Bad Cold by Shel Silverstein

  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.

Why Icons Cannot Preach the Gospel

Suppose that a person wants to become a missionary and bring the gospel to a tribe that had never heard it. But the person finds the process of preparation too long, difficult and expensive: years of language training, preparation to live in a primitive culture, raising financial support, etc. So the would-be missionary comes up with a brilliant idea—travel to a key place where the tribal members meet, sneak in at night, construct a huge cross, and leave the country without saying a word—and carries out the plan. The next day the entire tribe gathers to marvel at the cross and ponder where it came from and what it meant. Perhaps, in time, they would even come to relish the cross and see it as a sign from beyond their world.

Read the rest here.

Popular posts from this blog

Rock Me, Epictetus!

The Smooth-flowing Life