Be Still, and Know That I Am God.

When your heart is in turmoil ...

"BE STILL, AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD."

When situations with friends are not what they should be ...

"BE STILL, AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD."

When your work seems to be overwhelming ...

"BE STILL, AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD."

You would think I'd know this by now. I've been born and raised in church. And yet, here I am, trying to take control of everything ... every little thing ... in my life. Situations have arisen recently that I have no control over. When this happens, the verse "BE STILL, AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD" always drifts into my mind -- never as a direct order, but more like a gentle whisper, and yet do I always listen? No. Why is that?? Why is it that I think I have the answer to everything, when in reality ... I have nothing.

To this day, I can honestly say that I still haven't trusted God with everything. I'm dealing with stuff at this point in my life that I never, ever thought I would be dealing with. There's things that have been a certain way for such a long time, that I'm not willing to let them change; not willing to let go. But if I did, I know it would be for my own good. That's a shame because I'm cheating myself out of a deeper walk with Him. And you know, it should be simple. He is my Father. He loves me. I am His child. He always ... always ... has my best interest at heart. He loves me. He will NEVER lead me down the wrong path. He loves me.

I know that I'm not the only one who has issues concerning this. So, I'm asking this question ... Why do we do this?? As children of God, why do we sometimes have problems trusting Him?? Psalms 46:10 - "BE STILL, AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD" is my favorite scripture in the Bible. It speaks to me the most. Why can't we just sit back, take a deep breath, and know that everything is in control ... not in our control, but in HIS control.

"BE STILL, AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD".

Ministry.

The foundation of ministry is character.

The nature of ministry is service.

The motive of ministry is love.

The measure of ministry is sacrifice.

The authority of ministry is submission.

The purpose of ministry is to glorify God.

The tools of ministry is the Word, and a little "knee-ology".

The privilege of ministry is to grow.

The power of ministry is the Holy Spirit.

The model of ministry is Jesus Christ.

The objectives of ministry are: "WIFE":

W-Worship

I-Instruction

F-Fellowship

E-Expression (or Extension or Evangelism)

Margie.

I moved furniture yesterday for my frail, 92-year-old neighbor, Margie. Upon leaving, I hugged her goodbye. She then took my face in her trembling hands and said, "I love ya, honey." That gets me misty-eyed every single time ... can't help it. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for the elderly.

Except for when the issue of Depends comes up. At that point, they're on their own.

Temptation.

When temptation comes, I run to the Father.

Snugglebunny.

I was talking with friends (yes, I have some) the other day about how we like our bedrooms to be (don't worry, this is G-rated). Some like no cover on the bed, some like just a sheet on the bed, some like it warm, some like it cold, some sleep in pajamas, some ... well, never mind ... blah blah.

When I mentioned that I like to sleep under a cover and with the ceiling fan on medium speed, one of my friends said, "Ooooooo I know ... you're a snugglebunny."

I never thought about it, but you know what?? Yes, I am ... I'm a snuggler. Ryan Jones ... Snugglebunny. It fits. It fits well.

One Funeral. One Date.

Today was the funeral for Carlos Nunez. Of course, it was a sad occasion, but it was punctuated with fond memories of him and his life. During the funeral, a baby was crying in the row behind me. I want to make some deep correlation about there being a brand new life directly behind me, while I'm observing the end of another in front of me, but I don't think I'm eloquent enough to make that sound good, so I'll just skip it.

However, during the funeral, someone did become ill and passed out two rows in front of me. My brother, Rick and his wife, Linda were seated in front of the gentleman, and when Rick turned around, he said the man was not breathing and was starting to turn blue. 911 was quickly called, but thank God, the man came to on his own. It was definitely nerve-wracking for a few minutes. A new life behind me ... A possible ending two rows in front of me ... A definite ending a few rows even further.

Afterwards, the lunch was held at the Moose Lodge in Caseyville. I, however, was not aware of that because I was told a couple of days prior by someone (but I'm not mentioning Aunt Ruth's name because that wouldn't be nice), that the lunch was being held at the Caseyville Senior Center on Bunkum Road. Upon arriving at the senior center, I realized (quickly) I was in the wrong place because I had walked into a rockin' bingo tournament going on instead. Well, as "rockin'" as it could get (remember, these are seniors).

I'm not complaining because I won $20 and became the boy toy of one "Myrna Appleby". Myrna is a sweet ole gal who has brandished me with the nickname of "Young Stud". I don't think Myrna even knows my name. I feel like a piece of meat ... maybe a "prime rib", but a piece of meat nonetheless. I'm very impressed with Myrna because she has no need for glasses and has all of her own teeth ... well, except for that one.

Myrna asked me to go out with her next Saturday (hey, at least I'm attractive to someone!!) I told her "I sure would", because honestly, she looks like the type that has a disdain for banks, and therefore probably stashes a fortune under her mattress. I'm sure she'll pay for dinner. And if not, I'll pay because I suspect she won't eat much. If you don't see me around by next Sunday, call the police because that means I had Myrna pegged all wrong ... (haha)

A boy toy ... hmmm, maybe I've found my new calling.

Florida.

My body will be in Florida. My mind will be here.

Chef Ryan at your service!

I think I'm starting a trend here ... At church the other night, Jim Seladis said my Orange Marmalade Meatballs were (direct quote here) "the best he's ever had!!" Wow!!

Then after eating a Blueberry Lemon Cheesecake I made, my Aunt Ruth said (direct quote again) "that was the best thing I ever ate!!" Seriously?? In all your 90 years, THIS is the best thing you've ever eaten?? Really ... this is it??? Not Carlos' burritos?? Not Shirley's chicken and dumplings?? My cheesecake is it?!?!? Wow, I'm honored!!

So, if there's a market for a meatball / cheesecake restaurant, I'm on it!!!

Daydream Believer.

I fell asleep last night with the radio on. Has anyone ever woke up to the song "Daydream Believer" by the Monkees?? I highly recommend it. It was quite enjoyable and a nice way to start the day ...

Infectious.

Today, a girl at work said I was infectious. "Oh Ryan, you're so infectious! ... (giggle giggle giggle)", she said. I just smiled in response, but I thought to myself two things:

1.) "Thanks ... I think."

2.) "Maybe I should get some cream for that."

How do YOU get blessed??

I just posted on my Facebook page that tonight I went to church. Now, for those people who know me, this is not a revelation, because I'm always in church. But tonight, I went to church and actually SAT AND LISTENED. No computer. No distractions. I sat. I listened ... and it was wonderful.

It seems like I'm always in the computer booth at church, which is something I love to do. I did this exact same job at my former church for years and years. I loved doing it then. I love doing it now. I love what I do ... understand?? I love the whole "behind-the-scenes" stuff ... to see the preparation of what goes on to produce wonderful music for the upcoming Sunday ... to hear the instrumentalists say tonight that none of them knew this one particular song, but they all stuck with it, and what seemed to be just a few minutes later, they pretty much had it. Amazing!! To me, all of this just enhances the praise and worship that is to come on Sunday. To know which song the musicians struggled with, then to see that the end result on Sunday is a church full of people worshipping the Lord is a wonderful thing to experience. It has brought me to tears more than once. Man, for a guy I sure do cry a lot ... whatever!!

I'm so jealous of anyone who can play instruments as well as these guys. (I knew I should have kept playing my alto sax!! Crud!!!) And although I'm not an instrumentalist, to feel like I'm part of a team is something that means a lot to me. Oh, and by the way, this is just an off-topic thing ... Last Sunday evening, I sang 4 lines of "How Great Thou Art" for our music minister, Christopher. He said that I had "pipes". That put a smile on my face for the rest of the night. OK, back on topic now ... I stayed behind tonight to watch the praise and worship practice. Did I have to do that?? No. But I've been involved in the behind-the scenes stuff at churches for what seems to be my whole life (since I was born on the front pew that is a distinct possibility), and all of this still fascinates me. I still love it.

After service tonight, I joked with my pastor's wife, Dottie, that I was jealous of her. When she asked me why, I told her because she has had so many years of getting to hear Pastor's wonderful sermons. She literally has had a front-row seat to it all. I think she appreciated me saying that.

But, all of this brings to my mind a question ... When you're a member of church leadership, or part of the staff, or someone in the sound booth, how do you get blessed??

For example, I have a friend, Brian, who recently became a member of our church staff, so the church is now his place of employment. And on Sundays, I see that he's responsible for specific tasks, so Sundays are, in essence, an extension of his work, and I know his mind is often on the things he gets asked to do. So ... how does he get blessed??

I see Pastor Edwards preach wonderful sermons, visit the sick in hospitals, constantly reaching out to his congregation. I hope he knows how deeply he affects people with the words he speaks. But, to be honest, it's rare that I see people actually pray for him. So ... how does he get blessed?

I came into church last Sunday earlier than normal, and could hear our music minister, Christopher McLellan, practicing at the piano in the prayer room for the upcoming Easter choir musical. Tonight, while people were praying at church, he was at the piano providing some of the music. On Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings, I watch him practicing with the choir before service, and on Sunday mornings and evenings, he's leading the congregation into praise and worship (and doing it quite well, I might add!!! The man can sing and play, like, 237 instruments.) But that's what he's been hired to do. That is his job. He leads, but can he ever actually participate?? There's such a difference in that. In order to do that, I think he would have to fake laryngitis one of these Sundays (there's an idea, Chris!!) :-) But, as I watch him from the sound booth, I sometimes wonder ... how does he get blessed?

Back in the day, I helped get the praise and worship music together for my former church, and to be completely honest ... it was a JOB!!! I know the work that is involved in all of that. I get it. It's different when you love what you do, but nevertheless, it was still extremely time-consuming.

So, I'm asking these questions, but do I have an answer?? Well, I can only speak for myself, but I realize that, for me, the blessing is in the work. Whether they realize it or not, everyone who steps through the doors at my church plays a part in the church service. Whether that part is simply as a spectator who walks in, sits, listens, then leaves. Or as a member of the board. Or as a ridiculously good-looking computer operator (who is getting thinner by the day -- just had to throw that in there).

I believe that as the ones who play a larger role than as a spectator, we are the fortunate ones. We get to serve others. We get to assist in helping people achieve a blessing they may otherwise have not felt prior to walking in the doors. Some may experience an answer to prayer, or a healing, during a church service, and we get to play a part in that, and that is priceless. We are the fortunate ones. Sometimes, in the midst of the work, it's easy to forget that. If you sit back and think about it ... really think about it ... to be able to bless others with the gifts God has given us ... that's what it's all about. We really are the fortunate ones.

I'm told that blogging can be used as a way to express your feelings, so here goes. The vast majority of my postings on this blog have been for comic relief (that kind of mirrors my life to a certain extent), but this one's serious. Something happened tonight that made me realize that things are not going to turn out the way I hoped they would, in a couple of different areas, and it's just tearing me up. Maybe that's way I haven't been sleeping well lately ... I don't know.

This really isn't meant for anyone to understand, it's just somewhat therapeutic for me to finally see these words in black and white. Basically, I need to grow up. I'm always good for a joke or a sarcastic eye-roll, but as funny or as silly as I can be sometimes, I can also be extremely serious, even passionate about specific things ... many things actually. People have turning points in their lives, and I think I'm hitting another one. I'm not sure what I should do about a situation in my life, but it's a big one and I'm not sure how to handle it. I'm not sure why I feel the way I do about certain things and, more importantly, a certain one who's come into my life. This is unlike anything I've ever experienced, and I mean UNLIKE anything I've ever experienced. This is the whole "heart beating faster ... stammering ... losing weight ... just anything to get this person's attention." I thought of this statement the other day ... "I'd travel around the world just to sit by your side and stare at the wall. And it would be OK, as long as I'd be with you." Yep, that pretty much sums it up. (Yikes, I'm sounding more and more like a Hallmark card.) But although there's been a few comments here and there, and some moments of uncertainty, I'm pretty sure this person doesn't feel the same way. I've never done this before, and I'm not actually sure it's the right thing to do. In the end, I'm gonna wind up getting hurt here. It's OK. I'm willing to take that chance. This person is worth it all and even more than that. Dang, don't tell me I'm out of Kleenex ...

Sorry if this is sounding vague or even cryptic. I don't mean for it to. I'm also not going to explain myself, partly because I don't think I can. I guess for a guy I'm pretty in touch with my feelings. I tend to wear them on my sleeve. That may be a mistake because I have huge sleeves sometimes. I think I need to hide my feelings and watch what I say a little better. But that's not really me. I'm just ... I don't know.

I'm goin' to bed. Maybe I'll sleep six straight hours. I hope so. I also hope that maybe I'll wake up as a new person ... new brain, new personality, new everything ... Does that ever really happen, though??

My First Blog ...

I just found my first blog that I typed on Facebook around this time last year, so I thought I would put it on here. This message should have been the first thing I posted on this blog, but oh well ... here it is.

Ryan Jones. Blogger. Two words I never thought would go together. But here I am ... blogging. Wow.

Here's a little bit about me:
I'm oh, about 38, and an absolute St. Louis Cardinals baseball freak. Baseball offseason always puts me in a funk that usually lasts a while. I try to get into hockey, but usually I just end up getting into the latest reality show ("American Idol" is back on!! YESSSSS!!)

I work at A.G. Edwards, uh I mean, Wachovia, wait, that's not right ... ummm, let me think ... uh ... we were Citigroup for four days ... oh yeah, I know ... this month we're Wells Fargo (and hopefully we'll stay like that for a long time). This whole financial identity crisis our company has gone through has definitely been a test for everyone who works there. Due to layoffs, the team that I'm on has been cut from 11 people down to 4. Working with the dark cloud of layoffs hanging over your head for the past couple of years now has all been pretty nerve-wracking, but things seem to have settled down for a while ... at least for this month. We'll see.

But whatever happens, it'll all work out. I've always put my faith in God, and He hasn't let me down yet. Who knows, if I do get laid off someday, I just may fulfill my destiny and become what I've always believed I was called to be ... clubhouse attendant for the Cardinals ("Shine your shoes there, Mr. Pujols??" ... "Cold beverage, Mr. Pujols??")

I can't type my first blog without mentioning my best friend ... my mom, Diane Jones. Unfortunately, she passed away on March 21, 2002. Suffice to say, her death was THE turning point in my life for both some good things and, unfortunately, some not-so-good things. Her death forced me to look at my own life closer than I ever have, and made me face a lot of things that I didn't really want to face. We were there when she stepped out of this life and went on to her reward, and it was the most heart-wrenching, yet beautiful thing I've ever witnessed. I think of her every single day. I was lucky to have been her child.

If any of you have ever lost a parent to a disease -- particularly cancer -- I completely, completely understand the loss you feel. I don't believe that time heals all wounds, but, year after year, time does make things a bit more bearable.

But, life does go on, my dad got remarried and now spends half of the year living in Florida with a wonderful woman named Cathy. I can't say enough good things about her. She's a terrific person who has quickly become someone we love. We are so blessed to have her in our lives ... and she's a great cook, as well. That always seems to work magic on me!!! Put it this way ... I now eat brussel sprouts and I've learned that sloppy joes tastes best with a scoop of cole slaw on top. See what she's done to me?? :-)

I just glanced at the clock - it's 6:30 a.m. and time to leave for work!! Wow, time does go fast on here, huh??

Take care and I'll type at you soon,
Ryan

MOVING DAY!!!!

Today at work, the team I'm on is moving to another floor within Marketing. For the past, oh I don't know ... years, our team has been separated from the rest of the Marketing people, but no longer. We're all now one big, happy, dysfunctional family!! :-)

We're only moving up one floor, but I've taken this time to do a little spring cleaning at work, and I've determined that I have an illness ... an illness that has plagued me since the dawn of my time ... from the time I've been able to grab stuff with my pudgy little infant hand and put stuff somewhere ... it's an illness that I truly believe there is no known cure ... it's called ... packratitis!!!

I've been very hard on myself during this moving process, meaning if I haven't used it since 1992, it's outta here!!! :-) My self-imposed rule is "if I didn't know I even had it, I won't miss it when it's gone." Buuuuuut, some things I have kept simply for sentimental reasons. I am so sentimental it's disgusting. I can find a soft spot in my heart for just about everything. And that is what gets me in trouble sometimes. Gotta let it goooooo!!! I've limited myself to just one box of "sentimental crap" (and I have titled the box as such). Unfortunately, the box is the size of a twin-engine airplane, and that could possibly pose a problem upon moving into my new digs (how big is this new cubicle again???)

Currently, when you walk past my cube, there is no doubt who my favorite baseball team is. For the past five years, my cube has been inundated with a variety of beautifully precious (at least to me) "Cardinals stuff", to the point of being obnoxious. I'm afraid some of that stuff has got to go. For the sake of my new 6th floor neighbor, Clarke, I won't force him to look at all of that. In the immortal words of Ron Burgundy ... "stay classy, San Diego!!"

But on a good note, the Olympics start tonight!! I love this stuff!! I love the whole grandeur of the Opening Ceremony, the competitions, the medal ceremonies, blah blah blah!!! I gots to have me some snowboarding, bobsledding, speed skating with a triple toe loop and a death spiral thrown in for good measure. It all starts tonight and continues through the 26th, I think!! If none of you see me during the next two weeks, this is why. I've grown roots in front of the TV. It could get ugly!!!

Well, this whole blog thing has worked ... it's now 3:35 a.m. and I'm now tired ... SUCCESS!! I'm now off to b...zzzz-zzzzzz-zzzzzzzz-zzzzzzzz.................................

JOKE OF THE DAY -- February 12th, 2010

Yo Momma's so old...

Yo Momma's so old ... She left her purse on Noah's Ark.

Yo Momma's so old ... Jurassic Park brought back the memories.

Yo Momma's so old ... When she ran the 100 meter dash, they timed yo Momma with a sundial.

Yo Momma's so old ... She still owes Moses a dollar.

Yo Momma's so old ... When she was at school...there was no history class!

Yo Momma's so old ... She's got the first autographed Koran.

Yo Momma's so old ... When I asked for her ID, yo Momma handed me a rock

Yo Momma's so old ... She even made Yoda jealous.

Yo Momma's so old ... She recalls when the Grand Canyon was a ditch.

Yo Momma's so old ... When she gave birth, you came out with dentures.

Yo Momma's so old ... Her birthday expired.

Yo Momma's so old ... Her social security number is 000-000-001

Yo Momma's so old ... Her zip code is 00001.

Yo Momma's so old ... She used to cut Betty Rubble's hair

Yo Momma's so old ... She's the only one at the old folks home with a senior citizens discount.

Yo Momma's so old ... She farts out dust.

Yo Momma's so old ... Her birth certificate says "Expired" on it.

Yo Momma's so old ... She used to baby-sit Pascal

Yo Momma's so old ... She invented the term 'oldest profession in the world'

JOKE OF THE DAY -- February 11th, 2010

Mommy Bear and Daddy Bear were in divorce court. The judge looked down and asked the Baby Bear, "So Baby Bear, do you want to live with Daddy Bear?" "Oh, no," Baby Bear replied, "I don't want to live with Daddy Bear. He beat me." "Well then, you should live with Mommy Bear," answered the judge. "On, no, I don't want to live with Mommy Bear. She beat me." "Well then, Baby Bear, who do you want to live with?" Baby Bear said, "I want to live with the Chicago Bears. They don't beat anybody!"

JOKE OF THE DAY -- February 10th, 2010

SMART BLONDE JOKE

A blonde walks into a bank in New York City and asks for the Loan Officer. She says she's going to Europe on business for two weeks and needs to borrow $5,000.

The bank officer says the bank will need some kind of security for the loan, so the blonde hands over the keys to a new Mercedes Benz SL 500.

The car is parked on the street in front of the bank, she has the title and everything checks out. The bank agrees to accept the car collateral for the loan.

The bank's president and its officers all enjoy a good laugh at the blonde for using a $110,000 Benz as collateral against a $5,000 loan.

An employee of the bank then proceeds to drive the Benz into the bank's underground garage and parks it there. Two weeks later, the blonde returns, repays the $5,000 and the interest, which comes to $15.41.

The loan officer says, "Miss, we are very happy to have had your business, and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little puzzled. While you were away, we checked you out and found that you are a multimillionaire.

What puzzles us is, why would you bother to borrow $5,000?"

The blonde replies, "Where else in New York City can I park my car for two weeks for only $15.41 and expect it to be there when I return?"

Finally... a smart blonde joke.

It's 1:28 a.m. ... time for bed ... even if I'm not tired. My game plan is to lay there in bed and sing ... ever so softly (?!?!?) to myself. Preferably a chorus from church ... or "You Give Love A Bad Name" by Bon Jovi, whichever strikes me fancy. I find that the sound of me singing ever so softly (?!?!?) tends to knock me out faster than anything.

Hmmmmm, so let's recap, shall we ... the sound of my own voice tends to put me to sleep. (Guess I should stop singing when I'm driving or in the shower then. That could be bad, especially in the shower, 'cuz I'm not a good swimmer.)

So that's the plan. Wish me luck ... especially since I have to get up in 4 hours. :-(

Shay.

I think I have the need for a hysterical crying fit. So let me check ... do I have Kleenex?? Yes, I do. OK, all systems go ... read on.


At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:

"When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?"

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child."

Then he told the following story:

Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'

Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.

In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.

In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands.

In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.

Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.

The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

The game would now be over.

The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman.

Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!' Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!' Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.

By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball . . . the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.

He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.

Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the way, Shay!!!'

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!'

As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!'

Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.

'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.

Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

JOKE OF THE DAY -- February 9th, 2010

Things to do in the bathroom stall...

1. Cheer and clap loudly every time somebody breaks the silence with a bodily function noise.

2. Drop a marble and say, "Oh shoot!! My glass eye!!"

3. Say, "Man, this water is cold."

4. Fill up a large flask with Mountain Dew. Squirt it erratically under the stall walls of your neighbors while yelling, "Whoa! Easy boy!!"

5. Say, "Now how did that get there?"

6. Using a small squeeze tube, spread peanut butter on a wad of toilet paper and drop it under the stall wall of your neighbour. Then say, "Whoops, could you kick that back over here, please?"

7. Say, "Hummus. Reminds me of hummus."

8. Before you unroll the toilet paper, conspicuously lay down your "Cross-Dressers Anonymous" newsletter on the floor visible to the adjacent stall.

9. Drop a D-cup bra on the floor under the stall wall and sing "Born Free".

10. Lower a small mirror underneath the stall wall and adjust it so you can see your neighbor and say, "Peek-a-boo!"

JOKE OF THE DAY -- February 8th, 2010

Sorry ... I got all sidetracked with Super Bowl Sunday and basically just living at work. So, it's time to play catch-up with my Jokes of the Day ... Here is yesterday's joke (just pretend it's Monday, February 8th) ...

Redneck Medical Terms

Benign - What you be, after you be eight.
Artery - The study of paintings
Bacteria - Back door to cafeteria
Barium - what doctors do when patients die
Cesarean section - a neighborhood in Rome
Cat scan - searching for kitty
Cauterize - made eye contact with her
Colic - a sheep dog
Coma - a punctuation mark
D & C - Where Washington is
Dilate - to live long
Enema - Not a friend
Fester - quicker than someone else
Fibula - a small lie
GI series - world series of military baseball
Hangnail - what you hang your coat on
Impotent - distinguished, well-known
Labor pain - getting hurt at work
Medical staff - a doctor's cane
Morbid - a higher offer
Nitrates - cheaper than day rates
Node - I knew it
Outpatient - a person who has fainted
Pap Smear - A fatherhood test
Pelvis - second cousin to Elvis
Post Operative - a letter carrier
Recovery Room - place to do upholstery
Rectum - darn near killed him
Secretion - hiding something
Seizure - a Roman emperor
Tablet - a small table
Terminal Illness - getting sick at the airport
Tumor - one plus one more
Urine - opposite of you're out
Varicose - nearby / close by

JOKE OF THE DAY -- February 7th, 2010

... and here is last Sunday's joke ...

How to Please Your I.T. Department ...

1. When you call us to have your computer moved, be sure to leave it buried under half a ton of postcards, baby pictures, stuffed animals, dried flowers, bowling trophies and children's art. We don't have a life, and we find it deeply moving to catch a fleeting glimpse of yours.

2. Don't write anything down. Ever. We can play back the error messages from here.

3. When an I.T. person says he's coming right over, go for coffee. That way you won't be there when we need your password. It's nothing for us to remember 700 screen saver passwords.

4. When you call the help desk, state what you want, not what's keeping you from getting it. We don't need to know that you can't get into your mail because your computer won't power on at all.

5. When I.T. support sends you an E-Mail with high importance, delete it at once. We're just testing.

6. When an I.T. person is eating lunch at his desk, walk right in and spill your guts right out. We exist only to serve.

7. Send urgent email all in uppercase. The mail server picks it up and flags it as a rush delivery.

8. When the photocopier doesn't work, call computer support. There's electronics in it.

9. When something's wrong with your home PC, dump it on an I.T. person's chair with no name, no phone number and no description of the problem. We love a puzzle.

10. When an I.T. person tells you that computer screens don't have cartridges in them, argue. We love a good argument.

11. When an I.T. person tells you that he'll be there shortly, reply in a scathing tone of voice: "And just how many weeks do you mean by shortly?" That motivates us.

12. When the printer won't print, re-send the job at least 20 times. Print jobs frequently get sucked into black holes.

13. When the printer still won't print after 20 tries, send the job to all 68 printers in the company. One of them is bound to work.

14. Don't learn the proper term for anything technical. We know exactly what you mean by "My thingy blew up".

15. Don't use on-line help. On-line help is for wimps.

JOKE OF THE DAY -- February 6th, 2010

The following joke is an "anti-man" joke, but the bottom line is that ... it's actually pretty funny, so I'm sharing it with you anyway ...

A lady calls the police to report her husband is missing. The police arrive and ask for a description. She tells them he's 6 foot 2 inches tall, blonde wavy hair and has a smile that makes everybody love him. The police then go to the next door neighbor to verify this report and the lady next door tells the police, "You can't believe her. He's 5 foot 4 inches tall, has no hair and he wears a perpetual frown on his face." The neighbor then goes and asks the lady why she gave the police such a false report. She replies, "Just because I reported him missing, doesn't mean I wanted him back!"

JOKE OF THE DAY -- February 5th, 2010

Morris, an 82 year-old man, went to the doctor to get a physical. A few days later the doctor saw Morris walking down the street with a gorgeous young woman on his arm.

A couple of days later the doctor spoke to Morris and said, "You're really doing great, aren't you?"

Morris replied, "Just doing what you said, Doc: 'Get a hot mamma and be cheerful.'"

The doctor said, "I didn't say that. I said, 'You've got a heart murmur. Be careful.'"

Dear Diary ...

Dear Diary,

I'm not 100% sure that I have many readers on this blog. I had a few comments left on here when I first started this, but so far no one has commented on anything in a long time. So that kind of tells me that maybe no one is reading this. So, I'll let you in on a little secret ... I've lost 7 pounds!! I'm really, really trying to lose some of this weight.

I've been told I have the patience of Job, and I can put up with a lot. But when I'm sick of something, that's pretty much it. I'm done. I know this isn't healthy and frankly, I'm tired of the jiggling. I jiggle most of the time. Even when I try to suck in my stomach, I still jiggle. It may not be noticeable, but I can feel it. I jiggle to the left, I jiggle to the right. I look around church and I see people losing weight, but I sure don't seem to be one of them.

I saw a picture of me the other day when I was about 45 pounds lighter. Now granted, that was at the time when my mom died, so I think a lot of that was due to all the stress and not eating. But honestly, I was kinda hot (or as hot as I can get ... OK, I was lukewarm). :-) But anyway, I felt a lot better about myself then. I've noticed that through the years ... one burrito at a time ... this "food thing" has seemed to slowly take control of me. But that doesn't include the Twinkie Delight Masterpiece I created for a work party we had today. Calories don't count when it's a party at work. That's a known fact.

I have rippling abs, but mine ripple for a completely different reason. I can joke about it, but on the inside, it bothers me. It's not like me to just simply hand over control of my health to Combo Meal #412.

My brother said something to me the other day. I think that he thinks I don't listen to him, but I do. He said, "You have to make a decision whether or not your health is more important than that food item you have in your hand." And he's right. But I do have to draw the line somewhere ... I derive extreme pleasure from the Cashew Nut Chicken and Summer Rolls (2 1/2 stars with no green peppers) at Thip's Thai Restaurant, and their food IS more important than my health!! :-) Besides, I only eat there like every three weeks, so cut me some slack, OK?

I've been to the YMCA and I've attempted to Zumba. I've looked up the origin of the word "Zumba". It literally means torture from the 72nd layer of Hell. Plus, I have no rhythm when it comes to dancing. I thought I did. I thought wrong. Thank the Lord I was on the back row when I attempted this. I noticed the weight room is next to the Zumba room. I might try that. I need to find something I am comfortable with.

We have a gym at work that literally is up one flight of steps and down a small hall. I have been there. It's a very nice gym. But I did have an unexpectedly adverse reaction to seeing my co-workers parade around in the locker room in their underwear. I didn't think that would bother me, but it kind of did. I work with these people. I like these people ... a lot. But that does not mean I want to see them in their bright purple bikini briefs (yes, one actually had on bright ... purple ... bikini ... briefs. Honestly, they were more like lavender, which makes the whole thing even worse. I've never looked at him the same way again.) I would rather exercise with people I don't know. Call me odd, but odd's not a bad thing. It's OK.

So, as I look down at the rippling paradise that are my abs, I'm audibly saying to them, "You're outta here!!" That's kind of liberating. And it's not like I have to lose a whole lot. 50 pounds should do it. The guy on the infomercial this morning did it. Why can't I??

So Diary, I will make you a pledge ... the day that I am less than 200 pounds is the day I will do a cartwheel. I've never done a cartwheel in my life. Just the thought of that makes me laugh.

So that's it. My weight-loss journey kicked into high-gear a couple of weeks ago and will be continuing for a while. And Diary, I'll tell you something else, but don't tell anyone, OK?? The women at my church are my inspiration. They've done so much work for a while now and it really shows. I'm very proud of them. Maybe someday I can be as good as them. We'll see ...

Thanks Diary ... you're a good listener!! I have to go ... I have some mandarin oranges to inhale!!

Ryan

JOKE OF THE DAY -- February 4th, 2010

Entertainment at the Senior Center

It was entertainment night at the senior center and the Amazing Claude was topping the bill. People came from miles around to see the famed hypnotist do his stuff. As Claude went to the front of the meeting room, he announced, "Unlike most hypnotists who invite two or three people up here to be put into a trance, I intend to hypnotize each and every member of the audience."

The excitement was almost electric as Claude withdrew a beautiful antique pocket watch from his coat. "I want you each to keep your eye on this antique watch. It's a very special watch. It's been in my family for six generations."

He began to swing the watch gently back and forth while quietly chanting, "Watch the watch, watch the watch, watch the watch..."

The crowd became mesmerized as the watch swayed back and forth, light gleaming off its polished surface. Hundreds of pairs of eyes followed the swaying watch, until, suddenly, it slipped from the hypnotist's fingers and fell to the floor, breaking into a hundred pieces.

"CRAP!", said the Hypnotist.

It took three days to clean up the senior center

Hot Pizza Dip Recipe ...

Here's the players:

8 ounces cream cheese

1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

1/2 teaspoon dried parsley

1/4 teaspoon dried basil

1 cup shredded mozzarella

1 cup pizza sauce

2 tablespoons chopped green pepper (yuck)

Chopped pepperoni

2 tablespoons sliced black olives

Mix together the cream cheese, oregano, parsley and basil. Spread the mixture in the bottom of a 9-inch pie plate. Sprinkle 1/2 cup of the mozzarella cheese and 1/2 cup of the parmesan cheese on top of the cream cheese mixture.

Spread the pizza sauce over all. Sprinkle with remaining cheese, then top with green pepper, pepperoni and olive slices. Cover and nuke it for 5 minutes. Serve hot.