A proposition

An aspiring young lawyer was sitting in her office late Christmas Eve night when Satan appeared before her.

The Devil told her, "I have a proposition for you. You can win every case you try for the rest of your life. Your clients will adore you, your colleagues will stand in awe of you, and you will make embarrassing sums of money. All I want in exchange is your soul, your husband's soul, your children's souls, the souls of your parents, grandparents, and the souls of all your friends and law partners."

The lawyer pondered this, then finally asked: "So, what's the catch?"

Stormy weather

A royal castle was under siege by an army. The only hope was to send one of the knights to get help, but the problem was that all the horses had been killed in the battle.

"We must get help," said the king.

"I know," replied General George, the leader of his army, "but we have no horses. If a knight goes on foot, he will be slain at once."

"Is there not another animal he can ride?" demanded the king. "What about that mighty wolfhound? It could surely bear the weight of a man."

"No, no," pleaded General George. "The wolfhound is too dangerous. Look at its snarling teeth. I wouldn't send a knight out on a dog like this!"

Trouble!

 (A Christmas Joke that always gets me in trouble...but I'm tellin' it anyway!)

Three men died on Christmas Eve and were met by Saint Peter at the pearly gates. St. Peter said, "In honor of the season, you must each possess something that symbolizes Christmas to get into heaven."

The first man fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a lighter. He flicked it on. "It represents a candle," he said.

"You may pass through the pearly gates," St. Peter said.

The second man reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He shook them and said, "They're bells."

St. Peter said, "You may pass through the pearly gates."

The third man started searching desperately through his pockets and finally pulled out a pair of women's panties.

St. Peter looked at the man with a raised eyebrow and asked, "And just what do those symbolize?"

The man replied, "These are Carol's."

Can't drive 55

Alice and Susanna, two lovely ladies in their late 90s, decide to go to the shopping center. As Alice drives down the road, their car rushes through a red stop light. Susanna looks nervously at Kyra as other drivers honk at them.

Then a bit farther down the road, Alice doesn't stop at a stop sign, and they narrowly miss being hit by a truck.

"Alice!" Terry says. "Why are you driving so recklessly?"

"What?!" Alice looks shocked. "I'm driving?! I thought you were!" 

Prepare yourselves

This guy goes into his dentist's office because something is wrong with his mouth.

After a brief examination, the dentist exclaims, "Holy smokes! That plate I installed in your mouth about six months ago has nearly completely corroded! What on earth have you been eating?"

"Well, the only thing I can think of is this: my wife made me some asparagus about four months ago with Hollandaise sauce on it, and it was DELICIOUS! I've never tasted anything like it, and ever since then I've been putting the sauce on everything—meat, meat, fish, toast, vegetables—you name it!"

"That's probably it," replied the dentist. "Hollandaise sauce is made with lemon juice, which is acidic and highly corrosive. I'll have to install a new plate, but made out of chrome this time."

"Why chrome?" the man asked.

"Well, everyone knows that there's no plate like chrome for the Hollandaise!"

Ho-Ho-BANG!

Murder by the Acre 

By Stephen B. Bagley 

The librarian and the reporter are back! This time Bernard and Lisa stumble on the body of a local jeweler and ladies' man in an underground house. As the couple and Chief Donaldson investigate, they find themselves drawn into a confusing mystery of lies and alibis that involves the upper crust of Ryton, Oklahoma.

Questions abound: Who killed him and how? Why doesn't the widow care that her husband is dead? Why doesn’t his mistress? What does the mysterious Aventura Corporation have to do with the murder? What is the corporation hiding? Soon events spiral out of control as the killer strikes again and again.

As the three dig for the truth, they upset powerful, vengeful people. The chief might lose his job, but Bernard and Lisa could lose their lives in this suspenseful sequel to Murder by Dewey Decimal. 

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Lepidopterology

A man wandered into a doctor's office and asked to see Dr. George. The receptionist was hesitant to let him in, especially as it was time to close, but he was insistent. The doctor, having completed all his consultations for the day and in a good mood, agreed to see him.

The man entered in a rather aimless manner and, after some hesitation, flopped into a chair and looked nervously around the room.

"How can I help you?" asked the doctor.

"Well, it's like this," said the man. "I keep thinking I'm a moth."

"What? Did you say you think you're a moth?"

"Yes," the man replied. "I'm convinced that I'm a moth."

"Well, I'm very sorry, but you're in the wrong place. What you need is a psychiatrist."

"That's what I've been thinking," replied the man.

"Well, as it happens, I know just the man," said Dr. George. "I'll give him a call and see if he can schedule an appointment for you."

The man agreed, and the doctor made the appointment.

"Tell me," said the doctor, "it must have been apparent from the sign outside that I'm a general practitioner. So if you already know you need to see a psychiatrist, why did you come in?"

"Well," the man said in a resigned voice, "the door was open and the lights were on...."

Does Martha Stewart know?

Two cannibals meet one day.

The first cannibal says, "You know, I just can't seem to get a tender missionary. I've baked them, I've roasted them, I've stewed them, I've barbecued them, I've tried every sort of marinade. I just cannot seem to get them tender."

The second cannibal asks, "What kind of missionary do you use?"

The other replied, "You know, the ones that hang out at that place at the bend of the river. They have those brown cloaks with a rope around the waist and they're sort of bald on top with a funny ring of hair on their heads."

"Ah, ha!" the second cannibal replies. "No wonder ... those are friars!" 

"Clothed & Happy"

Excerpted from 

Floozy Comes Back

By Stephen B. Bagley

Have you seen that TV show Naked And Afraid on the Discovery Channel? It’s a (so-called) reality show where they drop two total strangers—a man and a woman—into a harsh wilderness environment with only one item apiece. Neither item is clothing.

You might think this is a recipe for hanky-panky or whatever the kids are calling it these days, but after a day or two with the couple being bitten and stung by hordes of hungry insects, sunburning in places the sun really shouldn’t get to, feeling ravenously hungry and desperately thirsty, having their bare skin slashed by vines and plants, limping on feet bleeding from thorns and bruised by rocks—hanky-panky is the last thing on their minds. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn the show is sponsored by the Clothing Manufacturers of America after seeing what clothes and shoes protect us from.

Of course, the Discovery Channel blurs what needs to be blurred; you’ve seen more skin at the beach or the lake. And since these are not supermodels, the skin you do see isn’t skin you’d necessarily want to see—if you can follow that.

“Experts” give them a Survival Rating at the start and end of the show. By choosing to participate in such an insane and life-threatening situation, it’s obvious the participants have the survival skills of deranged lemmings and the intelligence to match. I suspect their family trees are more like telephone poles.

Read more in Floozy Comes Back.

Give the gift of laughter this Christmas with Floozy Comes Back!

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Louder!

A man realized he needed to purchase a hearing aid, but didn't want to spend a lot of money. "How much do they cost?" he asked the salesman.

"Anything from $2 to $2,000."

"Can I see the $2 model?" said the customer.

The salesman put the device around the man's neck, and said: "You just stick this button in your ear and run this little string down into your pocket."

"How does it work?" asked the customer.

"For $2, it doesn't work," said the salesman. "But when people see it on you, they'll talk louder."

Truth & Lies

A minister was walking down the street when he came upon a group of about a dozen boys, all of them between 10 and 12 years of age.

The group had surrounded a dog. Concerned that the boys might be hurting the dog, he went over and asked "What are you doing with that dog?"

One of the boys replied, "This dog is a stray. We all want him, but only one of us can take him home. So we've decided that whoever can tell the biggest lie will get to keep the dog."

"You boys shouldn't be having a contest telling lies!" the minister exclaimed. He then launched into a ten-minute sermon against lying, ending with, "Why, when I was your age, I never told a lie."

There was dead silence for about a minute, then the smallest boy sighed and said, "All right, give him the dog."

FORE!

 After a bad game of golf, a club member was walking to the parking lot to get his car when a policeman stopped him and asked, "Did you tee off on the sixteenth hole about twenty minutes ago?"

"Yes," the golfer responded.

"Did you happen to hook your ball so that it went over the trees and off the course?" the cop asked.

"Yes, I did. How did you know?" the golfer asked.

"Well, your ball flew out onto the highway and crashed through a driver's windshield,” the policeman said. “The car went out of control, crashing into five other cars and a fire truck. The fire truck couldn't make it to the fire, and a building burned down. So what are you going to do about it?"

The golfer thought it over carefully and said, "I think I'll close my stance a little bit, tighten my grip, and lower my right thumb."

Have A Laugh!

Floozy Comes Back

By Stephen B. Bagley

Humorist Stephen B. Bagley returns with a collection of 80 more wild & wacky tales from his decidedly different life. Includes the fan favorites:
Spice Boy, A Tale of Two Goldfish, Tanning My Hide, Kindle the Barbarian, Much Ado About Carbs, Congress & Other Monstrous Things, Work in Your Underwear, Mr. Manners Speaks, The Terrible Truth About Women, and many more!
Don't miss the shocking Story of the Second Thanksgiving and the Pilgram exposé Pillorying: A Spectator Sport! Give the gift of laughter this Christmas with Floozy Comes Back!

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A Word from Our Sponsor

Tales from Bethlehem

By Stephen B. Bagley

You've heard the story a thousand times: glorious angels, lowly shepherds, brightly shining star, three Wise Men, and wee babe in a manger. But have you ever wondered about everyone else in tiny Bethlehem on that marvel of nights? What did they think? What did they do? What would you have done?

In these funny and touching tales, you'll meet a stable boy, a serving girl, an honest spy, an astounding clerk, an empty innkeeper, a mighty ship of the desert, and many others as they share their amazing 

Tales from Bethlehem.

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Little Things

The Saints of Little Things

Let us now praise

the saints of little things,

the cherished saints

of coffee and bright mornings,

hugs from children and grands,

the laughter of our friends,

leftover Halloween candy,

warm blankets fresh from the dryer,

contented purrs from contented cats,

rolly puppies and happy dogs,

songs sang loudly slightly off-key

old TV shows streaming all seasons,

worn jeans and comfortable shoes,

blue skies during the day,

nights filled with stars—

your sweet kiss on my lips.

(Copyright 2022 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved.)

He has a plan

A man who had been in a mental home for some years finally seemed to have improved to the point where he could be released.

The head of the institution decided to interview him first. "Tell me," said the head doctor, "if we release you, what do you intend to do with your life?'

The man said, "I will certainly refrain from making my former mistake. I was a nuclear physicist, you know, and it was the stress of my work in weapons research that helped put me here. If I am released, I shall confine myself to work in pure theory, which will be less difficult and stressful."

"Marvelous," said the head of the institution.

"Or else," ruminated the patient. "I might teach. There is something to be said for spending one's life bringing up a new generation of scientists."

"Absolutely," said the head.

"Then again, I might write. There is a considerable need for books on science for the general public. Or I might even write a novel based on my experiences."

"An interesting possibility," said the head doctor.

"And finally, if none of these things appeals to me, I can always continue to be a teapot."

Necessary

On their 40th wedding anniversary and during the banquet celebrating it, Cynthia Sue was asked to give her friends a brief account of the benefits of a marriage of such a long duration.

Cynthia Sue responds, "Well, I've learned that marriage is the best teacher of all. It teaches you loyalty, forbearance, meekness, self-restraint, forgiveness—and a great many other qualities you wouldn't have needed if you'd stayed single." 

Ouch!

Out bicycling one day with her eight-year-old granddaughter, Joyce got a little wistful. "In ten years," Joyce said, "you'll want to be with your friends and you won't go walking, biking, and swimming with me like you do now."

The granddaughter shrugged. "In ten years you'll be too old to do all those things anyway."

Verify

When Adam stayed out very late for a few nights, Eve became upset. "You're running around with other women," she charged.

"You're being unreasonable," Adam responded. "You're the only woman on earth." The quarrel continued until Adam fell asleep, only to be awakened by someone poking him in the chest.

It was Eve. 

What do you think you're doing?" Adam demanded.

"Counting your ribs," said Eve. 

Swingin' through the trees

Tarzan, the Ape Man, comes home exhausted and falls on the treehouse couch, moaning with his aches and pains.

"Rough day?" asks Jane sympathetically.

He takes a deep breath and replies, “Jane, it's a jungle out there!”

A small misunderstanding

The homeowner was delighted with the way the painter had done all the work on his house. "You did a great job," he said as he handed the man a check. "Also, in order to thank you, here's an extra $80 to take the missus out to dinner and a movie."

Later that night, the doorbell rang and it was the painter. Thinking the man had forgotten something, he asked, "What's the matter? Did you forget something?"

"Nope," replied the painter. "I'm just here to take your missus out to dinner and a movie like you asked."

Stormy weather

One evening during a violent thunderstorm, a mother was tucking her small boy into bed. She was about to turn off the light when he asked with a tremor in his voice, "Mommy, will you sleep with me tonight?"

The mother smiled and gave him a reassuring hug. "I can't, dear," she said. "I have to sleep in Daddy's room."

A long silence was broken at last by a shaken little voice saying, "The big sissy." 

Somethin' to brag about

Shooting the breeze down at the cafe, a trio of veterans ran out of tales of their own heroic exploits and started bragging about their ancestors.

"My great grandfather, at age 13," one declared proudly, "was a drummer boy at Shiloh."

"Mine," boasted another, "went down with Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn."

"I'm the only soldier in my family," said vet number three, "but if my great grandfather was living today, he'd be the most famous man in the world."

"What'd he do?" his friends wanted to know.

"Nothing much. But he would be 165 years old."

A fair joke

A couple went to a fair. The husband, who had never been on an airplane, was fascinated by a stunt plane and asked the pilot how much a ride would cost.

"$20 for 3 minutes," the pilot replied.

"That's too much," said the wife firmly.

The pilot thought for a second and then said, "I'll make you a deal. If you and your husband ride for 3 minutes without uttering a sound, the ride will be free. But if you make any sound at all, you'll have to pay me the $20."

The couple agreed and went for a thrilling ride. After they landed, the pilot said to the wife, "I want to congratulate you for not making a sound. You are a brave woman."

"Maybe so," said the wife, "but I gotta tell ya, I almost screamed when my husband fell out."

The Spice of Life

We have a wide variety of writings in Journeys. It reflects the personalities and interests of the writers. Some might surprise you. They did me! For more info, visit https://prosateurs.blogspot.com

New Anthology Debuts!

Oklahoma—Journeys, a new anthology from the writing group Prosateurs, debuted this September.

"Journeys covers all sorts of travel,” says Stephen B. Bagley, Prosateurs president. “We have actual travel stories to enjoying new recipes to expanding our viewpoints with essays, memoirs, and devotionals as well as tales to let your imagination roam.”

This is the third anthology produced by Prosateurs, following Yule Tidings and Prosateurs: Tales & Truth.

All three anthologies are available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Lulu, and other online retailers. For more information, visit their website at prosateurs.blogspot.com.

Authors featured in Journeys include:

Kathy Akins began writing as a teenager, but her serious pursuit of the craft started when she retired from a 30-year career with the United States Postal Service. She has won several awards with her poetry, articles, and short fiction. Her short stories, memoirs, poetry, and devotionals were published in Blackbirds Third Flight, Prosateurs: Tales & Truth, and Yule Tidings. A love for history, family, and animals touches her everyday life and inspires her story ideas and characters. She lives in Oklahoma and shares her home with miniature longhair dachshunds. She is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, American Christian Fiction Writers, and a founding member of Prosateurs. Visit her website at kathyakins.blogspot.com.

Debbie Anderson wrote the suspense novel Friend or Foe, and recently published Lizzie, a story for pre-teens and young adults. A long-time storyteller, she has written and shared stories since she was a child. The oldest of eight children, she used these stories to entertain her siblings as well for her own enjoyment. She learned the love of travel by going on family vacations and spent eighteen years in the travel industry. As a result, she has been to nearly every state and six countries. She left the travel business after 9/11. Since then she has written business documents such as manuals and procedures for the electronic and oil industries. In addition to writing, she enjoys sewing, quilting, crafts, painting, and spending time with her family, especially her grandchildren. She writes short stories, memoirs, novels, children’s stories, and how-to books. She is a member of Prosateurs, Oklahoma Writers Federation Inc., Ada Writers, and Writing for Fun. Her works have been published in the Creations anthologies, Yule Tiding, Prosateurs: Tales & Truth, and other publications.

Stephen B. Bagley’s latest book is Floozy Comes Back, a collection of humorous essays. He wrote the cozy mysteries Murder by Dewey Decimal and Murder by the Acre. His other books include Tales from Bethlehem, Floozy and Other Stories, and EndlesS. He wrote the full-length plays Murder at the Witch’s Cottage and Two Writers in the Hands of an Angry God and co-wrote Turnabout. His poetry, articles, short stories, and essays have appeared in Yule Tidings, Writer’s Digest, Blackbirds First Flight, Blackbirds Second Flight, Blackbirds Third Flight, ByLine Magazine, Nautilus Magazine, Prosateurs: Tales & Truth, Pontotoc County Chronicles, Tulsa World OKMagazine, Free Star, the Creations anthologies 2012-2015, and other print and online publications. He is a member of Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc., Christian Indie Writers, Real Authors, Forward Motion, and the founding president of Prosateurs. Visit his website at stephenbbagley.blogspot.com.

Wendy Blanton started writing when she learned to string words into sentences. She is the author of The Balphrahn trilogy. The first book, Dawn Before The Dark, is available now. Her short stories and articles have been published in Yule Tidings, Prosateurs: Tales & Truth, Blackbirds First Flight, Blackbirds Second Flight, and Blackbirds Third Flight. Currently, she writes epic fantasy novels and short stories. She served on active duty for the United States Air Force for eight years. She lives in Missouri with her husband and cats. She is a member of Realm Makers Consortium and Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc., and a founding member of Prosateurs. Visit her website at wendyblanton.com.

D.E. Chandler wrote the Nova Wave series, which includes Nova Wave and Bone Silver. Her book Weathered gathers her short stories and poetry in her first collection. Her poem, “Oppenheimer” and short story “One Way Window” won honorable mention and publication in Outside the Lines. Her poem “Carroll After Dark” won first place and publication in a Tulsa Review’s Spring contest issue. Her short story “LiveLash Challenge” was published in Ghostlight Magazine. Her other short stories, poems, photographs, essays, and articles have been published in Yule Tidings, Prosateurs: Tales & Truth, Blackbirds Third Flight, The Green Country Guardian, Sapulpa Herald, and Sapulpa News and Views. She lives with her husband Tom in Oklahoma. She is a member of the Horror Writers Association, Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc., and a founding member of Prosateurs. Visit her website at dechandlerwrites.com.

Heath Stallcup was born in Salinas, California, and relocated to Oklahoma in his teen years. He joined the US Navy and was stationed in Charleston, South Carolina, and Bangor, Washington, shortly after junior college. After his second tour, he attended East Central University, Ada, Oklahoma. He then served ten years with the State of Oklahoma as a Compliance and Enforcement Officer while moonlighting nights and weekends with the local sheriff’s office. He and his wife live in rural Oklahoma. His many books include Whispers of the Past, Forneus Corson, Flags of the Forgotten, Burning Bridges, the Monster Squad, Caldera, Nocturna, and the Hunter series. Visit his website at heathstallcup.com.

Joanne Verbridge was born in Oakland, California, spending her early life experiences in Northern California. Family brought her to Oklahoma where she enjoys writing memoirs and crafting. She works to inspire her young nieces and other youth people to take an interest in storytelling and writing. She is a member of Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc., and a founding member of Prosateurs. Her memoirs, short stories, and articles have been published in newspapers, Yule Tidings, Prosateurs: Tales & Truth, and the Creations anthologies.

In Over Their Heads

Murder by the Acre
By Stephen B. Bagley

The librarian and the reporter are back! This time Bernard and Lisa stumble on the body of a local jeweler and ladies' man in an underground house. As the couple and Chief Donaldson investigate, they find themselves drawn into a confusing mystery of lies and alibis that involves the upper crust of Ryton, Oklahoma. Questions abound: Who killed him and how? Why doesn't the widow care that her husband is dead? Why doesn't his mistress? What does the mysterious Aventura Corporation have to do with the murder? What is the corporation hiding? Soon events spiral out of control as the killer strikes again and again. As the three dig for the truth, they upset powerful, vengeful people. The chief might lose his job, but Bernard and Lisa could lose their lives in this suspenseful sequel to Murder by Dewey Decimal.

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Letter

Dear Fitness Coach,
You just told me that you enjoy exercise with complete sincerity in your voice. Listen, a man who can lie like that should go into politics. You're a natural for Congress.
Sincerely,
Me 

Letter

Dear Fitness Coach,
You just told me that you enjoy exercise with complete sincerity in your voice. Listen, a man who can lie like that should go into politics. You're a natural for Congress.
Sincerely,
Me 

Mothra?

I wanted to share a conversation I had with a friend a while back and happened to think of today. 

We were discussing monster movies and had wandered onto Godzilla® and the other kaiju. Knowing my love for those movies—and I do love them, but not the modern ones that attempt to make it "realistic," since Godzilla is 40 stories high and has radioactive breath so "realistic" shouldn't enter into the conversation—he talked about how Godzilla could represent the judgment of God on mankind for its selfish, destructive ways.

And then he said, "And Jesus, if He was a kaiju, would be Mothra®."

Note this because it doesn't happen often: I had nothing to say. I was too overwhelmed. Or horrified. I haven't worked it out yet. 

"To a Fault"

Whenever something terrible happens, you should always ask yourself, “Is Stephen okay?” If so, then it’s not that terrible. At least not for me, and I’m sure we all agree that’s what’s really important. Naturally, I’m concerned about you, too, and will do anything to help you—as long as I’m not greatly inconvenienced or busy or my favorite shows aren’t on TV. I have to have priorities, which I know you understand because I’m such a high priority for you.

To a judgmental person, it might possibly sound like I’m self-absorbed, but let’s be honest, if you were as awesome as me—if that were even possible, and frankly, it’s not—you’d be self-absorbed, too. I’m definitely marvelous. People are fascinated by me, particularly doctors who want to study me in a specially controlled environment.

From Floozy Comes Back. Copyright 2018 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved.

Available on

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Lulu

and other fine retailers 

and a few not-so-fine.

Shopping Channel Therapy

People wonder why I watch shopping channels sometimes. 

Easy answer: They are filled with enthusiastic and upbeat people ALL THE TIME. 

Think about it. Your social media probably has many bad things on it: political fighting, diet suggestions that make a death march look like fun, recipes with enough fat to lubricate a diesel engine, passive-aggressive backstabbing, thoughtless and cruel memes, etc. 

But none of that shows up on a shopping channel. In fact, if those people mention a problem--like not enough storage space or your hair is so unruly that it's actually causing riots in the streets--they only do so to tell you the solution. 

A solution they will offer you. 

With Affordable Payments and Easy Credit Terms. 

Big Table God

 “Blessed is the man who will eat at the feast in the kingdom of God.” ∽ Luke 14:15

My God is a Big Table God. He has an infinitely-sized table at which everyone is welcome, no matter skin color, ethnicity, looks,  gender, denomination, political bend, environmental views, almost-anything-we-think-divides-us. It’s a huge table filled with good eats, and at this table, people are laughing and talking and sharing and they’re waiting for you.

Some people serve a Tiny Table God. You have to be the correct color, hold the correct political views, and be the correct gender to sit at that table. You have to be biased against the other people, all those who are different from the so-called correct. Your sins have to be the acceptable sins, the ones that they themselves might indulge in. All other people—they must stand by and starve as they watch the acceptable ones gorge themselves. The starving people might protest, but fortunately, a good-sized Bible makes a great club if a person wants to use it like that.

That’s not the Big Table God. 

That’s not my God.

It’s the Tiny Table God.

You might be familiar with the Tiny Table God. He’s vengeful, shallow, bigoted, judgmental, self-righteous, quick-to-anger, and terrible in His fury, the heavy-handed father whose children cringe at His approach. Because we’ve created so many gods in the past, we think this God should conform. He should support who we vote for, shower forgiveness only on those we find worthy, and grant prosperity and good health only to the right people. We loudly preach of His miracles, but in the same breath, we deny His endless grace, boundless mercy, and infinite power. He’s beyond our understanding, and we resent it and attempt to force Him into a box that we can control and understand. Except...God won’t be put into any human box. 

No, he’s a Big Table God.

At His Big Table, you will see all sorts of people, many of whom might surprise you, but all of them are His children. Over there gather the Assembly of God and the Baptists, next to the Methodists and Episcopalians, and they’re sharing countless, marvelous casseroles. The Catholics offer fantastic Mexican and Italian dishes with plenty to share. Must not forget to mention the Latter Day Saints who never let an attendee to a church dinner go hungry. The Greek Orthodox are waving us over for dolma and moussaka. The Asian church folk graciously offer nikuman, pad krapow gai, and sinangag. So many nationalities, so different, but all the same at heart. They’re all part of the church of the Big Table. People are everywhere and sharing everything, including warm hugs and lots of true love. There’s singing and talking and endless introductions to people who are delighted to know the real you.

But of course, you know who’s sitting at the head of the table, the Host of All Creation. He’s smiling and laughing, and He’s waiting for you to join Him. 

He’s beckoning you over.

God is waiting for you.

"For God so loved (you) the world that He gave his one and only Son (Jesus Christ), that whoever believes in Him (you) shall not perish but have eternal life.” ∽ John 3:16.

Come sit at His table.

Cryptic

I hate it when people are cryptic on social media. 

I don't know if I should pray; rob a bank and send money; gather together a village mob, arm them with torches, and storm the castle; or get duct tape, a large plastic bag, and a shovel. 

I need more information, folks!

Better World

Uncommon Wisdom: Cynicism is easy. It's lazy. It's understandable. We have so much that bitterly disappoints us in this world. Why not stop believing? It's easier to feast on despair. 

But...no. 

The things I've accomplished in this life came about by prayers, hard work, and pushing forward. I'm powered by belief. By faith. 

I know many cynical people--and I certainly have my share of dark teatimes of the soul--but the ones who are moving forward have chosen to believe that things can get better and work to make that so even if it's only in a small way.

I want to be one of those who choose a better world. 

Sooner than You Think

 

No Such Thing

A friend visited my house to check on me. Looking around, he said, "Stephen, you have too many books." 

When he woke up with a terrible headache, I helped him to his car. He was stumbling and confused, but I'm sure that will pass in time. #nosuchthingastoomanybooks

Letting Go

A friend of mine is suffering because he had to unFriend and block a former friend for being cruel. This only goes to show that he is a better person than me. 

I recognize that sometimes you have to let someone go—preferably over a huge drop where below a raging river filled with alligators waits. A hard location to find in Oklahoma and so you end up taking the dropee out-of-state, basically paying for their vacation, which is silly and only leads to embarrassing car chases and shoot-outs with the FBI even though they had been told you were basically harmless by their lovely profiler, such a sweet, horribly mistaken woman—if, of course, if I did such things and I don't and didn't and there is no proof so I don't know WHY you keep bringing it up. Drop it!

My point is—and give me a moment while I remember it—yes, my point is sometimes people are just mean and stinky and gross and heartless, and you have to let them go and have no regrets.

Step by Step

Not a great day today. Didn't get as much done as I wanted to, felt bad most of the day, and then heard bad news about a person who is dear to me. On days like this, I find myself looking around for good things, anything happy, little meaningful things, victories of any sort to throw against the bleakness.

I found a few: 
- talked to a couple of friends on the phone, 
- read a few chapters in a good book, 
- did a bit of exercise, 
- got some chores completed, 
- ate Mexican food with a friend, and so on.

As always, life isn’t a gangbuster of awesomeness. Life is what it is: sometimes up, sometimes down, a lot of time in the middle. It’s learning to live in the middle that so many of us find hard. We rise to the occasion when confronting a crisis or an emergency. We behave brilliantly, bravely, and benevolently. But it’s the day-to-day life that’s hard and grinds on us. Most people break at the endlessly getting out of bed each morning to confront life’s little annoyances and battles. That’s what we find tough. That’s how we know if we’re a sprinter or a long-distance runner.

I hope you’re the latter, because sprinters may be fast, but this life is long. It's the ones who can keep going, step by step, mile by mile, day by day, year by year... they finish the race. I hope I’m a long-distance runner.

I try to be. I try to stay busy. I try to keep putting one foot in front of another. Keep my eyes on the road. Don’t get distracted. Don’t lose focus. Don’t lose hope. Don’t lose courage. Don’t fail. Believe, believe, believe.

It’s a lot of pressure, and I think that’s why some people falter. They drink or take drugs or have crazy sex. They cheat on their spouses, neglect their children, and waste their lives on cheap pleasures, seeking thrills to fill the holes in their lives. They think happiness is a destination rather than the journey itself.

It’s learning to take joy in the journey. We have to do that if we’re going to survive and flourish. It’s the secret to happiness, to contentment, and to fulfillment. For some–like me–finding that joy is easier with God’s help. Others choose another path, but finding that path is essential.

It's how we become fully human.

And fully alive.

Step by step.

Broken Cup

“He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds.”—Psalm 147:2

THE JAPANESE PRACTICE AN ART called Kintsugi, which means ‘golden joinery’ or ‘golden repair.’ They take broken pottery and repair it by mending the breakage with glue or lacquer mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. 

The philosophy behind this says there is beauty in the history of a broken piece, that the breakage and the repair enhance the uniqueness of each item. Many times, the repair is stronger and more beautiful than the original material.

“We are all broken,” I once heard a speaker say. He said we should all acknowledge our brokenness. That is true, but it’s not enough to simply be broken; being broken is easy and all too common. It is the healing that is hard, that takes work and commitment. If we want a more abundant life, however, we can’t stay broken. We must seek healing.

Of all the miracles recorded in the Bible, some of the most powerful involved healing of the body and the mind. Jesus Christ wants to heal the damage of this life. He wants to soothe all the pain and sorrow that daily living inflicts on us. We are all broken cups, and He wants to heal our hearts and spirits with His precious mercy and love.

My prayer is that each of us will seek this healing of our hearts. We might be broken, but with His miraculous help, we can be strong, beautiful, and triumphant in our broken places.

 

Inattention

Sometimes you're listening to a person and your mind wanders off because they're blah blah blah and your mind has traveled to 23rd century Mars or maybe to an alternative 18th century England where they have armored blimps...AND THEN you realize they're expecting a response from you and you have NO idea what they were saying and maybe they asked you to do something you absolutely DO NOT want to do, but you don't want to reveal you weren't listening so you yell, "Fire! FIRE!" and run away! 

And when  I say "you," I mean "me."

Karmic

I did a good thing. I stepped outside briefly, and three mosquitoes landed on me. I did the noble thing and helped them back into the Karmic circle of life so that they can be reborn as a higher life form on their journey to Nirvana. 

Yeah, I squashed them.

Making Progress

I made it through today without hitting anyone stupid with a chair. Not even one person! I think it's obvious that my people skills are improving. 

My therapist will be so pleased when he gets back from his breakdown.

Signs

There are always ways you can tell a relationship is over: They move, they get a protective order, they spray you with bacon and drop you in a wilderness filled with wolves, etc. 

These are all subtle signs that the ardor has become an odor.

Don't Cloud the Issue with Facts

 A new entry in my People Are Crazy file: 

I'm discussing a societal problem with a friend. He finally says, "You're impossible to talk to. You just keep bringing up facts. No one cares about facts." 

Seriously, what am I supposed to do with statements like that?

Happy Independence Day!

Happy July 4th!

I hope it's your day to be free of fear, loss, sorrow, and intolerance! 

May laughter sparkle! 

May joy and peace rise in your heart and explode in contentment! 

Hm, I may have taken that metaphor too far, but you know what I mean! 

Your Personal Independence

“If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.” — John 8:36.

As our nation prepares to commemorate July 4th, the day when we celebrate our independence from Great Britain and honor the sacrifices of those who fought and died and lost everything in the battle for freedom, it’s an excellent time to declare our personal independence.

Personal independence? Yes, personal. God wants us—you and me as we are right now in this moment—to be free. He wants us to be free of sin and sorrow. He wants us to be free of prejudice and hate. He wants us to be free of trauma and guilt. He wants us to be free of greed and envy. He wants us to be free!

It’s hard to be free in this world. The media overwhelmingly portrays values that are destructive to our mental and spiritual health. We imitate what we see even though it erodes our morals and faith. Instead of choosing peace and love, we are choosing strife and drama.

The picture of today’s world seems to be grim, but Jesus Christ shows us a better way, a way to be truly free. It is both simple and hard: “And you shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ This is the first commandment. And the second is like, namely this, Thou shall love thy neighbor as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.” – Mark 12:31-32. These are the commandments of true freedom for our lives, our family, our friends, and our nation.

This Independence Day, choose the freedom of God’s mercy and grace and celebrate His love for all His children. Then we will be free indeed.

Dear Lord,
Thank You for the opportunity to be free in love, to receive Your Mercy, and rejoice in Your grace. Amen. 

Where the Rain Falls

Uncommon Wisdom: 

Sometimes no matter how much we hope and pray for something, we don't get it. If we have bought into "magical thinking," then we can't recover because our world is broken. But if we realize the rain falls on both the just and the unjust, then we can survive our defeat and go on.

Move on.

Keep moving on. 

Meaning?

All things are harder than we expect. 

Unless they're easier. 

Or exactly as we expected. 

Don't read this post. It has no real meaning. 

Stop reading, I tell you! 

Stop! 

Why are you still reading this?

Holding onto our lives

We hold onto our lives as hard as we can. Isn't it strange how we say we seek adventure, travel, and new experiences, but will do everything we can to preserve the status quo? Weird creatures we are, as Yoda would put it.

Sometimes our world gets shaken. Sometimes we are forced to confront the unknown. I'd like to think I'd face such a change with my eyes wide open, my body straining against the new wind. But too many times, I've tried to retreat. Tried to preserve what couldn't be preserved. Done it too many times with too many relationships and life situations. I know me too well.

When I was younger and quicker and harsher with my judgments, I used to think it was cowardly to not embrace change. But now that I'm older with too many sins of my own to presume to judge the sins of others and now that I've seen so many changes that definitely weren't for the better, I know that both ways take unflinching courage, dogged stubbornness, and unflagging hope.

Just so you know

Just because I don't argue with you doesn't mean I agree with you. Because I don't fill my timeline with hate, ignorance, and prejudice disguised as political memes or stances, I have found that some people mistakenly think I agree with their particular poison. But I don't.

 
Oh, you have the right to say whatever you want, but I also have the right to research what you say and then discard the parts not based on healthy thought. And if you ask me, I will tell what science, what faith, what the Bible, what compassion, what wisdom says.

 
If you can produce evidence not based on repeating what the hollow news shows say, what Twitter says, what biased internet sites say, what you "just feel in your gut" to be true, then I will adjust my worldview accordingly. But getting louder, getting meaner, getting hateful, just makes my position stronger and harder.

 
Just so you know.

 
And if you think this applies to you, then it does. And I am not sorry. If your friendships and your loves are based on people parroting what you think--and all of us are wrong in some things--then you are a tiny person. You should try to grow. Or not. If you decided to settle down in your journey, at least try to find a place where your mind can roam freely and see the horizon and maybe a bit of what is over it.

Made for More

It always comes down to this: Every second we live is a second closer to death. Most of us prefer to not think about it since it doesn’t seem healthy to dwell on our approaching demise. A few rare (thankfully) individuals focus on death, sometimes to the extreme of choosing to commit murder or suicide or both. But most of us live our lives in the now. No one knows when they’re going to die, which allows us to make some terrible choices since we think we’re going to survive the consequences of our foolishness. Youth makes us immortal, we think.

All religions focus on death, or really the afterlife. It seems inconceivable to us that we won’t survive in some fashion, be it Heaven, Nirvana, or merging with the Cosmic Flow. To think of the earth as a staging area or a practice arena for what comes next helps many of us to find meaning in our lives. Other people choose to hedonistically live for pleasure now. “You only get one life; live it to the fullest.” A slogan that seems to be particularly popular for selling beer and sports cars.

Time overwhelms us. If you think about all those nameless people who went before us and all those who will follow us, you can feel lost in the multitudes. Few of us will achieve the fame to be remembered 100 years from now--not that such remembrance could factor into our lives now because we won’t know if we will be remembered or what we will be remembered for. The vast majority of us will not be remembered here.

You have to shy away from such knowledge, you know. You can’t live your life with eternity peering over your shoulder. The responsibility of living for the future can drain your joy now. There is a balance we should seek between now and eternity, between pleasure and responsibility, and between us and other people. “Moderation in all things,” to quote a very wise man.

Balance. There’s the rub. How to gain it. How to keep it. How to be an adult in a world that celebrates bad behavior. We’re not a society that appreciates good behavior. Bad behavior will get you on a so-called reality show. Bad behavior will get your name in the tabloids. People will know you if you have more money than sense, cheat on your lover, steal money from friends, cuss to shame a sailor, and perform other egregious actions. If you kill yourself later on, well, that’s sad, but you might even get songs written about you and at least one made-for-TV movie on one of the thousands of cable channels.

But we’re made for so much more. We can be a light to our friends. We can be kind to our enemies. We can leave the world a better place than we found it. We can be adult and reasonable and sane and right. Not because there will be a reward for it--because there won’t be--but because it’s the right thing to do. When we humans finally do the right thing because it’s right and not because we’re rewarded for such, then we will have finally at long last grown up.

I hope it’s soon. Don't you?

When the words won't come

So here I am, staring into a blank screen while my muse stares back. He’s in a bad mood. Been in a bad mood for a while now—thirty years or so. Some of my writing friends might be surprised to hear that I have a muse because I don’t talk about him much. I don’t say, “My muse is lazy today.” Or “my muse is not moving me.” I have always said that I can’t have writer’s block because the electric company doesn’t have billing block.

But...and it’s a big but; I cannot lie...sometimes I have nothing to write. Okay, that’s not true. What I have are scraps. Sentences without context. Funny dialogue with no mouths to speak it. Fragments of poems flittering across the room. When this happens, I have an image of a muse—a sullen, cigar-smoking, carb-gobbling, butt-scratching muse—who would favor me with a smirk except he’s too busy watching horse racing on Channel 1007 because he has a Benjamin riding on Blue Whirlaway in the Fifth.

It’s annoying, but I do have ways around him. Maybe you also have a reluctant, annoying, smirking muse. Maybe some of the things I do might help you. In no particular order, they are:

1. Chores. I have discovered one of the quickest ways to jolt my muse into action is housework. It has to be a mindless chore, though. Vacuuming works. Dusting. My body can do the chore with muscle memory while my mind is free to wander places.

2. Music. Fast instrumentals for the most part. No slow, beautiful pieces unless I want to sit down. And nap. I try to make the music match what I’m writing. Upbeat for humor, flowing for nonfiction, mysterious for mysteries, of course. Right now, I’m listening to Bach. I want a nap.

3. Taking a walk. Being away from the computer can often energize me, particularly since I detest walking almost as much as I detest turnips. Walking is good for my health and I have a step goal, but really, I’d rather be carried everywhere by a robot litter.

4. Indulging in fictional slaughter. I kill everyone in my work-in-progress. Raging dinosaurs falling through a rift of time, monstrous comets littering the atmosphere with hungry microorganisms, murderous volcanoes with a grudge against humanity—we know what we did. Or the gentle, sweet grandmother in my story will load her famous Christmas cookies with strychnine to let her family know how she really feels about being stuck in assisted living. Something about the slaughter wakes the characters up as they realize I’m nuts and they had better perform if they want to make it to the last page.

5. Reading craft books. I keep several near my desk so I can grab them when I need to. If I’m not going to write, by Shakespeare’s blue bonnie, I’m going to learn about writing. I also use them to research a particular problem I’m having. Someone else has had the same problem and solved it.

6. Drinking caffeine. Coffee. Tea. And Diet Dr Pepper. Don’t want to be dependent on anything, thank you very much, but sometimes a nice kick in the brain is needed.

7. Changing projects. I typically have two or three projects going on, a couple of nonfiction—have to pay the bills—and a fiction one. A poem or two. I find I can write myself into a hole on one, change to another and write that one into a dark alley, and surprise, surprise, my subconscious has found a rope to throw down to the first one.

8. Talking to fellow writers about writing. Not their lives, which are absolutely engrossing, mind you, but writing. How to handle dialogue tags. The cliché that haunts their work. Which-hunting and well-seekers. Best paragraph they’ve read lately or written. Book that showed them how to solve a plot problem. Struggles they’re having in their writing. How they roped and branded their muse, yee-haw! 

9. Imagining the book is done and I’m being interviewed about the book or article on PBS. Really, this one works for me. I can’t explain it.

10. Acting out the dialogue and the action as much as I can. I stand with my pages and pace around my room. I shout, I plead, I cry, I laugh. Treating my work as a play (movie!) seems to catch the muse’s attention if only because he’s never seen anyone behave that way before.

And sometimes, I write about writing and my struggles to get a few words on the unforgiving screen. Like now. I have three projects waiting, and while two remain stalled, I see a way forward on the third one. So I must go but want to know: What do you do when the words won’t come?