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Jwd
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Username: Jwd

Post Number: 172
Registered: 4-2005


Posted on Wednesday, February 08, 2006 - 9:51 am:   Edit PostDelete PostPrint Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

The Country Minister





As a young minister, I was asked by a funeral director to hold a grave-side service for a homeless man, with no family or friends, who had died while traveling through the area. The funeral was to be held at a cemetery way back in the country, and this man would be the first to be laid to rest there. As I was not familiar with the backwoods area, I became lost; and being a typical man did not stop for directions. I finally arrived an hour late. I saw the backhoe and the crew, who was eating lunch, but the hearse was nowhere in sight. I apologized to the workers for my tardiness, and stepped to the side of the open grave, where I saw the vault lid already in place. I assured the workers I would not hold them long, but this was the proper thing to do. The workers gathered around, still eating their lunch! I poured out my heart and soul.



As I preached the workers began to say "Amen," "Praise the Lord," and "Glory," I preached, and I preached, like I'd never preached before: from Genesis all the way to Revelations. I closed the lengthy service with a prayer and walked to my car. I felt I had done my duty for the homeless man and that the crew would leave with a renewed sense of purpose and dedication, in spite of my tardiness.


As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I overheard one of the workers saying to another, "I ain't never seen anything like this before and I've been putting in septic tanks for twenty years."

JWD
Colleentinker
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Username: Colleentinker

Post Number: 3364
Registered: 12-2003


Posted on Wednesday, February 08, 2006 - 10:23 am:   Edit PostDelete PostPrint Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

Ha! Thanks for making us smile, Jess!

Colleen
Thomas1
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Username: Thomas1

Post Number: 189
Registered: 4-2002


Posted on Wednesday, February 08, 2006 - 11:35 am:   Edit PostDelete PostPrint Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

As long as we are on a roll ...

Three boys are in the school yard bragging about their fathers. The first boy says, "My Dad scribbles a few words on a piece of paper, he calls it a poem, they give him $50."

The second boy says, "That's nothing. My Dad scribbles a few words on a piece of paper, he calls it a song, they give him $100."

The third boy says, "I got you both beat. My Dad scribbles a few words on a piece of paper, he calls it a sermon, and it takes eight people to collect all the money!"

Randyg
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Username: Randyg

Post Number: 106
Registered: 12-2004
Posted on Wednesday, February 08, 2006 - 12:54 pm:   Edit PostDelete PostPrint Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

Jess,

Thank-you for the story. It is good to have you around again.

Randy
Melissa
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Username: Melissa

Post Number: 1280
Registered: 7-2003


Posted on Wednesday, February 08, 2006 - 2:31 pm:   Edit PostDelete PostPrint Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

Both of those were good stories. Thanks Thomas and Jess!
Dd
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Username: Dd

Post Number: 635
Registered: 7-2004
Posted on Wednesday, February 08, 2006 - 3:15 pm:   Edit PostDelete PostPrint Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

Thomas - It is always good to see you here, too. You and JWD are always full of great warmth, insight and wisdom.

Denise

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