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In my retirement I am pastoring a Presbyterian congregation. Several weeks ago, lightning struck the steeple of our sanctuary and did quite a bit of damage. One elder, who runs a cattle farm, was talking to the contractor about his concern over how long we would be out of the sanctuary for the repairs. He noted, “Presbyterians are a lot like cattle. When the fences are down, they have a tendency to scatter, and it’s almost impossible to gather them up again.”
At our men’s morning coffee club, one man related the story of the wonderful RV camper trip he and his wife had taken across the United States. He was told by the Yellowstone Park ranger to lock up any food in the trunk of his car, as, if left out in the open, bears would smell it and cause havoc.
In the night his wife woke him to say “Wake up! I hear bears outside our camper!” He dutifully went outside to check—not too smart!—but there were no bears.
Later that night, his wife heard the same sound. Once again she woke him up and he checked it out—but there were still no bears.
The next morning as they discussed the evening experience, they figured out that there had never been bears outside their camper. The sound his wife heard was John rubbing the canvas with his big toe in his sleep!
A little girl was sitting on her grandfather’s lap as he read her a bedtime story. From time to time she would take her eyes off the book and reach up to touch his wrinkled cheek, alternating with stroking her own smooth cheek.
Finally she said, “Grandpa, did God make you?”
“Yes, sweetheart,” he answered. “God made me a long time ago.”
“Oh,” she said. “Did God make me too?”
“Yes, honey. God made you just a little while ago.”
Feeling their respective faces once more, she observed, “God’s getting better at it, isn’t he?”
I don’t trust mimes. They do unspeakable things.
Dave De Wit
The Sunday school teacher asked her preschool class, “How many of you would like to go to heaven?” All the children raised their hands except one. The teacher asked Tommy why he wouldn’t like to go to heaven.
He answered, “I’m sorry, but I can’t. My mother told me to come right home after Sunday school.”
Sutton: Nana, in a few weeks I get to go to TK. You know what TK stands for?
Nana: What does it stand for?
Sutton: (with a smug “I know everything” face): Tarantula Kindergarten.
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