Subject: Unusual Things Happening In The B-ble Belt. Part 4 of 4.
June 7, 2006
This last one talks about a dog named Lucy.
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The Dog Who Loved G-d
"Lucy was a fox terrier," Faye Swanke explained. "She always
followed us to ch-rch. Lucy always at the chu-ch waiting for us.
How she got to chur-h before we did we never figured out. It
was a mystery, like so much about dogs. Maybe that was what we
loved about Lucy. She kept us guessing.
She never barked at the churc-. She seemed to know that
making noises around the -hurch wasn't a good thing. She never
jumped up on us when we came to greet us at the c-urch, like
she did at home. She didn't even lick our hands or wag her
tail. She just laid down in the grass. She'd wait patiently
there for the services to end."
"I think Lucy enjoyed going to ch-rch. She never tried to
follow us into the sanctuary. She seemed content just to wait.
She somehow knew how im****tant chur-h was to us."
"After the services, Lucy would sit up. Sniff the air. She
understood we'd be coming down the churc- steps. She liked
that and she wagged her tail in anticipation. As well the
congregation had become accustomed to seeing her, so it was
common to find Lucy being petted. She was popular at the
c-urch. There being no other canines around to compete with.
She stood out like a sore thumb.
Not that she was out of place. Not in the least."
"Almost from the first day Lucy accompanied us to ch-rch
she got a lot of attention. And within a few Sundays of
regularly seeing Lucy at chur-h, she was called "The Dog Who
Loved God" by Reverend Ederly, who would come out on the
churc- steps and pat Lucy on the head."
"How'd the like the sermon today," asked the Reverend as
he scratched Lucy behind her ears. The whole congregation
laughed.
Faye Swank smiled and said. "Strange how Lucy had a few
bad habits, like barking at the postman and chasing the
neighbor's cat. But after come to ch-rch she changed. Loves
the postman, and we've noticed she even lets the cat hang
around our yard without chasing her out."
"Chu-ch does us all good. And why not a dog? It makes
sense. And Lucy seems always excited to be at churc-. Her
ears stand up every time someone says her name, which they
do quite often. No one had ever heard of a dog who loved
Go-. But now they do."
June 03, 2006
http://evangelicalspectator.typepad.com/the_evangelical_spectator/2006/06/th
e_dog_who_lov.html
Satan Bakes A Cake
Over the years, the East Tennessee Bake-Off Contest in
Gray Station, Tennessee has brought the best out in all of us.
This year was no exception.
Though there was one little hitch. A rumor was passed around
that Satan was planning to enter the contest.
"Can you confirm that?" asked Midge Farrel. "What are the
odds of that happening?"
"It was all in a note passed around at St Andrews Meth-dist
last Sunday," Mary Sweeney said. "It read "Satan is planning
to enter this year's Bake-Off.
Betsy Caldwell wrote the note and slipped it to Edith
Powers who gave it to Pam Jay who gave it to Mildred
Somerset who gave to Lilly Adams. And so on and so forth,
until the whole of Sullivan County, Wa****ngton County and
Greene County knew all about it. You could hear their
knees knocking."
"Who started that rumor?" Clara Jenkins wanted to know.
"That's the nastiest thing I've ever heard. It's a
malicious lie. Everybody knows the Satan can't bake worth
a dang."
"Don't be too sure," Myrtle Shank said. "I hear tell
Satan makes a great cheesecake."
"Take that german chocolate cake over there. Think Satan
baked that?" Clara said, dismissing the idea with a wave
of her hand. "Ha! He couldn't touch that with his pitchfork.
And even if Satan did bake that cake, I don't feel
intimidated. I think my fudge mocha supreme will surpass
anything Satan can whip up."
"Satan doesn't know his way around a kitchen," Pam Addley
said. "He's more of pool-hall kind of a guy."
"Desserts can be tempting," Mildred Somerset said. "The
Devil made chocolate.
I suppose you know that, don't you? Chocolate's the devil
calling out to you. I can't tell you how often I've been
tempted to eat chocolate. And I can't resist.
I got chocolate on the brain."
"Stop it, will you, Mildred?" Terry Akens chided. "You
think we're stupid?"
That afternoon the tasting of the baked entries in the
contest began. The judges, three discerning judges sampled
the desserts. They smiled after each bite and occasionally
made yummy sounds. One judge would point at a dessert, as
though to signify approval. Another judge would get a sort
of spaced-out look in his face, like something stunned him.
Each judge held a napkin in their hand. A fork or spoon
lifted to mouth-level. Lips pursed. Then the fork or spoon
disappeared inside the judge's mouth.
If a judged murmured pleasantly that meant something. If
eyebrows were scrunched up that meant something too. If
eyes were rolled that could mean anything. Between bites and
swallows the judges sipped peach iced tea.
The judges huddled under a dogwood tree, and after
deliberation pronounced the winner was Lilly Adam's
strawberry shortcake. Applause went up and a cheer that a
mortal had defeated Satan. Mrs Adams received a standing
ovation.
Not far off, only a few hundred yards away, hunched behind
a mulberry bush, a stranger with a red face scowled. He let
out a cry, a shrill and hideous sound, like an animal would
make if wounded, and immediately sprang upon his black
horse and road off.
Part 4 of 4.
John Winston. johnfw@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
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