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A man was going to Halloween party one night dressed in a devil’s costume. On the way to the party it started to rain and storm, so he decided to take shelter in the nearest building. Which just happened to be a church where a revival meeting was taking place. As soon as he walked through the door everyone turned around to see who was coming in late. When they saw him, they began to scream and scatter like a covey of quail.
One lady got caught in her pew and fell down in the midst of all the confusion. The man decided to go check on her and make sure she was okay. He slowly made his way over to where she was. With him standing there looking down at her the lady said, "Satan, I’ve been a member of this church for over 30 years, but I want you to know that I’ve really been on your side the whole time!"
"Ideas lose themselves as quickly as quail, and one must wing them the minute they rise out of the grassor they are gone."
Sermon Central Staff
CAN'T CALL HIM A LIAR
During quail season in Georgia, an Atlanta journalist met an old farmer hunting with an ancient pointer at his side. Twice the dog ran rheumatically ahead and pointed. Twice his master fired into the open air. When the journalist saw no birds rise, he asked the farmer for an explanation.
"Shucks," grinned the old man, "I knew there weren't no birds in that grass. Spot's nose ain't what it used to be. But him and me have had some wonderful times together. He's still doing the best he can--and it'd be mighty mean of me to call him a liar at this stage of the game!"
(Source: Bits & Pieces, August 20, 1992, pp. 15-16. From a sermon by Donnie Martin, God's Glory Revealed Through Gideon, 5/29/2010)
“Letting Go of the Branch!” Luke 1:5-15 Key verse(s) 13“But the angel said to him: ‘Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to give him the name John.”
Trusting in God is fine, as long as it is something you believe He can do. It’s funny that sometimes we find ourselves content to let God handle the ordinary things in life like giving us an opportunity to do well on a job interview or score well on a test. But, when it really comes to the hard things, the things that really seem impossible and we have little if any faith that they will ever happen, we are often tempted to trust our own means rather than give the problem up to God. Being content to wait on the Lord for the impossible is something that most Christians just have a hard time doing.
Why are we so reluctant to give God the impossible things and then sit back and wait for an answer? We know that God has done the impossible in the past. He created something from nothing. How impossible can you get? Even the simpler things like parting the waters of the Red Sea and sending manna and quail to His children in the desert were accomplished without so much as a bat of a Holy eyelash. Yet, when it comes to our impossible, the things that have us so stymied that we are at a total loss for a solution, we often find ourselves thinking that we know God could do it, but it seems so far-fetched that He would. So we fight on alone, trusting that somehow luck or pluck will get the job done.
Perhaps it’s just because we might feel we don’t want to bother God with hard tasks. Perhaps it’s because we feel foolish asking for really “big” things. More likely, however, it’s because we have a schedule for things to happen and the hard things, the impossible things, need to be gotten out of the way quickly so that we can move on with our lives. We know that God has a solution for every problem in life. The problem is we often find ourselves reluctant to match our schedules with His timetable. It’s like the man who fell off a cliff, but managed to grab a tree limb on the way down. He looks upward and yells: “Is anyone up there?” Then he hears a voice.
“I am here. I am the Lord. Do you believe me?”
“Yes, Lord, I believe. I really believe,” the man says earnestly. “But I can’t hang on much longer.”
“That’s all right,” is the Lord’s reply. “If you really believe you have nothing to worry about. I will save you. Just let go of the branch.”
A moment of pause, then: “Is anyone else up there?” (adapted--Bits & Pieces, Ju...
FREEING THE QUAIL
At a Farmer’s Market, there was a covey of quail walking around a pole. They had strings attached to their legs and walked in circles hour after hour. A customer purchased the birds and then cut the strings off their legs, giving them their freedom. Yet, in spite of the strings being cut, they continued to walk around the pole in the same circles. They did not know they were free and could go in a new direction. The man had to chase them away from the pole before they understood that they were free.
Have you ever eaten Gumbo Stew from the Gulf of Mexico States or the Low Country around Charleston, South Carolina? If you haven’t you haven missed out on traditional Southern United States quinine that makes your taste buds jump for joy! It’s delicious.
Gumbo is a spicy, hearty stew. It is eaten year round, but in family homes it is found during the colder months because of the extended cooking time required to get it just the way they want it.
There is a secret ingredient that the traditionalist will only use to make Gumbo. It is used to season the whole pot. The secret ingredient penetrates every ingredient to give the Gumbo its wholesome unique taste. Without this item it isn’t Gumbo it’s a counterfeit stew.
We must remember that everything is cooked separately until they are combined in the stemming pot for several hours.
The stock is always as rich as possible, made with whatever complements the type of gumbo. I love seafood Gumbo but I really prefer duck or quail. You roast bones with mirepoix (*) (onions, carrots and celery that have been sautéed in butter). Later it will be added to the water in the simmering pot.
Cook the duck, quail, chicken or seafood and season it with some Cajun sausage and Tasso (Cajun smoked pork).
After everything is cooked and prepared just right take each one of them and place them in the simmering pot. Take the secret ingredient from its special box that is on the very top shelf and put it in the pot. Get the rice ready to be cooked.
During quail season in Georgia, an Atlanta journalist met an old farmer hunting with an ancient pointer at his side. Twice the dog ran ahead as his body ached rheumatism and pointed.
Twice his master fired into the open air. When the journalist saw no birds rise, he asked the farmer for an explanation. "Shucks," grinned the old man, "I knew there weren’t no birds in that grass. Spot’s nose ain’t what it used to be, but him and me, have had some wonderful times together. He’s still doing the best he can -- and it would be mighty mean of me not to encourage him at this stage of the game!"
Bits & Pieces, August 20, 1992, pp. 15-16.
When Judi, Kathryn, Mary and I moved into the new house I began feeding the birds on a regular basis in our yard. The only birds we had at the other house were cactus wrens, quail and doves. We not only have those three but now we have robins, hummingbirds, finches, cardinals, and sparrows. At first, most of the birds were greedy when I fed them. They weren’t sure if there would be enough food to go around. The cactus wrens were especially mean, which shouldn’t surprise anyone familiar with birds. They would attack the robins, cardinals, and sparrows that came to get some food. This situation continued for awhile until one day I saw a change in the bird’s behavior.
After feeding from the unlimited supply that I was furnishing, the birds appeared to be less greedy with the food. They began feeding at their leisure, realizing there would be more food when their current supply was finished. Then, just last week, something even more remarkable happened. After all the hording, greed, and then cautiously enjoying, the birds began to show a more nobler characteristic. They began calling for one another at mealtime and working together for the good of all.
Today, when the seed is there for the birds, one bird will call for the others to share what they’ve discovered. Th...
“Making The Best of The ‘Best’!” 1 Thessalonians 4:15-17 Key verse(s) 15:“According to the Lord’s own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep.”
“I did my best, really!” With tear-streaked face and bit lip, the little boy looked up at his stern-faced father. In his hand he held the remnants of what was supposed to have been a box kite. But, what was supposed to have been a neatly balanced craft of tightly bonded paper, taught string and crisp balsa wood angles was anything but. The little boy thought he could do it. The directions seemed easy enough. All you needed was a scissors and some glue. But, what he now held in his arms didn’t look anything like the picture on the crumpled bit of cellophane laying on the floor beneath his feet. Some of the paper had ripped and nothing was tight. The glue hadn’t dried properly and he had more of it stuck to his finger than to the kite. It was obvious even to the little boy that what he held would probably never fly.
That little boy was me decades ago. My dad had taken me to the Five & Dime downtown and allowed me to buy a real kite, a box kite. While all the other kids had simple kites with a tail, I was determined to have a box kite. I know that he had misgivings about it. My dad was a bit of a kite connoisseur. But, in the end, he had given in. He even chipped in 50¢ to seal the deal. But now I had not only wasted my 25¢, I had wasted my dad’s half dollar. I felt ashamed as I handed the wounded kite to my dad. Luckily for me dads can fix almost anything and it wasn’t long before he and I were standing in Geason’s field behind our house with a shabby but marginally flight-worthy box kite tugging albeit limply from my hand-held line. It wasn’t the kite that was important any more and my dad knew that. That was my “best” on the end of that line and that was all that counted.
Sometimes, when someone has done their best but the best isn’t good enough, it’s best to put ourselves into their problem and, even if we have to “take part of ourselves” to cover their “best” efforts, it’s the right thing to do.
During quail season in Georgia, an Atlanta journalist met an old farmer hunting with an ancient pointer at his side. Twice the dog ran rheumatically ahead and pointed. Twice his master fired into the open air. When the journalist saw no birds rise, he asked the farmer for an explanation. “Shucks,” grinned the old man, “I knew there weren’t no birds in that grass. Spot’s nose ain’t what it used to be but him and me have had some wonderful times together. He’s still doing the best he can -- and it’d be mighty mean of me to call him a liar at this stage of the game...