Bad Cold by Shel Silverstein

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  This cold is too much for my shortsleeve. Go get me a Kleenex--and fast. I sniffle and wheeze And I'm ready to sneeze And I don't know how long I can last.... Atchoo--it's to wet for a kleenex, So bring me handkerchief, quick. It's--atchoo--no joke, Now the handkerchief's soaked. Hey, a dish towel just might do the trick. Atchoo--it's too much for bath towel. There never has been such a cold. I'll be better off With that big tablecloth, No--bring me the flag off the pole. Atchoo--bring the clothes from the closet, Atchaa--get the sheets from the bed, The drapes off the window, The rugs off the floor To soak up this cold in my head. Atchoo-- hurry down to the circus And ask if they'll lend you the tent. You say they said yes? Here it comes--Lord be blessed-- Here it is--Ah-kachoooo--there it went.

Going Back to Sin

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"Are you filled with an inexpressible gratitude for the 'unspeakable gift' of the Cross? Have you seen Jesus Christ 'evidently set forth and crucified?' Can you say with Paul, 'God forbid that I should glory, save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified to me, and I to the world' (Galatians 6:14)? After seeing the love of the cross, how could we ever go back to the pleasures of sin? To do that, we have to trample underfoot the blood of Jesus Christ. We would have to count the sacrifice of Calvary as nothing. Instead, we willfully crucify ourselves to the world. We whisper with the hymnist, 'When I survey the wondrous cross, on which the Prince of Glory died, my richest gain I count but loss, and pour contempt on all my pride.'"

(From Way of the Master Minute)

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