Friday, July 6, 2012

I spent the week before my daughter's June wedding
running last-minute trips to the caterer, florist,
tuxedo shop, and the church about forty miles away.

As happy as I was that Patsy was marrying a good
Christian young man, I felt laden with
responsibilities as I watched my budget dwindle .. .

So many details, so many bills, and so little time.
My son Jack was away at college, but he said
he would be there to walk his younger sister down
the aisle, taking the place of his dad who had died
a few years before. He teased Patsy, saying he'd
wanted to give her away since she was about three years old!

To save money, I gathered blossoms from several
friends who had large magnolia trees. Their
luscious, creamy-white blooms and slick green eaves
would make beautiful arrangements against the rich
dark wood inside the church.

After the rehearsal dinner the night before the
wedding, we banked the podium area and choir loft
with magnolias. As we left just before midnight, I
felt tired but satisfied this would be the best
wedding any bride had ever had! The music, the
ceremony, the reception - and especially the
flowers - would be remembered for years.


The big day arrived - the busiest day of my life -
and while her bridesmaids helped Patsy to dress, her
fiancé Tim walked with me to the sanctuary to do a
final check. When we opened the door and felt a
rush of hot air, I almost fainted; and then I saw
them - all the beautiful white flowers were black.
Funeral black. An electrical storm during the night
had knocked out the air conditioning system, and on
that hot summer day, the flowers had wilted and died.

I panicked, knowing I didn't have time to drive back
to our hometown, gather more flowers, and return in
time for the wedding.


Tim turned to me. 'Edna, can you get more flowers?
I'll throw away these dead ones and put fresh
flowers in these arrangements.'

I mumbled, 'Sure,' as he be-bopped down the hall to
put on his cuff links.

Alone in the large sanctuary, I looked up at the
dark wooden beams in the arched ceiling. 'Lord,' I
prayed, 'please help me. I don't know anyone in
this town. Help me find someone willing to give me
flowers - in a hurry!' I scurried out praying for
four things: the blessing of white magnolias,
courage to find them in an unfamiliar yard, safety

from any dog that may bite my leg, and a nice person
who would not get out a shotgun when I asked to cut
his tree to shreds.

As I left the church, I saw magnolia trees in the
distance. I approached a house...No dog in sight..
knocked on the door and an older man answered. So
far so good. No shotgun. When I stated my plea
the man beamed, 'I'd be happy to!'

He climbed a stepladder and cut large boughs and
handed them down to me. Minutes later, as I lifted
the last armload into my car trunk, I said, 'Sir,
you've made the mother of a bride happy today.'
 

No, Ma'am,' he said. 'You don't understand what's
happening here.'

'What?' I asked.

'You see, my wife of sixty-seven years died on
Monday. On Tuesday I received friends at the
funeral home, and on Wednesday . . . He paused. I
saw tears welling up in his eyes. 'On Wednesday I
buried her.' He looked away. 'On Thursday most of
my out-of-town relatives went back home, and on
Friday - yesterday - my children left.'

I nodded.


'This morning,' he continued, 'I was sitting in my
den crying out loud. I miss her so much. For the
last sixteen years, as her health got worse, she
needed me. But now nobody needs me. This morning I
cried, 'Who needs an eighty-six-year-old wore-out
man? Nobody!' I began to cry louder. 'Nobody needs
me!' About that time, you knocked, and said,
'Sir, I need you.'

I stood with my mouth open.

He asked, 'Are you an angel? The way the light shone
around your head into my dark living room...'


I assured him I was no angel.

He smiled. 'Do you know what I was thinking when I
handed you those magnolias?'

'No.'

'I decided I'm needed. My flowers are needed. Why,
I might have a flower ministry! I could give them
to everyone! Some caskets at the funeral home have
no flowers. People need flowers at times like that

and I have lots of them. They're all over the
backyard! I can give them to hospitals, churches -
all sorts of places. You know what I'm going to do?
I'm going to serve the Lord until the day He calls
me home!'

I drove back to the church, filled with wonder. On
Patsy's wedding day, if anyone had asked me to
encourage someone who was hurting, I would have
said, 'Forget it! It's my only daughter's wedding,
for goodness' sake! There is no way I can minister
to anyone today.'


But God found a way. Through dead flowers.
'Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the
way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes
the difference.'

If you have missed knowing me, you have missed nothing.
If you have missed some of my emails, you may have missed a laugh.

But, if you have missed knowing my LORD and SAVIOR, JESUS CHRIST
you have missed everything in the world. !!!!

May God's blessings be upon you.


THIS IS SO TRUE, BEING NEEDED IS SO UPLIFTING TO EACH OF US.

  This story is too beautiful not to send...


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Colonoscopy - Written by Dave Barry

So here's the story.

I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis.

Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner. I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!'

I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America's enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep.

You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons.) Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.

The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose, watery bowel movement may result.' This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.

MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.

After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic.. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.

At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothe s and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.

Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep.. At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this is, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand.. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to be the least appropriate.

'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.

I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that it was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.

ABOUT THE WRITER: Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald. On the subject of Colonoscopies... Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite humorous..... A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies:

1. 'Take it easy, Doc. You're boldly going where no man has gone before!

2. 'Find Amelia Earhart yet?'

3. 'Can you hear me NOW?'

4. 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'

5. 'You know, in Arkansas, we're now legally married.'

6. 'Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?'

7. 'You put your left hand in; you take your left hand out...'

8. 'Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!'

9. 'If your hand doesn't fit, you must quit!

10. 'Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'

11. 'You used to be an executive at Enron, didn't you?'

12. Now I know why I am not gay.'

And the best one of all.

13. 'Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?'



Inspirational Stories

She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room She said: 'How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?' The surgeon said, 'I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it.'

Sally said, 'Why do little children get cancer? Doesn't God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?'

The surgeon asked, 'Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to the university.'

Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to son She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair. 'Would you like a lock of his hair?' the nurse asked. Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.

The mother said, 'It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for Study. He said it might help somebody else. 'I said no at first, but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.' She went on, 'My Jimmy had a heart of gold.. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could.'

Sally walked out of Children's Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car.

The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room.

She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She lay down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.

It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Lying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said :

'Dear Mom,

I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say 'I Love You' . I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do. You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of His pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus, Himself, took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you.. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked: where was He when I needed Him?' 'God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children.

Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool? I have to give God His pen back now He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore the cancer is all gone.. I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore and God couldn't stand to see me hurt so much, either. That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?

Signed with Love from God, Jesus & Me.

When Grandma Goes To Court

When Grandma Goes To Court
Don't Jack With This Lady!