Finally you have to laugh. About yourself, about everything. If you can laugh about yourself, you can laugh about everything. When you can laugh about yourself, you can also forgive yourself. Remember, you got into this mess by not remembering to laugh about this tiny mad idea of separation from everything, from God. So let's have a good laugh. Thank you for any jokes that you want to share.
Watch Who Is Coming to Your Door.
I don't like it when people forward bogus warnings
but here is something I don't want to happen to you.
You might pass this warning on to your people on planet earth:
In case someone comes to your door saying
they are "checking for ticks due to global warming",
and asks you to take your clothes off and dance around with your arms up...
DO NOT DO IT!! IT IS A SCAM!!
They only want to see you naked.
I wish someone had warned me yesterday. I feel so stupid.
Mildred, the church gossip, and self-appointed monitor of the
church's morals, kept sticking her nose into other peoples business.
Several members did not approve of her extra curricular activities,
but feared her enough to maintain their silence.
She made a mistake, however, when she accused George, a new member,
of being an alcoholic after she saw his old pickup parked in front
of the town's only bar one afternoon. She emphatically told George
(and several others) that everyone seeing it there would know what he was doing.
George, a man of few words, stared at her for a moment and just
turned and walked away. He didn't explain, defend, or deny.
He said nothing.
Later that evening, George quietly parked his pickup in front of
Mildred's house... walked home... and left it there all night.
You gotta love George.
Last but not least...
Two tall trees, a birch and a beech, are growing in the woods.
A small tree begins to grow between them, and the beech says to the birch,
“Is that a son of a beech or a son of a birch?”
The birch says he cannot tell.
Just then a woodpecker lands on the sapling.
The birch says, “Woodpecker, you are a tree expert.
Can you tell if that is a son of a beech or a son of a birch?”
The woodpecker takes a taste of the small tree. He replies,
“It is neither a son of a beech nor a son of a birch.
It is, however, the best piece of ash I have ever put my pecker in.”
I love this guy. Don't miss out on that one. It is too funny.