" U P C I , Possible Problem ? "
 

" U P C I , Possible Problem ? "



WHAT IF


This Was
An Ellection Year

AND

'LB' of Realto
Got Voted In
As
General Superandtendant

NEXT

The Television Issue
Also
Got Voted In

The Question ;

Would The Newly Elected 'GS'
BE aGoing Down The Hall
To That Special { SECRET } Room ? ? ?


:banghead

jist wanderin

Bishop1

Never happen in a million years.

You mean LB wouldn't frequent the secret room? Or would he be busy cleaning some of the recent messes?

Watch out for a flock of flying pigs...

Are they heading to the secret room too?

LB has as much chance being elected GS as I do.

Does LB stand for Larry Boy from Veggie Tales?:killinme

No but I deduce you can catch the new Saturday morning cartoon version of Veggie Tales in the special secret room.

Did I help????:toofunny:toofunny:toofunny

Aside from my unabashed...yet, completely merited...devotion to my pastor, I would probably rather hear LB than anyone else. "Class act" is just a scratch on the surface.

WHAT IF



" KH "
Was Voted
Back In

Then

" NW "
And His Delegation
March Out To
That SECREQT ROOM

Also

" VM "
Pulls Out To Go
Full Tyme AMC

AND
" CMcG "
Throws In His Card, Rejoining
The ALJC

THUS PLACING

Those FOUR

" Brother-In-Laws "

Each In His Own Little Ole Group


THE QUESTION IS

JUST WHO

WILL THE

OTHER BROTHER-IN-LAW
{ JMcD }

FELLOWSHIP WITH ? ? ?
{without offending any of the above ?}

:grumpy

just wanderin

Bishop1

Who cares?

The organization or lack thereof has no bearing on salvation.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."

Source

ALAS
My Learned Friend - - -

Here Is The Rest Of
' THE RAVEN '
{ by Edgar Allen Poe }


The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious
volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping,
suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping
at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered,
"tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember
it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember
wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;-
vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow-
sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden
whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain
rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic
terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating
of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating
entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating
entrance at my chamber door;-
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger;
hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly
your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping,
and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping,
tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"-
here I opened wide the door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering,
long I stood there wondering,fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals
ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken,
and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken
was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo
murmured back the word, "Lenore!"-
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning,
all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping
somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is
something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat
is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment
and this mystery explore;-
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter,
when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven
of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he;
not a minute stopped or stayed
he;
But, with mien of lord or lady,
perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas j
ust above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling
my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum
of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven,
thou," I said, "art sure n craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven
wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is
on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly
fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning-
little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing
that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing
bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured
bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely
on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul
in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered-
not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered,
"other friends have flown before-
On the morrow he will leave me,
as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken
by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters
is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master
whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster t
ill his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope
that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never- nevermore'."

But the Raven still beguiling
all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in
front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking,
I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking
what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly,
gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing,
but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes
now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining,
with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining
that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining
with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser,
perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls
tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee-
by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe,
from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe
and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!-
prophet still, if bird or devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether
tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted,
on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted-
tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?-
tell me- tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil-
prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us-
by that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if,
within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden
whom the angels name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden
whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign in parting,
bird or fiend," I shrieked upstarting-
"Get thee back into the tempest
and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token
of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!-
quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart,
and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting,
still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas
just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming
of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming t
hrows his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow
that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!




:banghead
ishop1

AMONG THE MULTITUDE


AMONG the men and women the multitude,
I perceive one picking me out
by secret and divine signs,
Acknowledging none else,
not parent, wife, husband, brother, child,
any nearer than I am,

Some are baffled,
but that one is not--
that one knows me.
Ah lover and perfect equal,

I meant that you should discover
me so by faint indirections,
And I when I meet you
mean to discover you by the like in you.

{ by: Walt Whitman)


:banghead
Bishop1

When I Consider How My Light Is Spent

When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide;

"Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies,
"God doth not need Either man's work
or His own gifts. Who best Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best.
His state Is kingly: thousands at His bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait."


{ by John Milton }

:banghead
Bishop1

SEE THE BRIGHT SIDE OF THINGS

Date: TODAY
From: THE BOSS
Subject: YOURSELF
Reference: LIFE


I am God.
Today I will be handling all of your problems.
Please remember
that I do not need your help.

If life happens to deliver a situation to you
that you cannot handle,
do not attempt to resolve it.
Kindly put it in the SFGTD
(something for God to do) box.
All situations will be resolved,
but in My time,
not yours

Once the matter is placed into the box,
do not hold on to it by worrying about it.
Instead, focus on all the wonderful things
that are present in your life now.

If you find yourself stuck in traffic;
Don't despair.
There are people in this world for whom
driving is an unheard of privilege.

Should you have a bad day at work;
Think of the man who has been out of work for years

Should you despair over a relationship gone bad;
Think of the person who has never known what
it's like to love and be loved in return

Should you grieve the passing of another weekend;
Think of the woman in dire straits,
working twelve hours a day,
seven days a week to feed her children

Should your car break down,
leaving you miles away from assistance;
Think of the paraplegic
who would love the opportunity
to take that walk.

Should you notice a new gray hair in the mirror;
Think of the cancer patients in chemo
who wishes they had hair to examine.

Should you find yourself at a loss
and pondering what is life all about,
asking what is my purpose?
Be thankful.
There are those who didn't live long enough
to get the opportunity.

Should you find yourself the victim of other people's
bitterness, ignorance, smallness or insecurities;
Remember, things could be worse.
You could be one of them

Should you decide to send this to a friend;
Thank you,
you may have touched their life in ways
you will never know!





Thought That I Would Passs This along Today
-


Bishop1

" OLD FOLKS AT HOME "

If you have a dear old mother and a father
old and gray,
Sit down and write the letter and to them
kindly say:
Dear mother, I shall ne'er forget how kind
you were to me,
When I was a little child beneath your ever
watchful eye.

Words that are unspoken have no kindness
to impart,
Like the knelling of the bell that makes the
tear-drops start.
Don't wait until their tired steps reach Heav-
en's pearly gate.
Pluck roses while they're living, place them
on their plate.

We live out in the present, yesterday is past
and gone.
Tomorrow is not ours, in fact it may never
come.
The silver path that leads to fortune may
vanish while you wait.
So make the old folks happy before it is too
late.

Write them a tender message full of hope
and good cheer.
Show them that you think of them each hour,
each day, each year.
Who knows what bitter memories may haunt
you if you wait?
With a loving spirit, write them before it is
too late.

{ The Plains Poems in Kansas by J. P. Dunn }




Bishop1