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Vintage Dilbert March 7, 2007

Vintage Dilbert
March 7, 2007

At first I saw God as my observer, my judge, keeping track of the things I did wrong, so as to know whether I merited heaven or hell when I die. He was out there sort of like a president. I recognized his picture when I saw it, but I really didn’t know Him.

But later on, when I met God, it seemed as though life were rather like a bike ride, but it was a tandem bike, and I noticed that God was at the back, helping me pedal.

I don’t know when it was that He suggested that we change places, but life has not been the same since. When I had control I knew the way. It was rather boring, but predictable. It was the shortest distance between two points. But when He took the lead, He knew delightful long cuts, up mountains, and through rocky places at breakneck speeds. It was all I could do to hang on!

Even though it looked like madness, He said, “Pedal!” I worried and was anxious and asked, “Where are you taking me?” He laughed and didn’t answer, and I started to learn to trust. I forgot my boring life and entered into the adventure. And when I’d say, “I’m scared,” He’d lean back and touch my hand.

He took me to people with gifts that I needed; gifts of healing, acceptance and joy. They gave me gifts to take on my journey. And we were off again. He said, “give the gifts away; they’re extra baggage, too much weight.” So I did, to the people we met, and I found that in giving I received, and still our burden was light.

I did not trust Him, at first, in control of my life. I thought He’d wreck it; but He knows bike secrets, knows how to make it bend to take sharp corners, knows how to jump to clear high rocks, knows how to fly to shorten scary passages. And I am learning to shut up and pedal in the strangest places, and I’m beginning to enjoy the view and the cool breeze on my face with God as my delightful constant companion.

And when I’m sure I just can’t do anymore, He just smiles and says,

“Pedal!”

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Remember, "Just Pedal" 
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 Take Care and God Bless :-) Kenny T
Author Unknown - 
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Vintage Dilbert March 1, 2011

Vintage Dilbert
March 1, 2011

Once all the villagers decided to pray for rain. On the day of prayer all the people gathered, but only one boy came with an umbrella.

That’s FAITH

When you throw a baby in the air, she laughs because she knows you will catch her.

That’s TRUST

Every night we go to bed, without any assurance of being alive the next morning but still we set the alarms to wake up.

That’s HOPE

We plan big things for tomorrow in spite of zero knowledge of the future.

That’s CONFIDENCE

We see the world suffering, but still we get married and have children.

That’s LOVE

On an old man’s shirt was written a sentence ‘I am not 80 years old….I am sweet 16 with 64 years experience’

That’s ATTITUDE

 

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Take Care and God Bless :-) Kenny T
Author Unknown - Please comment if you know the author
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Vintage Dilbert February 25,  2014

Vintage Dilbert
February 25, 2014

I showered and shaved, I adjusted my tie.
I got there and sat in a pew just in time.
Bowing my head in prayer, as I closed my eyes,
I saw the shoe of the man next to me touching my own. I sighed.

‘With plenty of room on either side,’
I thought, ‘Why must our soles touch?’
It bothered me, his shoe touching mine.
But it didn’t bother him much.

A prayer began: ‘Our Father.’ I thought,
‘This man with the shoes, has no pride.
‘They’re dusty, worn, and scratched.
‘Even worse, there are holes on the side!’

‘Thank You for blessings,’ the prayer went on.
The shoe man said a quiet ‘Amen.’
I tried to focus on the prayer but my thoughts were on his shoes again.

Aren’t we supposed to look our best when walking through that door?
‘Well, this certainly isn’t it,’ I thought, glancing toward the floor.
Then the prayer was ended and the songs of praise began.
The shoe man was certainly loud, sounding proud as he sang.

His voice lifted the rafters. His hands were raised high.
The Lord could surely hear the shoe man’s voice from the sky.
It was time for the offering and what I threw in was steep.
I watched as the shoe man reached into his pockets so deep.

I saw what was pulled out, what the shoe man put in.
Then I heard a soft ‘clink’ as when silver hits tin.
The sermon really bored me to tears, and that’s no lie.
It was the same for the shoe man, for tears fell from his eyes.

At the end of the service, as is the custom here,
We must greet new visitors and show them all good cheer.
But I felt moved somehow and wanted to meet the shoe man.
So after the closing prayer I reached over and shook his hand.

He was old and his skin was dark and his hair was truly a mess.
But I thanked him for coming, for being our guest.
He said, ‘My name’s Charlie; I’m glad to meet you, my friend.’
There were tears in his eyes but he had a large, wide grin.

‘Let me explain,’ he said, wiping tears from his eyes.
‘I’ve been coming here for months and you’re the first to say ‘Hi.’
‘I know that my appearance is not like all the rest.
‘But I really do try to always look my best.

‘I always clean and polish my shoes before my very long walk.
‘But by the time I get here they’re dirty and dusty, like chalk.’
My heart filled with pain and I swallowed to hide my tears.
As he continued to apologize for daring to sit so near

He said, ‘When I get here I know I must look a sight.’
‘But I thought if I could touch you then maybe our souls might unite.’
I was silent for a moment, knowing whatever was said
Would pale in comparison. I spoke from my heart, not my head.

‘Oh, you’ve touched me,’ I said, ‘And taught me, in part
‘That the best of any man is what is found in his heart.’
The rest, I thought, this shoe man will never know.
Like just how thankful I really am that his dirty old shoe touched my soul.

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I have..... Explore the MS&D achieves 
for over 1000 additional stories... Take Care and God Bless :-) Kenny T
Author Unknown - Please comment if you know the author
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Vintage Dilbert February 21,  2011

Vintage Dilbert
February 21, 2011

Her eyes met mine as she walked down the corridor peering apprehensively into the kennels. I felt her need instantly and knew I had to help her.

I wagged my tail, not too exuberantly, so she wouldn’t be afraid. As she stopped at my kennel I blocked her view from a little accident I had in the back of my cage. I didn’t want her to know that I hadn’t been walked today. Sometimes the overworked shelter keepers get too busy and I didn’t want her to think poorly of them.

As she read my kennel card I hoped that she wouldn’t feel sad about my past. I only have the future to look forward to and want to make a difference in someone’s life.

She got down on her knees and made little kissy sounds at me. I shoved my shoulder and side of my head up against the bars to comfort her. Gentle fingertips caressed my neck; she was desperate for companionship. A tear fell down her cheek and I raised my paw to assure her that all would be well.

Soon my kennel door opened and her smile was so bright that I instantly jumped into her arms.

I would promise to keep her safe.

I would promise to always be by her side.

I would promise to do everything I could to see that radiant smile and sparkle in her eyes.

I was so fortunate that she came down my corridor. So many more are out there who haven’t walked the corridors. So many more to be saved. At least I could save one.

I rescued a human today.

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Take Care and God Bless  :-)  Kenny T
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Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
October 23, 2015

Twas’ 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38
When 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven’s gate.
Their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.
They could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.

They were filled with such joy; they didn’t know what to say.
They remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.
“Where are we?” asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.
“This is heaven” declared a small boy. “We’re spending Christmas at God’s house”.

When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
But Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.

He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.
Then He opened His arms and He called them by name.
And in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring,
Those children all flew into the arms of their King…

And as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,
One small girl turned and looked at Jesus’ face.
And as if He could read all the questions she had,
He gently whispered to her, “I’ll take care of mom and dad.

Then He looked down on earth, the world far below…
He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe…
Then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,
“Let My power and presence re-enter this land!

“May this country be delivered from the hands of fools”
“I’m taking back this nation. I’m taking back the schools!
“Then He and the children stood up without a sound.
“Come now my children let me show you around.

“Excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran…
All displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.
And I heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,
In the midst of this darkness, “I am still the Light.”

 by Cameo Smith
Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
October 16, 2015

Man: God, can I ask You a question?

God: Sure

Man: Promise You won’t get mad …

God: I promise

Man: Why did You let so much stuff happen to me today?

God: What do u mean?

Man: Well, I woke up late

God: Yes

Man: My car took forever to start

God: Okay

Man: at lunch they made my sandwich wrong & I had to wait

God: Hmm

Man: On the way home, my phone went DEAD, just as I picked up a call

God: All right

Man: And on top of it all, when I got home I just wanted to soak my
feet in my new foot massager & relax. BUT it wouldn’t work!!! Nothing
went right today! Why did You do that?

God: Let me see, the death angel was at your bed this morning & I had
to send one of My Angels to battle him for your life. I let you sleep
through that .

Man (humbled): OH

GOD: I didn’t let your car start because there was a drunk driver on
your route that would have hit you if you were on the road.

Man: (ashamed)

God: The first person who made your sandwich today was sick & I didn’t
want you to catch what they have, I knew you couldn’t afford to miss
work.

Man (embarrassed): Okay

God: Your phone went dead because the person that was calling was
going to give false witness about what you said on that call, I didn’t
even let you talk to them so you would be covered.

Man (softly): I see God

God: Oh and that foot mas-sager, it had a shortage that was going to
throw out all of the power in your house tonight. I didn’t think you
wanted to be in the dark.

Man: I’m Sorry God

God: Don’t be sorry,  just learn to Trust Me…. in All things , the Good
& the bad.

Man: I will trust You.

God: And don’t doubt that My plan for your day is Always Better than your plan.

Man: I won’t God. And let me just tell you God, Thank You for Everything today.

God: You’re welcome child. It was just another day being your God and
looking after My Children…

Author unknown - Please comment if you know the author
 so credit can be given
Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
August 17, 1998

Standing in the middle of the gymnasium, I faced the Special Olympics athletes, wall-to-wall bleachers filled with energy and excitement. The incessant chatter and constant movement was interrupted only occasionally when an athlete would break loose and dash across the room. Their enthusiasm could not be stifled – this was their special day.

I was an inexperienced high-school junior. When I signed up to volunteer as a team leader, I had no idea what it would entail. Standing there completely baffled, I surveyed the chaos, wondering how the Games could ever be organized.

As I waited anxiously for my team of girls to be called, a small mob of schoolgirls, wearing matching Special Olympics T-shirts, closed in on me. Each girl had a distinctive gait. Some moved as if they were going to attack me, while others had difficulty putting one foot in front of the other.

One young woman bounced clumsily toward me with such liveliness, gravity seemed to have no effect. Strands of brown hair swayed back and forth in front of her blue eyes with every step, and a huge smile warmed her full, freckled face.

I felt paralyzed as I realized she was headed directly toward me. She stood next to me, placed her arm on my shoulder, and said, “Hi, I’m Jane.”

“Hi, I’m Sandy.”

Then, moving even closer, she said, “Hi, Sandy. I’m Jane.”

Smiling, I asked, “How are you, Jane?”

“Fine,” she said, her gaze focused on my face.

Just then the whistle announced the first event – a basketball – dribbling relay. The girls lined up behind the starting line, ready to dribble the ball to the cone at the other end of the court, and back again.

At the sound of the bell, my first team member picked up the ball and put as much energy as she could into her task. Bounce . . . Catch . . . Step. Bounce . . . Catch . . . Step.
“Come on! You can do it!” I yelled. Bounce . . . Catch . . . Step . . . Smile. Crossing the finish line, she passed the ball to the next girl, who took off. “Go! Go!” I screamed.

Handling the basketball with confidence as she zigzagged down the court and back, she passed the ball to Jane.

“Watch, Sandy. I can do this.” As Jane attempted to dribble, her bouncing gait kept her from controlling the ball. With almost every step, Jane’s foot would kick the ball, sending it flying across the gymnasium.

“You can do it, Jane!” I yelled.

Her smile never faded as she happily retrieved the ball and resumed where she had left off. As if the ball had a mind of its own, it took two more trips across the gymnasium before Jane was back at my side.

“I did good, didn’t I, Sandy?” Jane asked proudly. “Yes, you did fine.”

Then, as if she needed reminding or felt I did, Jane once again placed her arm on my shoulder and declared, “Hi Sandy, I’m Jane.”

“Yes, you are Jane, a wonderful young lady.” I responded, with a reassuring smile. This game continued throughout the other events.

I admired Jane’s zeal and her extraordinary attitude. She faced each challenge optimistically. Nothing fazed her. Nothing could erase the beautiful smile from her face. Each setback seemed to fuel her exuberant joy.

At the end of the day, each athlete received a ribbon. No one on my team came in first – it wasn’t important. The only thing that mattered was a job well-done and contented hearts. These girls were no different than any Olympian in Barcelona or Sydney; they had given their all, and now they looked at their ribbons with as much pride as a gold medalist.

“See! I did good!” Jane announced as she proudly showed me her ribbons.

It was time to go. Jane stood by my side and propped her arm on my shoulder. “Bye, Sandy. I had fun. I did good, didn’t I?”

“You did your best. I am so proud of you,” I answered, looking into her distant eyes.

Digging a piece of folded paper and small pencil from the pocket of her shorts, Jane handed it to me. “Can I have your address, Sandy?” she asked graciously.

“Sure,” I said, jotting it down.

“I could write you and then you could write me, huh? That would be good.”

“Yes, I would like that.”

All but one of the girls walked out of my life. Jane and I continued to communicate through letters and phone calls. We talked about comic books and baby dolls – trivial things to me, but to her, prized possessions.

A year later, as the Special Olympics approached, Jane wrote, “Can you come watch me in the Special Olympics?”

That year, I went as an observer. I stood next to Jane’s mother during the floor-hockey competition. Occasionally I shouted, “Good, Jane, good!”

“I’m glad you came,” her mother said. “You mean so much to my daughter. She talks about you all the time. When she asked if she could invite you, I said yes, but I also told her I didn’t think you would come.”

Looking at her in disbelief, I thought, Why would you assume such a thing? I replied, “Jane and I have developed a close relationship this year. She is my friend, and I’m happy to come.” Pausing for a moment, I smiled and added, “Besides, I love Jane.”

“I know you do, dear,” her mother said. “It’s just that . . . she’s been disappointed so many times before.”

The game ended, and Jane ran over to me. “I did good, didn’t I, Sandy?”

Hugging her, I said, “Yes you did, Jane!” We walked to lunch, arm in arm, and then said our good-byes. That was the last time I saw her. Although we corresponded during most of my college years, the letters eventually stopped.

A few years later, I sent a letter to my special friend. I wanted her to come to my wedding. I pictured her saying, “You did good, Sandy,” cheering me on like I had done for her. Unfortunately, the letter was returned – “No such person at this address.” I felt heartbroken.

Because of Jane, I now find joy in the little things. I know that winning isn’t the only thing that matters. When life sends me in an unexpected direction, I now get right back on course and start again, as I try to wear Jane’s smile.

Every once in a while, I can feel her arm rest on my shoulder as she says, “Hi Sandy, I’m Jane. You did good.”

Sandra J. Bunch
http://www.chickensoup.com 
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