Archive for Humor
Guest Post: ABCs of Effective Communication
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A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver. -Proverbs 25:11
B e careful of your thoughts; they could become words at any moment. -Ira Gassen
C ourage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen. Winston Churchill Read More→
A farewell to the 50s
Posted by: | CommentsRev. James L. Snyder
Whoever said, “All good things must come to an end,” knew whereof he spoke. Why is it that something really good goes by so quickly and something really bad hangs around forever, or so it seems.
Let me explain a little bit of what I mean.
When the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, over my vociferous objections, cooks broccoli, the smell stays in the air for months. However, the invigorating aroma of an Apple fritter dissipates in a matter of moments. Except, of course, when I’m trying to eat one behind you know whose back and she can smell it five days before I eat it.
“I don’t smell an Apple fritter do I?” she inquires.
“You’re not eating an apple fritter?” she prods.
“There better not be any apple fritters in this house,” she demands.
My philosophy is simply this, what she can smell can’t hurt me. The only problem is, she can smell, and usually it’s a rat, namely me.
However, if I would pontificate 1/10 of the time about the smell of broccoli in the house I would not have to worry about smelling broccoli in the house. If you know what I mean.
But if it is good, it seems to go by so very quickly. This past week something very good came to a very conclusive end. Through no effort of my own, I concluded the fifth decade of my life. I am just glad that at the conclusion of this decade I was around to see it. What I remember about the 50s is another matter altogether.
As part of the baby boomer generation, another birthday boomed for me. This boom was a very significant one. I have bidden a fond farewell to my 50s. Ah, what a decade that was. It is a very good thing that the 50s come between the 40s and the 60s. Whoever devised this scenario knew something about human nature.
When you are in your 40s, you, for some unknown reason, think you are still in your 20s. Many people in their 40s have bought into the notion that the 40s is the new 20s. Henceforth, most people, usually men, treat their body as if it was a 25-year-old man in perfect health. Now, a 45-year-old body does not have the wisdom to realize that it is no longer 25. And so you have men in their 40s running and jumping and doing things that their body thinks it can do but it really can’t.
A body in the 40s is not mature enough for pain to register. In fact, no man in his 40s would acknowledge the fact that he has the pain. His wife, contrariwise, acknowledges the pain in her life. But that’s another story.
Once a man gets into his 50s, he has matured enough to the fact that he knows there are many things he physically cannot do. He knows, for instance, a 50-something body is not like a 20-something body, therefore, he can begin slacking off on the physical stuff. Although, some 50-something men have not matured enough to understand the significance of the fifth decade.
But in spite of all of that, the 60s have been a wonderful time for me. It is during the 50-something the man accomplishes most of his work. During his 40s, he is trying to pretend he is still in his 20s, but by the time he hits that magic 50, he is more interested in accomplishing things in his career. Work is very important at this phase of life.
And work he does, because at this stage he has a mortgage, a family and bills coming out both his back pockets faster than it goes in. If he has children, he enters the 50s with several teenagers in the house and maybe some grandchildren. This is enough to drive any man to work, if not crazy. For any man to conclude the fifth decade without permanent residence in the Looney farm is quite an accomplishment.
By the mid-50s, things begin to become all quiet on the Western front. Many people refer to this as the empty nest syndrome. All I can say is, hallelujah for the empty nest syndrome. I just hope some doctor does not come up with a cure for this empty nest syndrome.
The empty nest syndrome is God’s way of saying thank you for bringing up your family. Now, the house is all quiet and when I go to the refrigerator, there is actually something in the refrigerator. Sometimes I just open the refrigerator door and stare at the contents. It is wonderful to go to the refrigerator and actually find something in it you can eat.
It has been a little difficult for me to say farewell to the 50s. I have enjoyed every year of that decade. I am not prepared to say that I am any wiser but I am prepared to say I am older. And my goal in life is to get older and older. Because, when you stop getting older it is all over.
The Bible gives him instructions about getting older.
“The glory of young men is their strength: and the beauty of old men is the grey head” (Proverbs 20:29 KJV).
“The hoary [grey] head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness” (Proverbs 16:31 KJV).
I bid a fond farewell to the 50s. Thanks for the memories.
The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 34472. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail jamessnyder2@att.net. The church web site is www.whatafellowship.com.
The great yard sale conspiracy
Posted by: | CommentsRev. James L. Snyder
Most things in life are not always as they seem. For some reason one person will say one thing and the person hearing will hear something altogether different. This appears to be the case between the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and Yours Truly.
One of the most frequent comments around our residence is, “Did you hear what I just said?”
Of course, that does not really bother me. What does bother me is when I answer in the affirmative, she will reply by saying, “What did I just say?”
It is not that I do not hear what she says; I’m just not listening to what she says. There is a big difference between hearing and listening. I hear many things but I certainly do not pay attention to most of it. If you would listen to most of the stuff said these days, not much of it is worth listening to, at least for long.
This illustrates the basic difference between a husband and wife. A husband always says what he means; but the wife always means what she says. Complication comes when the husband does not understand what she says and it is almost as if they are using a different language or at least a code most husbands are not privy to.
The problem is the most people do not say what they mean.
When someone says they are having a Garage Sale they do not mean they are going to sell their garage. In fact, they do not even mean that they are going to sell things from their garage. What they do mean is they plan to jam their garage full of junk to sell to unsuspecting customers. Most of what sells at a garage sale has nothing whatsoever to do with the garage. In fact, only half of what they are selling can fit into the garage while the rest spills out into the driveway.
The same thing goes with a Yard Sale. When somebody advertises they are going to have a Yard Sale they have no intention whatsoever of selling their yard. What they are going to do is pile their yard full of junk they do not want and sell to customers who will in turn put it in their yard sale next week.
When it comes to Yard Sales, I think there is only a certain amount of items that keep circulating throughout the community.
I once had an easy chair that I did not want anymore and set it out by the street. It was badly broken and I did not have the time to run it over to the dump. By next morning, my chair was gone. Two nights later, it appeared out in front of the house five doors down. The next morning it was gone only to reappear five more doors down two days later. I believe that chair is still circulating through the community.
If people were honest in what they were doing, they would put up a sign that says, “Junk for Sale.” I did see a sign on the thrift store once that said, “We buy junk and sell treasures.”
For some reason people think that, if they buy something at a yard sale it must be a treasure. But the way I think is this, if somebody has something in his or her yard sale to sell at a greatly discounted price how good could it be?
This brings me back to the hearing and listening dilemma. I got up last Friday morning, as usual, and discovered that the other resident of our house was missing. I went to the kitchen and found a little note that said, “Make your own breakfast I’m at our daughter’s yard sale.”
At first, I did not quite get it. Then I remembered sometime during the week there was some mention about a yard sale on Friday. But I was not listening. After all, what in the world do I have to do with a yard sale?
I had a cup of coffee and then went back to the bedroom to get dressed for the day. I went to the closet looking for one of my favorite shirts to wear for the day. I could not find it.
I then tried to find my favorite sneakers I have had for 29 years. It is taken that long just to break them into where they are comfortable to wear. As with my favorite shirt, my shoes were nowhere to be found.
Some books I have had for years were missing along with some other personal items. I was beginning to think we had been robbed. What robber would steal such things? It would have to be a rather desperate person to do that kind of cherry picking during a robbery.
Then a thought grabbed hold of my mind with the ferocity of a mama grizzly. If I recollect correctly, she was talking about these things in the same context as the yard sale at our daughter’s place. She wouldn’t!
Later that afternoon she came home, handed me $3.78, and said, “Here’s your share of the yard sale.”
Not listening to what you are hearing carries an awful price.
The Bible is faithful in warning us, “He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches” (Revelation 3:6 KJV).
God always says what He means and means what He says.
A healthy dose of medicine for the soul
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Rev. James L. Snyder
A large segment of the human population takes things way too seriously for their own good. The strange anomaly is that most people laugh at the wrong thing and fail to laugh at the right thing. This serious incongruity has robbed people of a healthy attitude towards life in general.
Those who take life too seriously are in danger of missing the great joys of living in a crazy world like ours. I am not sure about the scientific research but I would guess that for every sad moment it takes one hundred laughs to balance the books. Some people are about ninety-nine laughs short of a real sane moment.
I like the old English proverb that says, “Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry and you cry alone.”
From my perspective, if you cannot laugh with someone you will not be able to cry with him or her and have it mean anything.
According to some medical advice, it takes more facial muscles and energy to frown than it does to smile. Of course, the only exercise some people have is frowning and who am I to take that away from them.
I am determined, no matter what, to exercise my right to smile and laugh and enjoy the world around me. I must confess that I get this attitude quite honestly.
My paternal grandfather was a Past Master in the area of practical jokes. No amount of time was too much to spend preparing for one of his famous practical jokes. His favorite holiday was April 1 and began preparing for this holiday right after Christmas.
The fact that his practical jokes at times got him into trouble did not seem to affect him at all.
Once while in the hospital for an extended period he had somebody smuggle in to him a can of snuff. For some reason he liked chewing snuff. It is the most disgusting habit I know of on earth.
He no sooner received his smuggled goods then he began chewing it. If you know anything about chewing snuff, you know it is accompanied by a lot of spitting. As usual, his timing was impeccable. Just as the head nurse passed his door and looked in, he leaned over and spit in to the garbage can he had next to his bed. The nurse, not knowing about the chewing snuff, thought he was spitting blood and immediately went into emergency mode. Immediately my grandfather was rushed into the operating room and the surgeon and medical team were assembled.
My grandfather was very sick at the time. Some did not think he would get out of the hospital.
Just as they got him situated in the operating room he pulled from under his sheet his can of chewing snuff and smiled at them. The only person in the room that thought this was in any way amusing was my grandfather. The doctors were so angry with him but they refuse to see him for three days and confiscated his can of chewing snuff.
My aunt and uncle lived right next to my grandfather. My aunt was hyper clean when it came to her house. Dirt in any form was not welcome under her roof. She had a broom that was always within reach because she never knew when a piece of dirt would try to invade her domicile.
That year my grandfather found something new. I am not sure where he found it but he probably spent a lot of time looking for something like this. It was a rubber facsimile of a very nasty looking piece of vomit. To him it was a prized possession.
Most of his practical jokes were executed on April 1. Whenever we saw grandfather coming on this particular day we usually ran for cover.
He went over to visit my aunt and was sitting on the couch in the living room. They chatted for a little while and then my grandfather began to cough a little bit. He said to my aunt, “I haven’t been feeling good lately. I really don’t know what it is.” Then he started to cough a little more seriously, to which, my aunt got up and went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water thinking that might help him.
When she got back, she was shocked to see on her new coffee table a very horrible sight. My grandfather was bent over the coffee table hacking and coughing as though he was in the process of dying. On the coffee table was very nasty looking piece of vomit.
My aunt went into hysterics. She whirled around and within a moment had grabbed her broom and started towards my grandfather. My grandfather was laughing but not for long.
Suddenly he realized that the flailing broom in my aunt’s hand was aimed at him. She chased him out of the house, down the driveway and for at least three blocks yelling obscenities at him that I dare not repeat in public society.
Laughter is the fresh air of the soul. Even the Bible thinks so.
“A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance: but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken” (Proverbs 15:13 KJV). And, my favorite, “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones” (Proverbs 17:22 KJV).
I recommend a healthy dose of medicine for your soul.
The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 34472. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail jamessnyder2@att.net. The church web site is www.whatafellowship.com.
How to make up for lost time
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Rev. James L. Snyder
Have you ever had the feeling that you lost something but could not quite figure out what?
This has been bugging me all week long. It is a good thing I lost my mind years ago or this might cause me to lose it. I remember the day I lost my mind but I cannot remember anything after that date.
All week long, I had this nagging feeling in the back of my head that I had lost something and that it was something rather important. I sat down in my easy chair and tried to think about it but who can think at times like this?
I was looking for whatever it was I lost all through the house. I finally was going through my sock drawer when the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage caught me.
“Did you lose something?”
I was now facing a major dilemma. If I answered in the affirmative, she would inquire as to what I had lost. If I tell her I do not know what I lost, she will immediately respond by saying, how will you know when you find it?
Then I would be treated to one of her sarcastic snickers. You would think after all these years I would become accustomed to such royal treatment.
I finally broke down and confessed, “I don’t know what I lost but I just feel like I’ve lost something this week. I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“Do you remember,” she said thoughtfully, “where you were when you lost whatever you lost?”
I reflected for a moment and then confessed to her that it was last Sunday right after I got up that I sensed I had lost something.
My wife was about ready to leave the room and then she stopped and looked at me and said, “You do remember we lost an hour this week?”
“So,” I said sheepishly as I closed my sock drawer, “I won’t find it among my socks.”
With that mystery solved, I had another one to contemplate. This one probably is bigger than anything else I could ever think of. How can I make up for lost time?
Every year I go through the same rigmarole. No sooner am I adjusted to the time then the government changes that time for me. It is now six o’clock, but no, it’s really five o’clock. Or, is it seven o’clock? How in the world can I ever know what time it actually is?
Thinking along these lines I have come up with several ways in which to make up for lost time.
The first has to do with eating vegetables. In my book, most vegetables are a waste of time. I could make up some time each day by not eating my vegetables, especially broccoli. At the end of the year, I could use that time to eat some Apple fritters.
Another way I could save time is to cut down on my daily exercise. I am not sure who came up with the idea of exercising every day. Just think about what 15 minutes a day would add up to. In one week that would be 105 minutes, in a month it would be up to 455 minutes and in a year it comes to 5460 minutes, which amounts to 91 hours.
In addition, taking a shower everyday may be considered a waste of time by some. Think of the time I could save by cutting down on my shower time. If I would shower, say three times a week, it could save me a lot of time, not to mention soap and towels.
This also has another benefit to it. By only showering three times a week, it will drastically cut down on personal conversations with people. Who wants to talk to someone who has not showered in two days?
As I was contemplating this last one, I came to a brick wall. That brick wall being, my wife. She has this insidious idea of bathing regularly. If it were up to her, I would take three or four showers a day. But my argument is, a person can only be so clean for so long. If God meant us to be clean all the time, why did he make so much dirt?
I remember when my wife was away for two weeks I saved an enormous amount of time by recycling my dishes. After all, I don’t mind eating after me. Those two weeks I used the same silverware, dish and coffee mug for the entire time. And, contrary to my wife’s theories, I lived.
When my good wife found out what I was thinking about, she made a very good point. According to her, I could save an enormous amount of time by not trying to think up ways to save time.
The truth of the matter is, time cannot be saved. It can only be used wisely. The Bible makes this point clear on a number of occasions. “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:” (Ecclesiastes 3:1 KJV).
And, “And that, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed” (Romans 13:11 KJV).
It is how I used time and what I use it for that is important. I have two choices. Waste time or use my time wisely. The choice is mine.
The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 34472. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail jamessnyder2@att.net. The church web site is www.whatafellowship.com.
How to make up for lost time
Rev. James L. Snyder
Have you ever had the feeling that you lost something but could not quite figure out what?
This has been bugging me all week long. It is a good thing I lost my mind years ago or this might cause me to lose it. I remember the day I lost my mind but I cannot remember anything after that date.
All week long, I had this nagging feeling in the back of my head that I had lost something and that it was something rather important. I sat down in my easy chair and tried to think about it but who can think at times like this?
I was looking for whatever it was I lost all through the house. I finally was going through my sock drawer when the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage caught me.
“Did you lose something?”
I was now facing a major dilemma. If I answered in the affirmative, she would inquire as to what I had lost. If I tell her I do not know what I lost, she will immediately respond by saying, how will you know when you find it?
Then I would be treated to one of her sarcastic snickers. You would think after all these years I would become accustomed to such royal treatment.
I finally broke down and confessed, “I don’t know what I lost but I just feel like I’ve lost something this week. I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“Do you remember,” she said thoughtfully, “where you were when you lost whatever you lost?”
I reflected for a moment and then confessed to her that it was last Sunday right after I got up that I sensed I had lost something.
My wife was about ready to leave the room and then she stopped and looked at me and said, “You do remember we lost an hour this week?”
“So,” I said sheepishly as I closed my sock drawer, “I won’t find it among my socks.”
With that mystery solved, I had another one to contemplate. This one probably is bigger than anything else I could ever think of. How can I make up for lost time?
Every year I go through the same rigmarole. No sooner am I adjusted to the time then the government changes that time for me. It is now six o’clock, but no, it’s really five o’clock. Or, is it seven o’clock? How in the world can I ever know what time it actually is?
Thinking along these lines I have come up with several ways in which to make up for lost time.
The first has to do with eating vegetables. In my book, most vegetables are a waste of time. I could make up some time each day by not eating my vegetables, especially broccoli. At the end of the year, I could use that time to eat some Apple fritters.
Another way I could save time is to cut down on my daily exercise. I am not sure who came up with the idea of exercising every day. Just think about what 15 minutes a day would add up to. In one week that would be 105 minutes, in a month it would be up to 455 minutes and in a year it comes to 5460 minutes, which amounts to 91 hours.
In addition, taking a shower everyday may be considered a waste of time by some. Think of the time I could save by cutting down on my shower time. If I would shower, say three times a week, it could save me a lot of time, not to mention soap and towels.
This also has another benefit to it. By only showering three times a week, it will drastically cut down on personal conversations with people. Who wants to talk to someone who has not showered in two days?
As I was contemplating this last one, I came to a brick wall. That brick wall being, my wife. She has this insidious idea of bathing regularly. If it were up to her, I would take three or four showers a day. But my argument is, a person can only be so clean for so long. If God meant us to be clean all the time, why did he make so much dirt?
I remember when my wife was away for two weeks I saved an enormous amount of time by recycling my dishes. After all, I don’t mind eating after me. Those two weeks I used the same silverware, dish and coffee mug for the entire time. And, contrary to my wife’s theories, I lived.
When my good wife found out what I was thinking about, she made a very good point. According to her, I could save an enormous amount of time by not trying to think up ways to save time.
The truth of the matter is, time cannot be saved. It can only be used wisely. The Bible makes this point clear on a number of occasions. “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:” (Ecclesiastes 3:1 KJV).
And, “And that, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed” (Romans 13:11 KJV).
It is how I used time and what I use it for that is important. I have two choices. Waste time or use my time wisely. The choice is mine.
The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 34472. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail jamessnyder2@att.net. The church web site is www.whatafellowship.com.
Everything Old is Getting Older Still
Posted by: | CommentsRev. James L. Snyder
A friend of mine has a saying, “I’m going to get as old as I possibly can get.” From what I can tell, he has. I must agree with his sentiment. Of course, the alternative is. well you know. Another friend of mine likes to tell me, “Brother, you’re only as old as you feel.” I am not sure how old feels or if wrinkles are involved. But, I am feeling quite fine, thank you.
Just the other day the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage came in from her workshop, sat down on the couch and said, “Whew, I feel like a hundred.”
At the time, I did not know if she was talking about dollars, pounds or years. Being the old fogey that I am, I know there are times when silence is golden and this was one of those golden moments. But, what does a hundred
feel like? Is there some special sensation that pulsates through the body when a person reaches that age level? Or, is it the absence of anything pulsating through your body?
Just this morning I got up with a sore knee and could hardly walk to the bathroom. I complained about it to my wife, who has no compunction about expressing her opinions, said, “Well, you are older than when you went to bed last night.”
I did not know I was aging so rapidly. If this keeps up, I will change from an old fogey into an old geezer before I know it. The difference between an old fogey and an old geezer is, an old fogey walks around in a fog while the
old geezer cannot get up from his chair and wheezes a lot.
I was musing on the idea that getting old was a lot of trouble with a lot of pain involved. Then I remembered what a lot of trouble and pain it was to be young. As a youngster, I thought many times, “Oh, I can’t wait to get old.”
I thought getting older was the panacea for all of my problems.
I remember thinking that when I got older nobody would boss me around. I would do whatever I wanted to do whenever I wanted to do it. I could not wait for that time to come. I dreamed of that mystical land. No parents to
boss me around; no teachers to tell me what to do and when to do it; no siblings interfering with my plans for the day. What a life I would lead when I got older. I lived each day hoping to get older which, in my thinking, was the door into that area.
Just as I was entering that mysterious realm of being my own boss, I got married. Not only that, but several years into that marital bliss came the pitter-patter of little feet in the hallway. I did not figure that getting older would involve so many people in my life. Just going to the bathroom, for example, was a three-day wait. And, guess who is at the bottom of the list?
I guess you know you have gotten old when you give up the idyllic idea of being your own boss, doing whatever you want to do, whenever you want to do it.
Now that I think of it, it was a lot more painful and a lot more troublesome to be young than it is to be old. In fact, there are some marvelous advantages of getting older.
For example, when my wife sends me to the grocery store to get a few things I usually forget something. Now, that I am getting older, I can tell her that I do not remember things as I used to, after all, I’m getting older.
Also, when someone invites me to go out and play what they call senior softball, I can always say, “I would love to, but my knees are acting up now that I’m getting older.”
This process of getting older has drastically improved my social life. Every joke I hear is as if I am hearing it for the very first time. It is amazing.
My wife and I were at a social function not too long ago, and I was having a marvelous time. When we got home, my wife said to me, “You put on a good act tonight.”
“What you mean I put on a good act?”
“You laughed at every joke tonight as if it was the first time you ever heard it.”
I did not have the heart to tell her that it was the first time I heard those jokes. That is what is so marvelous about getting old. You do not have to burden your brain, and all the little gray cells in it, with remembering things. My brain is now free to enjoy the moment. It is wonderful getting older.
When I was younger, it would embarrass me if I forgot something. Of course, I blame that on my parents and teachers who tried to pound into my little head that I needed to remember everything. Now that I am older, I do not
have that burden.
It is good to remember some things. I remembered one of my favorite Bible passages. “Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy
paths” (Proverbs 3:5-6 KJV).
I will never get too old to trust the Lord with all my heart.
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The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 34472. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail
The Amazing Grace of “Do-Over,” The Art of Second Chance
Posted by: | CommentsRev. James L. Snyder
If anybody believes in “do-over,” it is Yours Truly. This stems back to my pre-adult days littered with carefreeness and fun of all sizes and shapes. At that time, my whole life revolved around games. I was part of that unfortunate generation that had to make up their own games, as we were not privileged to have video games, iPods and Blueberries. Although I did enjoy a freshly baked blueberry pie with two scoops of ice cream whenever the opportunity presented itself.
One rule we had in our made-to-order games was quite simple and practical. If anybody fouled up in some way, he had 3 seconds to yell “Do-over.” If the person was able to yell this before anybody else discovered the foul, they had the privilege of doing it all over again. I always thought this a very nice rule and used it quite generously.
Unfortunately, when I became a man (whenever that sad day happened, and my wife is still trying to find out when) I did not put away all of my boyish pranks. The one I carried over into adulthood was this attitude of “do-over.”
It is my personal belief that this philosophy of “do-over” should be incorporated in adult life. I have found many times when I messed up that I wanted to yell “do-over” and fix a problem. If only this could be used in practical everyday living, what a difference it would make.
I remember as a child that whenever this “do-over” was applied to a situation at hand it solved a multitude of problems. Everyone agreed to the terms of “do-over,” which made things go rather smoothly and everybody was happy.
Personally, I think this would solve many problems in our world today. Whoever came up with the idea that you should have just one shot at something? It just does not seem fair to me. As soon as a person knows he has done something wrong, he should be able to yell “do-over,” and correct the problem right there on the spot.
Just the other day I was driving down a very busy street when I happened to get in the wrong lane. It would have been wonderful if I could have just said loudly enough for everybody to hear, “do-over,” then correct the problem. That was an option I did not have at the time.
What actually happened was, the offended driver shouted at me and it was not, “do-over.” For a moment, we were coming at each other head on. Then in all the excitement, he got a little befuddled. He must have been a very religious man because with both hands he pointed towards heaven. In the excitement and the confusion of the moment, he used the wrong fingers. He could have used a “do-over.”
An incident happened to me not too long ago at the grocery store having a large sale on cans of soft drink. There was a pyramid pile up front with the advertised soda. The can I wanted was about halfway up the pyramid and without thinking, which is my modus operandi, I pulled several cans from the middle. As soon as I pulled the cans from the middle it dawned on me what I had done and, more importantly, what was about to happen. If only I could have cried, “do-over,” I could have saved the day.
Needless to say, the day was not saved, and for that matter, neither was I.
One afternoon I came home and much to my delight, I found a freshly baked apple pie on the counter. I have many weaknesses, not the least is a freshly baked apple pie. I am not quite sure what happens when I see a freshly baked pie, but something sinister takes over the reins of my body and I am not responsible for my actions.
The next conscious thing I knew I had just eaten a slice of the marvelously delicious pie topped with two scoops of ice cream. No sooner had I finished that scrumptious slice then who should walk in but the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. One look at her giving me one of her looks and all I wanted to say was, “do-over.”
“You did not eat a piece of that apple pie, did you?”
All I could think of at the moment was, “Do-over.”
“I baked that pie for our neighbor who is sick.”
“Do-over.”
I tried explaining to her that not everything was my fault. If she, so my reasoning mind raved, would not make such delicious apple pies I would not be tempted to eat them.
It was then that she looked at me quite sternly and said, “do-over.”
I was invited to go to my room and think things over. As I turned this over in my mind, it finally dawned on me that God is the creator of the “do-over.” I should have known anything as good as this originated with God. “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9 KJV).
As I gave further thought on this, I begin to realize how wonderful a “do-over” is when God is at the center of it. No matter how big my problem or mistake might be it is never bigger than God’s ability to call out for me “do-over.”
The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 34472. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail jamessnyder2@att.net. The church web site is www.whatafellowship.com.
A New Look at the Old Year
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Rev. James L. Snyder
From a practical standpoint, and if I am anything I am practical, well, practically, this year has gone by rather quickly. The fact I have survived this past year has to count for something.
I was musing on this with the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage just the other day. I was feeling rather comfortable with myself and was congratulating myself on making it through another year. After all, the facts speak for themselves.
“Well,” my wife began rather deliberately, “I guess you did survive the year.”
“What in the world is that supposed to mean,” I queried. I must say I was a little agitated by the tone of her voice. After all, I did survive the year.
It was quiet for a few moments and then she said, “What about your New Year’s resolutions?”
I informed her I was working on a brand-new set of New Year’s resolutions for the coming year. I think it’s rather important to jot down a few things you would like to do, maybe some improvements you would like to make or maybe something I should like to give up for the New Year.
“That’s not what I mean.”
I looked at her quizzically not really understanding what she was talking about.
“What about the New Year’s resolutions for this year.” And she looked at me with one of those looks.
You do not have to hit me with a baseball bat for me to understand what’s going on, although sometimes it does help. To be quite truthful I had not thought of those New Year’s resolutions, well, for the whole year.
“Would you like me to recite the New Year’s resolutions you made last year?”
Oh boy. I saw a news story the other day about people who could remember every day of their life in minute detail. I do not know how that feels, but I do know how it feels to live with someone who can remember every detail of my life.
I have a photographic memory; the problem is I have been out of film for three decades.
It got me to thinking about my New Year’s resolutions for this year. I must say that after looking at this list I did not fare too well.
I had resolved to improve my diet and lose some weight. Fortunately, I did not put down how much weight I proposed to lose. I did lose 1 pound 974 times but it always found its way home. I spent some time in Michigan this past summer and just as I was leaving, I threw a pound out the window and hurried on. By the time I got home to Florida that pound was waiting for me at the front door munching on an Apple fritter. What’s a person to do?
Also, another item on my New Year’s resolution list was, “I resolve not to work harder but smarter this coming year.” At the time, I thought it was a very brilliant thing to say. And, don’t get me wrong, it is.
I have mastered the part of not working harder, but the smarter aspect of that resolution eluded me. Whose definition of smarter should apply here? Certainly, I will not appeal to my wife’s idea about smarter. She has an altogether different concept of this whole area of working smarter.
My only consolation is that my definition of the subject is, it is always smarter not to work harder. If we apply that definition to my New Year’s resolution, I passed with flying colors.
Then my good wife reminded me of another part of my New Year’s resolution. According to her memory, and I am in no position to challenge it, I had resolved to exercise more during the year. At the moment, I exercised my right to object to her memory. But, I lost that one.
The only actual exercise I got this past year was several times I had a runny nose. Believe me, that exercised me to no end, but it was not on track with my wife’s idea of exercise.
At this point of life, I think exercise is blown way out of proportion. I tried to persuade my wife that working my elbow at breakfast and lunchtime as well as suppertime was all the exercise I really needed. She said to me, “When was the last time you saw your feet?”
At the moment, I exercised my right to shut up!
Then it dawned on me. I actually did get my share of exercise in this past year.
I exercised my right to be wrong when confronted by my wife.
I exercised my right to keep quiet when my wife was giving me instructions.
All that exercise may not have helped me lose weight but it helped me gain in my relationship with my wife.
I pondered this for some time and realized that many times it is better to admit you are wrong and save your relationship. Those who have to be right all the time are those who end up never being right. I thought of what the apostle Paul said. “Now therefore there is utterly a fault among you, because ye go to law one with another. Why do ye not rather take wrong? why do ye not rather suffer yourselves to be defrauded?” (1 Corinthians 6:7 KJV).
Sometimes it is better to suffer wrongfully for a good purpose.
The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 34472. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail jamessnyder2@att.net. The church web site is www.whatafellowship.com.
‘Twas the night before Christmas…
Posted by: | CommentsRev. James L. Snyder
Every family has those traditions and days that help define their family. I personally know some families (although I shall not divulge any names unless there is enough cash present) that are adequately defined by April 1. For me, Christmas Eve clearly defines me.
Christmas Eve means many things to me. For one, it means shopping. Yes, it is true; I do all my Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve. It cuts down on the stress. I know some people who spend weeks shopping and their life is full of stress.
Unlike me in many ways, the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage begins her Christmas shopping in January and by August, she is in full shopping spree. There should be a law that any present bought before December cannot be considered a Christmas present.
When the children were still at home, I was just as eager as they were on Christmas morning to see what I had bought them for Christmas. They always appreciated the thought that went into their gift. You did not hear this from me, but sometimes my wife was surprised at the gift as well.
There have been times, and you did not hear it from me, when my wife bought a Christmas present and forgot about it by the time December rolled around. Once, and I will never repeat this, we discovered a cache of Christmas presents in the corner of our garage when we were packing to move. Only Santa really knows how long they were there.
Up to this year, I have successfully eluded such Christmas faux pas. My Christmas Eve starts bright and early in the morning. My first stop is the “Slurp ‘N Burp Café” for a big breakfast. After an early breakfast, it is off to the mall for my Christmas Eve ritual of shopping. I only go to the mall once a year.
It is a tradition with me. My philosophy is, the more torturous the shopping experience the more the recipient will appreciate the gift. For me, nothing is more torturous than a visit at the local shopping mall.
Some go to the mall for pleasure and recreation. I go for penitence.
The average mall is so anti-man that every man enters its doors at his own peril. Many insurance companies have a disclosure, in fine print, in their policies to men making all insurance claims invalid when in a shopping mall.
Shopping malls are deliberately designed to frustrate the male equation of the marital state of mind. Let me list a few observations in this regard: Is it just me, or do they move the mall stores around from year to year just to confuse the average man? Why is it, no matter what door I enter the mall it is never there when I want to leave?
Once inside the mall it only takes me three hours to acclimate myself to the hostile environment. By that time, I am hopeless lost. As I wander aimlessly around the mall, I try to remember why I am there. One of the things on my shopping agenda is a Christmas present for my wife. Although I have had over 38 years experience in this, I am no better off then our first Christmas.
In all those years, I have given her everything from jewelry to perfume to bubble bath. At this stage in my life, I do not know what to get her.
Last year I was tempted to wrap myself and put the box under the tree, but I was afraid I would suffocate by Christmas morning. As I wandered from store to store, I could not find anything to buy for her. I could get her a card with money in it but I’m afraid the check would bounce – and then I would.
If I bought her a dress, I would only be putting my life on the line. If the dress I bought were too small, she would be offended to think I thought she was gaining weight. If the dress I bought was too large – well, you know what that would mean.
If I did not get her something, I would look pretty silly come Christmas morning – I mean sillier than usual.
Wandering in and out of store after store brought me no closer to that gift of all gifts that would say, “I think you’re terrific.”
I was exhausted and about to give up and go home in shameful disgrace. Then, when I was about to give up, there it was. The perfect gift. I could not believe my eyes. I rubbed them in disbelief and loudly exclaimed, “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus after all.”
I wept, I laughed, I burped (musta been the soda). Right before my eyes was the perfect gift for my wife. A gift that said, “Honey, you’re the greatest.” Watching the salesperson carefully wrap my Christmas trophy, I could not help thinking about the real meaning of Christmas.
God searched all of heaven to find that one special gift to tell mankind how much He really loved them. Finding nothing better, He settled on that Gift of all gifts, the Lord Jesus Christ.
“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16 KJV).
My Christmas prayer is that this year you will celebrate with me God’s gift of eternal life in Jesus Christ.
The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 34472. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail jamessnyder2@att.net. The church web site is www.whatafellowship.com.
A Post Thanksgiving Wishbone
Posted by: | CommentsA Post Thanksgiving Wishbone
Rev. James L. Snyder
Now that Thanksgiving is over, I am able to sit back and recoup from the activity. I’m not sure about anybody else, but a holiday such as Thanksgiving takes a lot out of me. Of course, it puts a lot in me, but that’s another story.
The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and Yours Truly were catching our breath right after our Thanksgiving fiesta. I was enjoying the quiet moment when my wife said to me, “Do you know what time it is?”
I glanced at my wrist watch and said, “It’s 8:30 right on the dot.”
My wife threw one of those looks at me I was tempted not to catch and said, “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
This is the problem I have. My wife assumes I know exactly what she’s talking about every time she speaks. To be quite honest, it is a rare day when Yours Truly knows exactly what the wife is talking about whenever she speaks. This might be the reason I get into a little bit of trouble with her every now and then.
She then continued. “What I mean is, do you know what time it is now?”
I was tempted to say, “It’s 8:32,” but I learned my lesson, so I casually asked, “No, what time is it?”
She sighed very deeply and said, “It’s time to get the Christmas decorations down out of the attic and decorate our house for Christmas.”
Upon hearing those words, I immediately froze in my chair. I was hoping this year there would be an appreciative pause between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I must say I’m quite a fan of both holidays and all they represent. However, I certainly would like to get over one before I get into the other.
“You’ll have to go up to the attic and bring down all of our Christmas decoration boxes.”
I do not relish this job. I go into the attic twice a year; once to bring the Christmas decorations down, and once to take them back when Christmas is over. If anybody were to seek my opinion about this whole matter, I would immediately opine that twice a year is two times too many for me.
I don’t like the attic. It is dark and spooky up there. I’m not quite sure who or what inhabits the attic, but I hear some awfully strange noises coming from there on a regular basis, especially in the middle of the night. I’m not suggesting a ghost may be living in our attic, but it hasn’t been proven otherwise.
I do not believe in ghosts, but a person cannot be too careful these days.
If I could have a wish for this time of the year, I think it would be that the next holiday should not begin before the last holiday has sufficiently worn off. I’m not sure if it is my age or what, but these holidays are coming fast and furious. No sooner do you get into the spirit of one holiday when the next holiday is knocking at your door.
I do not think this is too unreasonable a wish. After all, there is a period of three weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas, which I think should be used rather wisely.
Even around our Thanksgiving Day table, everybody was chattering about what they were looking forward to for Christmas. Everybody seemed to be playing old St. Nick and checking his or her Christmas list twice.
I remember as a child we would set up the Christmas tree and all of the decorations on Christmas Eve. Then, New Year’s Day it would all be packed away for another year. That gave us approximately one week to enjoy the Christmas decorations.
I’m almost at the point of saying, Happy Holiday, for the simple reason I’m not quite sure which holiday we are celebrating. Is it Thanksgiving? Or, maybe it’s Christmas? Or, then again, it may be New Year’s Day. Whoever designed these holidays so closely together needs to rethink the strategy here.
Another wish I might have. Holidays should not be an excuse to go shopping. Somebody should pass some kind of congressional bill stating that on holidays people should stay at home. Holidays should be a family affair. It should not be a contest to see who can spend the most money on one day. I know I stand alone on this issue, but I do not mind. It’s my opinion and I’ll keep it to myself, thank you.
The day after Thanksgiving, I heard somebody on the radio singing, “We wish you a Merry Christmas.” I don’t mind being wished a Merry Christmas, but I sure do wish they would wait until Christmas to wish me such pleasantries.
Even Jesus recognized the importance of resting. “And he said unto them, Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest a while: for there were many coming and going, and they had no leisure so much as to eat.” (Mark 6:31 KJV).
Then I heard a certain store in our community was not permitting any of their employees to say to any customer, “Merry Christmas.” To which I, seeing the challenge before me, promptly went to that store, not to buy anything, but to wish everybody I saw “Merry Christmas.” After all, under such circumstances, you can’t start too soon to wish people Merry Christmas.
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The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 34472. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail jamessnyder2@att.net. The church web site is www.whatafellowship.com.