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Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
September 23, 2003

A man had a little daughter–an only and much beloved child. He lived only for her, she was his life. So when she became ill and her illness resisted the efforts of the best obtainable physicians, he became like a man possessed, moving heaven and earth to bring about her restoration to health.

His best efforts proved fruitless, however, and the child died. The father was totally irreconcilable. He became a bitter recluse, shutting himself away from his many friends, refusing every activity that might restore his poise and bring him back to his normal self.

Then one night he had a dream. He was in heaven and witnessing a grand pageant of all the little child angels. They were marching in an apparently endless line past the Great White Throne. Every white-robed, angelic tot carried a candle. He noticed, however, that one child’s candle was not lit. Then he saw that the child with the dark candle was his own little girl. Rushing towards her, while the pageant faltered, he seized her in his arms, caressed her tenderly, and asked, “How is that your candle is the only one not lit?” “Father, they often relight it, but your tears always put it out again,” she said.

Just then he awoke from from his dream. The lesson was crystal clear, and it’s effects were immediate. From that hour on he was no longer a recluse, but mingled freely and cheerfully with his former friends and associates. No longer would his little darling’s candle be extingushed by his useless tears.

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Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
September 21, 2002

There was once a man who didn’t believe in God and didn’t hesitate to let others know how he felt about religion and religious holidays, like Christmas. His wife did believe and raised their children to have faith in God and Jesus.

One snowy Christmas Eve, his wife was taking their children to a Christmas Eve service in the farm community in which they lived. She asked her husband to come, but he refused as usual, .. “The Christmas story is nonsense!” he exclaimed. “Why would God lower Himself to come to Earth as a man? That’s ridiculous!” She and the children went, and he stayed home.

That night the wind began to blow and the snow turned into a blizzard. As the man looked out the window, all he could see was a blinding snowstorm. He sat down before the fire-place to relax . Suddenly there was a loud thump. Something had hit the window. Then a second thump. He looked out, but couldn’t see more than a few feet because of the blinding snow.

When the storm let up a little, he ventured out to see what could have been beating on his window. In the field near the house was a flock of wild geese. Apparently they were flying south when they were caught in the blizzard and couldn’t go on.

They were lost and stranded on his farm, without food or shelter. Flapping their wings, they aimlessly flew around the field in low circles. Some had apparently flown into his window.

The man felt concern for the geese and wanted to help them.

The barn would be a great place for them to stay, he thought. It was warm and safe. They would be saved if they spent the night there waiting out the storm.

He opened the barn doors wide. Then he watched and waited, hoping they would notice the open barn and enter. But the geese just fluttered around aimlessly and didn’t seem to notice the barn or realize what it could mean for them.

The man tried to get their attention, but that just seemed to scare them and they moved further away. He went into the house and brought out some bread, broke it up, and made a breadcrumb trail leading to the barn. They still didn’t catch on.

Now he was getting frustrated. He got behind them and tried to shoo them toward the barn, but they only became frightened and scattered in every direction except toward the barn.

Nothing he did could get them to go into the barn where they would be safe. “Why don’t they follow me?” he puzzled. “Can’t they see this is the only place where they can survive?”

He thought for a moment and realized that they just wouldn’t follow a human. “If only I were a goose, then I could save them,” he said out loud.

Suddenly he had an idea. He went into the barn, got one of his own geese, and carried it in his arms as he circled around behind the flock of wild geese. When he released his goose, it flew through the flock and straight into the safety of the barn. One by one the other geese followed it to safety.

He stood silently for a moment as the words he had spoken a few minutes earlier replayed in his mind: “If only I were a goose, then I could save them!” Then he thought about what he had said to his wife.

Suddenly it all made sense. That is what God had done. We were like the geese–blind, lost, perishing. God had His Son become like us so He could show us the way and save us. That was the meaning of Christmas, he realized. As the winds and blinding snow died down, his soul became quiet. Suddenly he understood what Christmas was all about, why Christ had come.

Years of doubt and disbelief vanished like the passing storm. He fell to his knees in the snow, and prayed his first real prayer: “Thank You, Lord, for coming in human form to get me out of this world and leading me to a better one. Lead me to the safety of Your Father’s arms.”

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Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
September 20, 2000

Occasionally I share a Blog Post that touches my heart…..    You can tell by the title of the Blog why it got my attention: “Morning Coffee and Daily Devotional.”  Get a fresh cup of coffee or tea and enjoy….  The Link is below       Take Care and God Bless  :-)  Kenny  T

http://morningcoffeedevotions.wordpress.com/2014/09/07/morning-coffee-9714-just-be-thankful/

 

 

Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
September 18, 1999

Kleenex Alert!!!!

Dr. Frederic Loomis faced a very difficult decision, should he allow the deformed baby about to be delivered to live or die. He had only seconds to decide. Dr. Loomis had delivered hundreds of babies, but this one was different.

The infant lay in a breech position, promising at best a difficult and dangerous birth. One of its feet stretched only to the knee of the other leg. Furthermore, the child was missing a thigh. The mother, a frail person visiting the sterile delivery room for her first time, wasn’t aware of the grossly deformed child struggling to survive.

Dr. Loomis closed his eyes; at his fingertips squirmed a pitiful creature yet unborn. Would not the most loving thing be to detain the birth long enough to cause the child to be stillborn? He agonized within himself. Will this kid not be considered a freak, a twisted burden to its delicate mother?

How can I justify playing a part in such a cruel drama? Surely no one will ever know if I spare this family from inevitable pain. The doctor, through the baby’s cord, felt its heartbeat- dancing in rhythm to his own wildly racing heart.

As Dr. Loomis continued to prevent the birth, he felt the normal foot pressing for passage into the world. Suddenly, he could no longer justify “playing God.” Instead, he would trust God to care for this child against what seemed to be impossible odds. Dr. Loomis delivered the infant into the world, which, he sensed, would be very unkind.

In the years that followed, Dr. Loomis often second-guessed his decision. He watched the anguish of the family as desperate parents sought in vain to find some correction for their child’s deformity. Even after they moved away, Dr. Loomis continued to lament the burden that he’d saddled on the family. The heartache, if often said to himself, was his fault. In time, however, Dr. Loomis would find peace. It came at an unexpected time and place, the hospital Christmas party.

Typically, it was during the holiday season when his pain seemed most severe. He couldn’t shake the image of that unfortunate child from his mind. While the world celebrated the greatest birth ever known, Dr. Loomis obsessed over the saddest birth he’d ever known.

At this particular party, the most heavenly music filled the room. The sadness seemed to dissipate as the rich tones of “Silent Night” washed Dr. Loomis’ anguished spirit.

Following the concert, a woman approached him. “Doctor,”  she said excitedly. “You saw her!”

Dr. Loomis studied the woman’s face, wanting to recognize her but unable to recall the memory. “I’m sorry. I should know you, but you may need to help me.”

“Don’t you remember the little girl with only one good leg, seventeen years ago?”

Remember….it was the one thing in his life that he couldn’t forget!

In disbelief, he listened to her story. “That baby was my daughter, Doctor. And I saw you watching her play the harp tonight! She has an artificial leg. She’s doing well.”

At her Mom’s bidding, the lovely harpist walked toward them.  With tears in his eyes, Dr. Loomis enveloped the girl in his arms. “Please,” he said in a tightening voice, “please play Silent Night for me one more time.”

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Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
September 17, 2014

Years ago a farmer who owned land along the Atlantic seacoast constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic because of the awful storms that raged across the Atlantic, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops. As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received a steady stream of refusals.

Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached the farmer. “Are you a good farmhand?” the farmer asked him.

“Well, I can sleep when the wind blows,” answered the little man.

Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help, hired him. The little man worked well around the farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and the farmer was well satisfied with the man’s work.

Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore.  Jumping out of bed, the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed next door to the hired hand’s sleeping quarters. He shook the little man and yelled, “Get up! A storm is coming! Tie things down before they blow away!”

The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, “No sir. I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows..”

Enraged by the response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm.  To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had been covered with tarpaulins. The cows were in the barn, the chickens were in the coops, the doors were barred, the shutters were tightly secured, everything was tied down. Nothing could blow away.

The farmer then understood what his hired hand meant, so he returned to his bed to also sleep while the wind blew.

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Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
September 17, 2007

One day a beggar saw a proclamation posted on the palace gate. The king was giving a great dinner to honor his son. Anyone dressed in royal garments was invited. The beggar looked at the rags he was wearing and sighed. Surely only kings and their families had royal garments.

An idea crept into his mind. The audacity of it made him tremble. The beggar approached the guard at the gate saying, “Please, sire, may I speak to the king.”

“Wait here,” the guard replied.

In a few minutes, he returned. “His majesty will see you,” he said, and led the beggar in.

“You wish to see me?” asked the king.

“Yes, your majesty. I would like to attend the banquet honoring your son but I have no royal robes. Please, sir, if I may be so bold, may I have one of your old garments so that I may attend the banquet?”

“You have been wise in asking me,” the king replied. He called to his son requesting, “Take this man to your room and dress him in some of your clothes.”

The prince did and soon the beggar was clothed in royal garments that he had never dared dream or hope for.

“You are eligible to attend my father’s banquet tomorrow,”
said the prince. “But even more important, you will never need any other garments. These will last forever.”

“Oh, thank you,” cried the beggar dropping to his knees. As he started to leave, he looked back at his former clothes, a pile of dirty rags on the floor. He quickly gathered them up.

The banquet was greater than he had imagined, but he did not enjoy himself as he should. He had made a small bundle of his rags and it kept falling off his lap. As the food was passed around the beggar missed some of the feast’s delicacies.

Time however proved the prince right. The clothes given him by the prince lasted forever.

As time passed people took note of the little bundle of filthy rags that he clung to rather then the royal robes he was wearing. They spoke of him as the old rag man.

One day as he lay dying, the king came to visit him. The beggar saw the sad look on the king’s face when he looked at the small bundle of rags by the bed. He remembered the prince’s words and he wept bitterly at his folly and confessed that not leaving behind his bundle of rags had cost him a lifetime of true royalty.

In compassion the king wept with him.

Each of us has been invited into God’s royal family. To feast at God’s table and all we have to do is shed our old rags and put on the “garments” of faith provided by God’s Son, Jesus.

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Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
September 15, 2014

A young boy had just gotten his driver’s permit and asked his father, an evangelist, if they could discuss his use of the car.

The father took him into his study and said to the boy,

“I’ll make a deal with you, son. You bring your grades up from a C to a B, study your Bible a little, get your hair cut, then we’ll talk about the car.”

Well, the boy thought about that for a moment, and decided that he’d settle for the offer, and they agreed on it.

After about six weeks, the boy came back and again asked his father about using the car.

Again, they went to the study, where his father said,

“Son, I’ve been real proud of you. You’ve brought your grades up, and I’ve observed that you have been studying your Bible, and participating a lot more in the Bible study class on Sunday morning. But, I’m real disappointed, since you haven’t gotten your hair cut.”

The young man paused a moment, and then said,

“You know, dad, I’ve been thinking about that, and I’ve noticed in my studies of the Bible that Samson had long hair, John the Baptist had long hair, Moses had long hair and there’s even a strong argument that Jesus had long hair.”  [The latter is probably not true]

His father replied,

“You’re right, son. Did you also notice that they all walked everywhere they went?”

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