"But I'm tryin, Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd. "


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I promised myself that I would not plunge into religious debate. Rubber-necking, political correctness, music...that's just fine, but when it comes to religion, I'm sure my forehead is permanently sloped from the incessant wall-banging. And then this popped up in my work in-box, and I wanted to post an abridged version in an effort to minimise damage done to anyone reading, but you really should read start to finish to appreciate the speed at which I was pushed that final inch over the edge. * * * * *

This is deep .......... beautifull but deep ......... READ

How To Survive a Drought....Share! (Author of this story is unknown)

It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dry season that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through. Every day, my husband and his brothers would go about the arduous process of trying to get water to the fields. Lately this process had involved taking a truck to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water. But severe rationing had cut everyone off. If we didn't see some rain soon...we would lose everything. It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes. I was in the kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers when I saw my six-year-old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn't walking with the usual carefree abandon of a youth but with a serious purpose. I could only see his back. He was obviously walking with a great effort ... trying to be as still as possible. Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running out again, toward the house. I went back to making sandwiches; thinking that whatever task he had been doing was completed. Moments later, however, he was once again walking in that slow purposeful stride toward the woods. This activity went on for an hour: walk carefully to the woods, run back to the house. Finally I couldn't take it any longer and I crept out of the house and followed him on his journey (being very careful not to be seen...as he was obviously doing important work and didn't need his Mommy checking up on him). He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked, being very careful not to spill the water he held in them ... maybe two or three tablespoons were held in his tiny hands. I sneaked close as he went into the woods. Branches and thorns slapped his little face, but he did not try to avoid them. He had a much higher purpose. As I leaned in to spy on him, I saw the most amazing sight. Several large deer loomed in front of him. Billy walked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get away. A huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But the buck did not threaten him...he didn't even move as Billy knelt down. And I saw a tiny fawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering from dehydration and heat exhaustion, lift its head with great effort to lap up the water cupped in my beautiful boy's hand. When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I hid behind a tree. I followed him back to the house to a spigot to which we had shut off the water. Billy opened it all the way up and a small trickle began to creep out. He knelt there, letting the drip, drip slowly fill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little back. And it came clear to me: The trouble he had gotten into for playing with the hose the week before. The lecture he had received about the importance of not wasting water. The reason he didn't ask me to help him. It took almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands. When he stood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His little eyes just filled with tears. "I'm not wasting," was all he said. As he began his walk, I joined him...with a small pot of water from the kitchen. I let him tend to the fawn. I stayed away. It was his job. I stood on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I have ever known working so hard to save another life. As the tears that rolled down my face began to hit the ground, they were suddenly joined by other drops...and more drops...and more. I looked up at the sky. It was as if God, himself, was weeping with pride. Some will probably say that this was all just a huge coincidence. That miracles don't really exist. That it was bound to rain sometime. And I can't argue with that... I'm not going to try. All I can say is that the rain that came that day saved our farm...just like the actions of one little boy saved another. I don't know if anyone will read this...but I had to send it out. To honor the memory of my beautiful Billy, who was taken from me much too soon.. But not before showing me the true face of God, in a little, sunburned body. THAT'S GOD ~* Have you ever been just sitting there and all of a sudden you feel like doing something nice for someone you care for. . . THAT'S GOD. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Have you ever been down and out and nobody seems to be around for you to talk to.... THAT'S GOD .. . . He wants you to talk to Him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Have you ever been thinking about somebody that you haven't seen in a long time and then next thing you know you see them or receive a phone call from them. . THAT'S GOD ... there is no such thing as coincidence. Have you ever been in a situation and you had no clue how it is going to get better, but now you look back on it. . . THAT'S GOD. ....... He passes us through tribulation to see a brighter day. . ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ DO YOU THINK THAT THIS E-MAIL WAS ACCIDENTALLY SENT TO YOU? NOPE! I was thinking of You! Please pass this along and share the Power of God. In all that we do, we should totally give HIM thanks and our blessings will continue to multiply This message was sent to me by a close friend so please pass it on to all of your good friends. NOW THAT'S GOD!!!!!!!! Don't tell GOD how big your storm is... Tell the storm how big your GOD is!

Amen and amen!

* * * * * Now just to give you some background, I come from a very religious family and studied Theology for a year, so I am fairly well versed in Christian literature and dogma. But as hard as I try, I cannot recall anything about bombarding other people's email with fictitious stories of miracles and so called 'inspirational stories'. Let's try and figure out how this goes now.....hmmm....I read this and feel good about myself and the wonderful person I am and my spiritual life.......for God's sake people (and I'm not taking His name in vain, I really mean it), wake up! Everything about Christianity that makes any sort of sense does not revolve around living a life of comfort and leisure, being generous when I choose to be and perfecting the art of a condescending tone. And for those who may have taken offence, in the words of Barry from 'High Fidelity" "God. Do you even know your daughter? There's no way she likes that song. Oop, is she in a coma?"


9 Responses to “"But I'm tryin, Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd. "”

  1. Blogger the wheel 

    Religious chain letters are the most insidious of all. I'm sure that the people who forward them consider themselves to be religious, or else they wouldn't send them. But considering that the story is almost certainly fiction, isn't it a little less than holy to be forwarding a lie and claiming it as truth?

    Oh well, I try to avoid religious discussions too. Reason and logic seem to have little affect on people who's faith blinds them to reality, so it's hardly ever worth arguing with someone of that persuasion.

    I might have written back to the person, "So where was God when beautiful Billy was taken from his mom 'much too soon?' He'll save a fawn but not a child?" Not because I don't believe in God, but because I'd like to watch the person squirm as he tried to twist his explanation to fit the situation.

  2. Blogger the wheel 

    This is strange. I posted a comment about two hours ago and it still hasn't appeared here. Blogger has been misbehaving the last couple of days. Now I can't remember everything I wrote.

    Religious chain letters are the most insidious of all. I'm sure that the people who forward them consider themselves to be religious, or else they wouldn't have send them. But isn't it a little less than holy to spread around fictional stories and claim they are the truth?

    My father forwarded me one of those recently, along with about fifty other people in his contact list. I hit reply all and told him to quit forwarding spam emails to me.

  3. Blogger the wheel 

    Presto! The original has appeared. I really hate Blogger sometimes.

  4. Blogger Prone Ranger 

    I think we should ask Errol Naidoo for his comment - perhaps he can ask Pastor Paul for comment, oh no, he has backslidden and run to the bible belt of the US of A.

    Pass the valoid, and the immodium.....

  5. Blogger nica 

    Religious debates always pop in my family and they get increasingly heated and irritating. It's hard to take a side, especially when the rest of your family is completely dimwitted when it comes to ANYTHING to do with religion. Mother is from a Ukrainian Orthodox family, who have a different view from Catholics, and share more with the Greek division. Father is a Presbyterian. Niether of them know much about anything, let alone practice, the debates within the two sides of the family came to the result of me and brother not being baptised. But the family steps in with their Christian bullshit when i bring home a Jewish boyfriend, when i go to his home for Chabbat on Fridays.
    I find religious topics of discussion always end up in fighting and try my best to avoid them.
    Changing the subject utterly, because i find it rather strange posting on my own blog, I thought I'd reply your tennis questions here instead:
    ~ Men's champ will be Federer or Safin. (dear gods, please don't be Hewitt)
    ~ Women's champ will be one of the many Russian girls.
    ~ I want Federer, Roddick or Henman to win
    ~ I want Mauresmo or Molik to win.

  6. Blogger forgottenmachine 

    Thanks all for the comments. There are quite a few Christian ladies at work, and I'm always getting some form of religious spam, most I can tolerate, but this latest was just one too many. And I agree with skrambled, I think the obvious fiction of the story was what pissed me of the most...the kid is called Billy and he has 'passed on' in some tragic way...no there is nothing odd about those two facts, there's nothing sinister about manipulation, as long as you do it with a smile and an amen!

  7. Blogger Miguel 

    and where is god in all that. It's strange how people insist in seeing god everywhere like they were chosen instead of fanatics...

  8. Blogger Fence 

    Man religion is plain wierd. And see you can't argue with it because god is mysterious. And no one knows his plan, but everything will be okay... in the end, only problem, no one knows when that end will be.

    Maybe it is my perverse nature, but when religion is thrust upon me I scream to get away, but when people attack religion I get on the defensive. Unless it is the sort of religion that'll ban that spunge bob square pants fella for holding hands and maybe being a gay icon.

  9. Blogger Nome 

    It was really kind of a nice story until this sentence:

    "But not before showing me the true face of God, in a little, sunburned body."

    Why does it have to be God? Why can't it just end with a little boy with a big heart and a life-giving rain shower. If you ask me, it's a story about the power of human kindness and the abundance of nature. It was all a pretty good lesson until they had to bring God into it.

    What petty creatures we are!

    -N

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