfast one morning, my 5-year-old daughter, Tenley, was sitting on my lap. Four-year-old Carys came up and wanted to sit on my lap as well.
“Sorry,” I said, “there is no room in the inn.”
Pointing to the chair beside us, Tenley piped up, “But there’s a little stable over there!”
We were reading out of a children’s story Bible. Seeing a picture of Paul with his eyes closed, our 2-year-old son exclaimed, “That man is sleeping standing up!”
“Maybe he’s praying,” I suggested.
His response was prompt. “No, he’s not. His hands are not folded.”
Our 6-year-old granddaughter, Danica, was memorizing John 3:16 for Sunday school. She asked her dad what “perish” meant. Before he could answer, her 4-year-old sister replied, “That’s where Barbie goes!”
It took us a second to realize she meant “Paris.”