Old Farmer's Advice

Mary O. emailed me this...I shared it in a recent sermon, LUV IT!

Old Farmer's Advice:

Your fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight and bull-strong.

Keep skunks and bankers at a distance.

Life is simpler when you plow around the stump.

A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor.

Words that soak into your ears are whispered....not yelled.

Meanness don't jes' happen overnight.

Forgive your enemies; it messes up their heads.

Do not corner something that you know is meaner than you.

It don't take a very big person to carry a grudge.

You cannot unsay a cruel word.

Every path has a few puddles.

When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty.

The best sermons are lived, not preached.

Don't judge folks by their relatives.

Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.

Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you'll enjoy it a second time.

Don 't interfere with somethin' that ain't bothering you none.

If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin'.

Sometimes you get, and sometimes you get got.

The biggest troublemaker you'll probably ever have to deal with, watches you from the mirror every mornin'.

Always drink upstream from the herd.

Good judgment comes from experience, and a lotta' that comes from bad judgment.

Lettin' the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin' it back in..

If you get to thinkin' you're a person of some influence, try orderin' somebody else's dog around..

Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.

NYM Conference

We took a wonderful group of Bayard kids to conference this weekend!

Here's some pics from the fun...

SO LOOKING FORWARD TO MARGOT'S MINISTRY TOMORROW!

Wish the band from conference could come help me lead worship tomorrow...I SO ENJOYED playing keys with them!

(I put some videos on my facebook)

In honor of Nick

Judy Deaver tearfully shared her heart on Sunday morning and then...LOOK WHAT THE LORD HAS DONE!!!

In memory of her son she motivated our church to begin a SOUP SUPPER!

This amazing church really understands that MANY HANDS MAKE LIGHT WORK!

You should have seen the sign-up list, what TEAM spirit!

Come join us for SOUP every WEDNESDAY, 4:30pm (whether for need or just for friendship)!

THIS IS WHAT THE CHURCH IS SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE!

Here's a couple pics from our first night, Judy said on facebook that we served 60 - 70!

It is such a PRIVILEGE to be your pastor! Thank you for BLESSING my family today!

Here's some pics from today's special stuff for pastors appreciation!

I FEEL VERY APPRECIATED AND LOVED!

Your outpouring of cards and food and funds and hugs and...were overwhelming!

If ya'll keep this up, you may never get rid of us!!!

Operation Christmas Child, Dedication Sunday: November 21st

Holly and I LOVE Operation Christmas Child!

We want to invite our new church family to pack some SHOE BOXES and bring em to church Sunday morning, November 21st so we can pray over them!

Holly and I will transport them to the nearest drop-off spot in Scottsbluff!

We have lots of the very important "how to pack a shoe box" flyers at the church...

for more info visit: http://www.samaritanspurse.org/index.php/occ

Youth Conference and a special treat for Cornerstone

SO EXCITED! Cornerstone Fellowship is hosting the special guest speaker for Nebraska AG Western Fall 2010 Youth Conference the Sunday AM after the conference (Oct 24)! Margot Rea (the amazing District Youth Director for Wyoming AG) is an old college friend of Holly and I's!

for more info on the conference visit: http://neag.org/youth/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=131:fall-youth-convention&catid=37:fp-rokstories&Itemid=170

church is fun

Tonight we kicked off a new year of kids clubs!

I think there may have been about 800 kids (atleast thats what it looked like to me)!

Wayne and Tammy McMurtry lead this ministry well!

You should have heard them all dreaming about all the fun their planning this year...

And what better way to begin then with a bonfire and marshmallows (I wish I would have remembered my camera to take pictures of all those beautiful kids with marshmallow all over the face)!!!

Pray with me that the Lord will provide more adult helpers/leaders...if you are interested in helping in anyway (there is no small contribution) please holler at Wayne and Tammy!

I also restarted my book club! The discussion was ALIVE!

We are going to learn alot from Peter and each other!

All my extra copies are gone so if you want a copy you'll probably have to order online (the emotionally healthy church by peter scazzero)...

But even if you're not an avid reader, you will be blessed by just showing up (we're basically reading the book together and stopping often to discuss, which means we may take several wks for each chapter, we only made it thru the intro this evening)...

Oh and I can't forget those GO GIRLS that the amazing Judy Deaver leads so well!

As they were leaving youth group I asked what they learned and one of the teen girls said, "God's Will not mine"!!! GO GIRL! GO GOD! YEAH!!!

Oh and Bob Belford is filling an important hole this year by starting a Junior High group! SO GREAT! They even have their eyes set on demolishing a wall and making some space at the church to call their own...

Oh and...

(I am so encouraged when I see such TEAM spirit growing! Everybody is a minister, Everybody needs a ministry! When a church focuses on WE instead of ME, anything is possible!)

The Rancher

I shared this last Sunday...This church filled with ranchers and farmers is still talkin about it...

The rancher went one day to fix a distant fence.
The wind was cold and gusty and the clouds rolled, gray and dense,
As he pounded the last staples in and gathered tools to go,
The temperature had fallen and the snow began to blow.
When he finally reached his pickup, he felt a heavy heart,
From the sound of that ignition, he knew it wouldn't start.
So Jake did what most of us would do, if we'd have been there.
He humbly bowed his balding head and sent aloft a prayer.

As he turned the key for the last time, he softly cursed his luck.
They found him three days later, frozen stiff in that old truck.
Now Jake had been around in life, and done his share of roaming.
But when he saw Heaven, he was shocked -- it looked just like Wyomin'.

Of all the saints in Heaven, his favorite was St. Peter.
[Now, this line, it isn't needed but it helps with rhyme and meter.]
So they sat and talked a minute or two, or maybe it was three,
Nobody was keepin' score -- in Heaven time is free.

"I've always heard," Jake said to Pete, "that God will answer prayer,
But one time I asked for help, and, well He just plain wasn't there.
Does God answer prayers of some, and ignores the prayers of others?
That don't seem exactly square -- I know all men are brothers.

Or does he randomly reply, without good rhyme or reason?
Maybe, it's the time of day, the weather or the season.
Now I just ain't trying to act smart, it's just the way I feel,
And I was wonderin', could you tell me -- what the heck's the deal?"

Peter listened very patiently and when Jake was done,
There were smiles of recognition, and he said, "So, you're the one!
That day your truck wouldn't start, and you sent your prayer a flying,
You gave us all a real bad time, with hundreds of us a trying.

A thousand angels rushed to check the status of your file,
But you know, Jake - - - we hadn't heard from you in quite a while.
And though all prayers are answered, and God ain't got no quota,
He didn't recognize your voice, and started a truck in South Dakota.

The Old Phone

I sure hope this story is true!

...shared it in a sermon recently, trying to be like Jesus, He is the master story teller...

I desire Cornerstone Fellowship to look like this, filled with many souls living out "information please"!

THE OLD PHONE

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side

of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.

I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.

"Information."

"I hurt my finger" I wailed into the phone, the tears came

readily enough now that I had an audience

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.

"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.

"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.

I said I could.

"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger,"

said the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I

asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, "Information Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."

Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone and called, "Information Please."

"Information," said in the now familiar voice.

"How do I spell fix?" I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest.

When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow

never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the

table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of

those childhood conversations never really left me.

Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down

in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I

spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed

my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well. "Information."

I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"

I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

"Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information." I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?" she said.

"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. "Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick.

She died five weeks ago."

Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute, did you say

your name was Wayne?"

"Yes." I answered.

"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case

you called.

Let me read it to you." The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.