Monthly Archives: August 2014

Reggie is one of my all-time favorite post on MS&D…. Get a big glass or cup of your favorite beverage and have a good read…. And it’s a long weekend so don’t forget to look through the other 700+ stories… Enjoy, Take Care, and God Bless 🙂 Kenny T

Morning Story and Dilbert

Morning Story and Dilbert Vintage Dilbert
March 10, 2000

–Kleenex Alert—

They told me the big black Lab’s name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen..  The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I’d only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.

But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn’t hurt.  Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie’s advertisement on the local news.  The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn’t look like “Lab people,” whatever that meant.  They must’ve thought I did.

But at first, I thought the…

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Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
August 29, 2009

A holy man was having a conversation with the Lord one day and said. “Lord, I would like to know what Heaven and Hell are like.

The Lord led the holy man to two doors.

He opened one of the doors and the holy man looked in. In the middle of the room was a large round table. In the middle of the table was a large pot of stew, which smelled delicious and made the holy man’s mouth water. The people sitting around the table were thin and sickly. They appeared to be famished. They were holding spoons with very long handles that were strapped to their arms and each found it possible to reach into the pot of stew and take a spoonful.

But because the handle was longer than their arms, they could not get the spoons back into their mouths. The holy man shuddered at the sight of their misery and suffering.

The Lord said, “You have seen Hell.

They went to the next room and opened the door. It was exactly the same as the first one. There was the large round table with the large pot of stew which made the holy man’s mouth water. The people were equipped with the same long-handled spoons, but here the people were well nourished and plump, laughing and talking.

The holy man said, “I don’t understand.”

“It is simple,” said the Lord. “It requires but one skill. You see they have learned the secret to happiness….. feed one another.”

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Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
August 28, 2008

Once upon a time, twin boys were conceived in the womb. Seconds, minutes, hours passed as the two embryonic lives developed. The spark of life grew and each tiny brain began to take shape and form. With the development of their brain came feeling, and with feeling, perception–a perception of surroundings, of each other, and their own lives. They discovered that life was good and they laughed and rejoiced in their hearts.

One said to the other, “We are sure lucky to have been conceived and to have this wonderful world.”

The other chimed in, “Yes, blessed be our mother who gave us life and each other.”

Each of the twins continued to grow and soon their arms and fingers, legs and toes began to take shape. They stretched their bodies and churned and turned in their little world. They explored it and found the life cord which gave them life from their mother’s blood. They were grateful for this new discovery and sang, “How great is the love of our mother–that she shares all she has with us!”

Weeks passed into months and with the advent of each new month, they noticed a change in each other and in themselves.

“We are changing,” one said. “What can it mean?”

“It means,” said the other, “that we are drawing near to birth.”

An unsettling chill crept over the two. They were afraid of birth, for they knew that it meant leaving their wonderful world behind.

Said the one, “Were it up to me, I would live here forever.”

“But we must be born,” said the other. “It has happened to all the others.” Indeed, there was evidence inside the womb that the mother had carried life before theirs. “And I believe that there is life after birth, don’t you?”

“How can there be life after birth?” cried the one. “Do we not shed our life cord and also the blood tissue when we are born? And have you ever talked to anyone that has been born? Has anyone ever re-entered the womb after birth to describe what birth is like? NO!” As he spoke, he fell into despair, and in his despair he moaned, “If the purpose of conception and our growth inside the womb is to end in birth, then truly our life is senseless.” He clutched his precious life cord to his breast and said, “And if this is so, and life is absurd, then there really can be no mothers!”

“But there is a mother,” protested the other. “Who else gave us nourishment? Who else created this world for us?”

“We get our nourishment from this cord–and our world has always been here?” said the one. “And if there is a mother–where is she? Have you ever seen her? Does she ever talk to you? No! We invented the mother when we were young because it satisfied a need in us. It made us feel secure and happy.”

Thus, while the one raved and despaired, the other resign himself to birth and placed his trust in the hands of his mother. Hours turned into days, and days into weeks. And soon it was time. They both knew their birth was at hand, and they both feared what they did not know. As the one was first to be conceived, so he was the first to be born, the other following.

They cried as they were born into the light. The coughed out fluid and gasped the dry air. And when they were sure they had been born, they opened their eyes–seeing life after birth for the very first time. What they saw was the beautiful eyes of their mother, as they were cradled lovingly in her arms. They were home.
“No eye has seen, no ear had heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those

who love him”  1 Corinthians 2:9

By Wayne Rice
Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
August 27, 1997

Slow down; God is still in heaven. You are not responsible for doing it all yourself, right now.

Remember a happy, peaceful time in your past. Rest there. Each moment has richness that takes a lifetime to savor.

Set your own pace. When someone is pushing you, it’s okay to tell them they’re pushing.

Take nothing for granted: watch water flow, the corn grow, the leaves blow, your neighbor mow.

Taste your food. God gives it to delight as well as to nourish.

Notice the sun and the moon as they rise and set. They are remarkable for their steady pattern of movement, not their speed.

Quit planning how you’re going to use what you know, learn, or possess. God’s gifts just are; be grateful and their purpose will be clear.

When you talk with someone, don’t think about what you’ll say next. Thoughts will spring up naturally if you let them.

Talk and play with children. It will bring out the unhurried little person inside you.

Create a place in your home…at your work…in your heart…where you can go for quiet and recollection. You deserve it.

Allow yourself time to be lazy and unproductive. Rest isn’t luxury; it’s a necessity.

Listen to the wind blow. It carries a message of yesterday and tomorrow – and now. NOW counts.

Rest on your laurels. They bring comfort whatever their size, age, or condition.

Talk slower. Talk less. Don’t talk. Communication isn’t measured by words.

Give yourself permission to be late sometimes. Life is for living, not scheduling.

Listen to the song of a bird; the complete song. Music and nature are gifts, but only if you are willing to receive them.

Take time just to think. Action is good and necessary, but it’s fruitful only if we muse, ponder, and mull.

Make time for play – the things you like to do. Whatever your age, your inner child needs re-creation.

Watch and listen to the night sky. It speaks.

Listen to the words you speak, especially in prayer.

Learn to stand back and let others take their turn as leaders. There will always be new opportunities for you to step out in front again.

Divide big jobs into little jobs. If God took six days to create the universe, can you hope to do any better?

When you find yourself rushing and anxious, stop. Ask yourself “WHY?” you are rushing and anxious. The reasons may improve your self-understanding.

Take time to read the Bible. Thoughtful reading is enriching reading.

Direct your life with purposeful choices, not with speed and efficiency. The best musician is one who plays with expression and meaning, not the one who finishes first.

Take a day off alone; make a retreat. You can learn from monks and hermits without becoming one.

Pet a furry friend. You will give and get the gift of now.

Work with your hands. It frees the mind.

Take time to wonder. Without wonder, life is merely existence.

Sit in the dark. It will teach you to see and hear, taste and smell.

Once in a while, turn down the lights, the volume, the throttle, the invitations. Less really can be more.

Let go. Nothing is usually the hardest thing to do – but often it is the best.

Take a walk – but don’t go anywhere. If you walk just to get somewhere, you sacrifice the walking.

Count your friends. If you have one, you are lucky. If you have more, you are blessed. Bless them in return.

Count your blessings – one at a time and slow.

Author Unknown - Please comment if you know the author
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Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
August 25, 2014

I was born with a heart of stone
The hardest of hearts was all I had known
Casting off emotions that welled within
Ignoring them completely with a casual grin
I would keep friends at a distance
Building solid walls in firm resistance
No one could penetrate my heart of stone
I had then found myself cold and alone

I worked on maintaining my wall every day
Sealing up the cracks with mortar and clay
Grounded deep and firm within my soul
With it there I had complete control
I was proud of the great shield I had built
It blinded me from any shame or guilt
Little did I know how lonely I would be
Frigid and dark my heart was within me

When I was most alone inside my heart
I began to crumble and slowly fall apart
My mortar seemed to run dry
No more patching, my wall began to die
The firm foundation started to erode
Brick by brick and load by load
The stone began to chip and break
It was then that life gave one last shake

The wall had fallen and broken to pieces
Then I felt one of the greatest releases
I had worked so hard to build this wall
The greatest release was to see it fall
When it fell, I learned a lesson so great
Life is not built on the things I create
Importance lies in the love that I share
To show everyone that I really do care

That moment I received something new
A heart of flesh and a crisp life view
My heart of stone had been replaced
This gave my soul a brand new taste
A soft heart ready to freely give love
A new spirit; a spirit given from above
Fresh excitement flows like a river
My thanks goes to the great gift Giver

Ezekiel 36:26 I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.

Author Unknown - Please comment if you know the author
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Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
August 25, 2005

“Happy Holidays!” the cheerful Walmart greeter hollered as I breezed through the automatic doors, an elf hat perched merrily on his head. The store was decked out for the season: red garlands strung through the aisles, displays of twinkling lights and plastic Santas, and directly in front of the entrance, a big, tall fir tree, its branches hung with colorful ornaments.

Christmas was approaching rapidly, and all the shoppers around me seemed to be in the spirit. I wished I could be too, but my gift list was one name shorter than it should have been. Dad was gone, and that was all I could think about.

After his doctor diagnosed him with leukemia at the age of 69, he refused to get down. Up until he took his final breaths, he kept smiling, trying to keep us upbeat. He knew he was going to a better place, he said, though he couldn’t imagine any place better than here with us.

“Preston is the happiest person I know,” Dad’s friends often said, and they were right. I couldn’t remember a time when there wasn’t a smile on his face. It came from his generous and giving spirit–he got joy out of helping others, even if he sacrificed some things himself. He had a deep faith in God, and believed the best about people.

Pushing my shopping cart past the greeter and looking down at my list, it was all I could do to keep my composure. I always loved buying gifts for Dad. He got so excited at the shirt or shoes I’d picked out for him. I’d never have that joy again.

I paused in front of the Christmas tree. White tags hung from the branches in between the ornaments. One of those “Angel Trees,” I thought. Shoppers could choose a tag and buy a gift for a child of an inmate, something like that. I started to walk on.

The sign in front caught my eye. “Be a Santa for a Senior.” Huh? I’d never heard of that program. I stopped. Before I knew what I was doing, I reached out and grabbed a tag:

Gift: shirt, size XL; pants, waist 42; and shoes or socks, size 12 – 12 ½.

Senior name: Preston.

I whipped my cart around and headed to Men’s Clothing. I had a gift to buy, for a senior with the same name as my dad–and the same size too!

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