Stabbed Angel

Being a priest is not really a sedentary job where you work just one day a week and you have plenty of time for leisure and watching TV. Far from it. Sometimes you come face to face with real danger as Father Ignatius can testify.

It was a wet autumn evening with leaves covering the ground, and when they start rotting away and become slimy and slippery; a cold autumn evening with a freezing wind that blows right through you; the kind of evening when you’d much rather be at home by the fireside with a hot cup of chocolate in your hands. Yes ... not the sort of evening to be out and about.

You guessed it ... the phone rang and Father Ignatius was called out as a matter of urgency.

One of his elderly parishioners was very ill and not expected to see the night through. Father Ignatius jumped in his car and drove to one of the less salubrious parts of town where Mrs Bartholomew lived alone with a cat as a pet. As he arrived at her house in a darkly lit street the doctor was just leaving; and a kind neighbour had agreed to stay with her until Mrs Bartholomew’s son and daughter-in-law arrived from another town not so far away.

Father Ignatius stayed with the elderly lady to comfort her and to pray with her until her family arrived at about half-past eleven at night.

As he left the house he said yet another silent prayer for her and made his way, in the drizzling rain, towards his car. He was just a few feet away from the vehicle when suddenly, out of the dark, a young man jumped out from an alleyway brandishing a big knife.

The priest was startled and was fortunate enough to recover his balance on the slippery ground by leaning back on his car.

The young man, hardly visible in the semi-darkness, pointed the knife at Father Ignatius and said, “your wallet mister … and be quick about it …”

The priest could see the long blade shining in the little light that was available from a nearby shop window. Before he could say or do anything the young man lunged forward with the knife aimed at the priest’s chest. Father Ignatius moved sideways as a reflex and felt the knife slide down his side. Somehow, it got caught in his coat pocket pulling forward the youth who slipped badly hitting his head against the car door as he fell to the ground.

The youngster screamed in agony as the blade cut into him.

Father Ignatius stooped down to help him. He had the presence of mind to throw the knife a distance away and told the lad to stay still whilst he fetched some help from the “24/7” shop.

Moments later both an ambulance and the police were on the scene and the youth was taken away.

The following day Father Ignatius called at the police station as advised by the officers. He learnt that the youngster, only 15 years old, was un-employed, and living rough. This was hardly unusual in this desolate town where commerce and industry had long given up hope and departed.

He was asked to make a statement and to help press charges against his would-be assailant, but Father Ignatius had other things in mind. He knew the chief-of-police and somehow managed to get the youngster put in his care without pressing charges for the attempted mugging. It was after all a first-time offence and the police had no previous records of the lad. Three weeks later the priest found him a job with a local farmer.

But the story does not end there.

On the night of the attack Father Ignatius returned home very late into the night. Father Donald and Mrs Davenport the housekeeper were up and worried out of their minds. They did not know where the priest had been.

After getting cleaned up and nursing a nice cup of chocolate in his hands he re-told them that night’s events. Father Donald insisted that in future he’d be the one to go out late at night if necessary. In his early thirties, and half of Ignatius’ age, he thought he should be the one out there, leaving “the old man” at home.

Father Ignatius smiled and said nothing. Then after a pause he confided:

“Tonight, I’ve learnt two things I never realised before. When the situation first started and I thought I was about to die, I discovered that, in reality, I was not afraid of death. We all claim as Christians not to be afraid of death; and when it nearly happened to me, I found out I really wasn't scared at all. I seemed ready for it, but I was more concerned as to whether it would be painful.

“Secondly, I think my Guardian Angel helped me tonight. When the knife came at me at speed, I saw a white shape come between me and the young boy. It was all over in a flash. One second I saw the shape and the next the boy was on the ground in agonizing pain. I'm certain that knife was stopped into going in my chest.”

Unfortunately, in a town where nothing much of interest happens, the story of the attack found its way in the newspapers.

For days afterwards, every time Father Ignatius went to St Andrew’s Catholic School the young boys made karate movements with their hands when they saw him, and called him Father Kung-Fu.

Ancient History and Statues

I was reading a book on ancient history the other day. It's amazing what one can learn from the past. The Romans, Greeks, Egyptians and other people from times gone by like the Aztecs, the Assyrians and so on.

Have you wondered for instance why there are so many statues and busts of people from ancient times? They have been found over the years in various archaeological digs and expeditions and are now kept in museums. But why so many statues were made, do you think?

I've discovered that, in Roman times there were a number of check-points by the Roman guards along the Appian Way. That’s the strategic main road connecting Rome to Brindisi and Apulia. The road was named after the Roman censor Appius Claudius Caecus.

He it was who held the very first large scale census in Rome to discover how people lived; their habits, likes and dislikes and so on. He discovered that most Romans did not like broccoli and was frightened out of his census.

Anyway, the guards at the check-points stopped the chariots and asked the driver for their identity. Unfortunately, that was before cameras and photos were invented; so people carried statues of themselves as a form of identity. Some poor people carried just a model of their heads, or busts; and the rich ones had a full body statue of themselves which they carried at all times in case they were stopped and had to prove who they were. The guards would compare the individual's face with the statue to make sure they were the same.

Unfortunately, carrying such heavy stone, or marble, statues all the time meant that many Romans got injured. As you know, Romans, as well as Greeks and Egyptians had many gods in those days. Gods of war, agriculture, hunting, love and so on.

The injured Romans who got hurt carrying heavy statues went to pray at the temple of the goddess Hernia, or the god Haemorrhoid.

Unfortunately, there are no statues of these two deities which have ever been found or survived the ravages of time. I wonder what Haemorrhoid looked like.

One famous statue that survived and is well known is Venus de Milo.

Strictly speaking Venus de Milo is a Greek statue. It is disputed as to whether it was sculpted by Praxiteles or Alexandros of Antioch. As there are no surviving Court manuscripts of legal actions between these two individuals relating to Copyright issues we'll never know the creator of this statue. 

The statue is believed to depict Aphrodite the Greek Goddess of love and beauty who was quite harmless in her time, (armless - keep up with my subtle jokes).

However, some scholars claim it was the sea-goddess Amphridite but who cares?

There once was a goddess called Aphrodite

Who wore a pink see-through nightie

And the closer you looked

It was clear you were hooked

By her curves which were certainly alrighty.

Anyway, throughout history archaeologists and learned people have not been able to work out where and how her arms were positioned when the statue was first made.

Was she pointing at something perhaps? Or holding a sword up above her head, or a three-pronged spear known as a trident? It is after all the weapon of the sea god Neptune. Historians have also wondered how the cloth around her waist manages to stay put and not fall off. After all, Velcro had not been invented in those days.

In order to unravel this mystery I have done some research and can now reveal how her arms were positioned when the statue was first made.

She was saying to one and all ... "TA DAA" and the audience clapped and cheered in delight.

Apparently, when her husband saw the statue he was very upset that his wife would pose in the nude for the sculptor; so he angrily went to see him. In order to defuse the situation the sculptor claimed that Venus had not posed nude for him. He said, "I sculpted her from memory!"

The husband punched him even harder than he first intended.

Other statues that survived history for us to enjoy are Michelangelo's David.

Unfortunately, over the years with our style of living he has put on a little weight.

Also surviving is Rodin's The Kiss

The sculpture was originally titled Francesca da Rimini because it was in fact meant to be the 13th-century Italian noblewoman from Dante's "Inferno" (Circle 2, Canto 5).

Apparently, Francesca fell in love with her husband's younger brother, Paolo and ... as I mentioned before ... because cameras had not yet been invented, the private detective gathering evidence for the husband had to quickly sculpt the statue which was then carried to the Divorce Court as proof that she was having an affair. Thereafter the PI visited the goddess Hernia to pray for healing.

Another famous surviving statue is also by Rodin's and entitled Constipation ...

The Voice From Above

A strange experience the other day. I was out in the garden, sitting, relaxing, and admiring time go by.

Then I heard a booming voice from above, "Where am I? Where am I?"

My first instinct was to drop on my knees and pray; just in case God was checking on me as He probably does all of us from time to time.

I held my hands together and closed my eyes in prayer. The voice continued, "Where am I? Where am I?"

I half-opened one eye and looked left and right to see if anyone was there. An angel with a tenor voice perhaps, like Pavarotti used to have. There was no one there.

I looked up at the trees, in case there was an escaped pet parrot, also with a tenor voice. Apart from some birds like sparrows, tits, robins, pigeons and a squirrel, there was no parrots there. I realise that the squirrel is not a bird, but he just happened to be there.

As I got up from my knees the voice shouted again, "Where am I? Where am I?"

I looked up at the sky and up there was a hot-air balloon. It was losing height and about to land. The pilot shouted, "Where am I? Where am I?"

I replied, "You can't fool me mate. You're hiding in that basket up in the air!"

What a weird stupid way to play hide and seek. I tell you.

Imagine

Imagine you were there at the time of the Crucifixion. One of the crowd. Watching. What would you do?

Shout "Crucify Him!" and jeer? Remain silent? Argue with the soldiers and the Pharisees? Plead with Pilate and Herod perhaps about this injustice? Or run away?

Now imagine the injustice of babies killed day after day. Torn apart limb from limb. Condemned to death without even a trial or the opportunity to defend their innocence. Killed before they are born.

Imagine also the injustice of people being persecuted because of their faith. Attacked, injured and even killed for their beliefs.

Imagine the injustice of people suffering poverty. With little or nothing to eat, perhaps through no fault of their own. Whilst elsewhere people enjoy many luxuries and spend as if there is no tomorrow.

Imagine the injustice against many innocent people languishing in prisons everywhere through false or no evidence against them at all.

Imagine the injustice of the sick and the elderly with no one to care and to love and cherish them. Imagine the injustice of their loneliness with no hope on the horizon. Waiting for death as their only way out.

Imagine the injustice of all the prejudices in the world that alienate and separate people from each other, leading to fear, suspicion, and even violence.

Imagine God saying, "I gave you this beautiful world for you to enjoy and to live in peace with each other. Look what you have done to it!"

FATHER FRANCIS MAPLE

These boots are made for walking

What's all this about going out for a walk? What is the point, I tell you. Why not act civilised and stay at home and do something sensible. Like watching football on TV.

Ideally, I like to sit at the piano, with a glass of wine on the side, and perhaps a cigar or a pipe, and play some long forgotten tune from the past. Now that's romantic. And better than going out for another walk with the dog.

The problem with that scenario is that I don't smoke, and I don't drink wine, and I can't play the piano either. We don't even have a piano. We have a toy xylophone. It's out of tune since I accidentally stepped on it. We only bought it because it is in the book of alphabets under X. It was either buying a xylophone, or an X Ray machine.

By the way, it reminds me when I went to hospital for a check-up. They asked me to take all my clothes off and stand in front of this X Ray machine which took a photo from head to toe. Funny, I don't remember eating all those bones!

Anyway, I hate it when they say let's go for a walk.

Where to?

Oh ... just there and back?

Why?

No reason.

Well, I've just been there and back and beat you to it. Now leave me alone to watch the football.

But you'll get some fresh air.

I can always turn the fan on for that.

And you'll get some exercise. You need exercise.

I get all the exercise I need my pressing the buttons on the remote control.

At last, they went for a walk and left me in peace to watch the football. I got interrupted by a text message from a lady friend of mine.

I hate this new text speak, don't you? Shortened words like OMG, BTW and LOL. I thought LOL meant lots of love!

I texted her back, "Sorry to hear your mom has died. LOL"

She thinks I'm a heartless **** My family think I'm an idiot. And Heaven knows what you think.

Right now, I'll sit back and watch this video again and again ... that will be my exercise for the day.

Are you blessed?

Matthew 5:1-12

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

What does Jesus mean by poor in spirit? Does He mean simple-minded people? People who are not so learned about theology, religion, doctrines and teachings of the Church? People who do their best to get along in life; and pray and love God within the limitations of their capabilities? Do I know someone like that? Do I pray for them?

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

We have all had reason to mourn in our lives. We miss loved ones. When we miss someone it means that their absence has had a positive input in our lives; in our presence. Let us make sure we miss the people and not the good times and experiences we have had in our lives.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

Only if the greedy grabbing lot will let them inherit anything! These days, it seems, everyone is intent on looking after Number One first. It's all "Me ... Me ... Me ..." Am I one of those selfish people who cannot see poor Lazarus on my doorstep? Or that shy colleague at work? Or anyone else needing help but is too embarrassed to ask?

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

Righteousness? What is that? Surely what is right in my eyes would be wrong in someone else's point of view. And I'm always right after all! There are so many people doing bad things in the world today. Wrong things. Thankfully, I am not one of them!

Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

Are we always merciful? Do we really forgive the wrongs done to us? Or do we bear a grudge and look forwards to revenge, retribution and just punishment when the time is right? Does the wrong done to us gnaw within our hearts to the point that it is like drinking poison and hoping the other person will be harmed?

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

Pure of heart? What is that? Surely we all have some dark, or evil, or naughty thoughts and perhaps actions in our hearts! Lusting for someone or something. Envy. Greed. Jealousy. These are all natural emotions. Surely Jesus does not mean me specifically about this!

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

"I said peacemakers ... not cheese makers. Pay attention!" When there is a family argument, or some disagreement amongst friends or colleagues at work; do I immediately take sides? Do I think and weigh matters carefully before deciding on my position? Do I try to bring both sides closer together? Or do I act like a wedge between them separating both sides further apart?

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

There are many people in the world today persecuted and killed for just being Christian. Are they in my prayers and in my mind? Or are they too far away from my comfortable home for me to care?

There are many people standing up for righteousness. Speaking up for unfairness, injustice, poverty, evils and other wrongs in society. Where am I in this debate? I may not be able to stand up and join them physically but how do my daily actions compare with my beliefs? Is my behaviour one that God would be proud of?

The Holy Trinity

Today is Trinity Sunday, and I suspect that in many churches the priest, or minister or pastor, will try to explain this mystery of our faith. The Father, the Son and the Holy spirit - three in one.

Well, if we had an answer it would not be a mystery, would it? Our faith as Christians has many unexplained mysteries. Beliefs which we are asked to accept without proof or evidence. That's why it is called faith. To believe without understanding.

Let's see if amongst us we can understand a little about the Holy Trinity. I don't claim to have all the answers, or to be an authority on Christianity or hold any position in the church. It's just my way of thinking. Please let me know if you disagree or have other views or questions.

As I see it, since the times of the Old Testament the Jews believed in one God. Leaders like Abraham, Moses and David believed in one living God; only one Person. That's what they taught.

In those days there were other people who believed in many gods of course. The ancient Egyptians, the Romans, the Greeks, all had many gods.

So if God had revealed Himself to the Jews as three Persons in one, and assuming they understood this,  then the pagans would have thought that the Jews believed in three gods.

Later on, at the times of the New Testament, the apostles, who were Jews, believed from childhood that there was only one Person in God. That’s what they had learnt from the writings of the Old Testament prophets and that’s what they experienced in their lives.

They saw God’s hand in everything that happened. He was the God of Abraham, Moses and David. The God written about in history. The God up there in Heaven who gave them the moral law, (Commandments), and who created everything.

Then one day they met a Man named Jesus. For three years they lived with Him.

They soon realised that He was a different person to other people.

He spoke with authority and conviction, and all that He said made sense. 

He showed compassion for the sick, the destitute and those forgotten by society. He cared for the hungry and the poor and showed kindness for everybody.

He taught them about His Father who was God and claimed that He was the Son of God.

They saw Him perform many miracles. They saw Him die and then be resurrected again. This was not hearsay. They saw it. Time and again they saw Him after the Resurrection, spoke with Him and ate with Him.

It was impossible for them to think or talk about God without relating to Jesus. Many believed that He was indeed the Son of God.

When Jesus was taken up to Heaven after the Resurrection the disciples were distraught. He promised, to send them His Holy Spirit.

They may not have understood what He said at the time. But nine days later they experienced the Holy Spirit descending on them, and living within their souls.

Their eyes were opened and they believed, and understood, that He was the Third Person of God. He was the very Spirit of God. The soul of God, if you wish to see it this way.

To the early disciples, the Holy Spirit was real indeed. They had experienced the power of the Holy Spirit. They received Him at Pentecost in tongues of fire and they were able to speak to the crowds that gathered in different languages. Peter explained to the crowd that the disciples had received God's Holy Spirit.

The disciples, and early Christians, now knew for certain that the one and only living God they believed in, whom Abraham, Moses, and the prophets had spoken of, had sent His only Son Jesus to earth. Because they had met Jesus.

They also knew that Jesus had sent His Holy Spirit upon them, because they had experienced the Holy Spirit.

To them this was all a reality. Something they had seen, experienced and understood. Not some sort of puzzle of three in one yet each one separate from the three; or something they had read in an old scroll from the prophets.

Anyway ... that's how I understand the Holy Trinity. One living God. Sends us His Son so that we get to know Him personally. Then sends us His Holy Spirit to help us and guide us back to God in Heaven.

At The Vet

It’s that time of year again. I had to take the cat to the vet. Nothing serious of course, how could there be? This cat has nine lives and nine more to spare. He’s as agile and fit as can be with a brain as sharp as it could get and all too ready to plot against me and plan my downfall in my own domain.

If this cat was a politician he’d charm everyone so much that even his electoral opponent would vote for him. Fortunately he is a cat and no more than that … that’s what I keep convincing myself of. He is a cat whose only aim in life is to make mine miserable. He brings dead mice and birds in the house … a matter which I’ve complained about many times and I’ve been told that it’s only natural … He’s being friendly and wants to share his trophies with me. Well … thank you very much but I’m not interested. I’d rather he sticks to cat food like all civilised cats do.

I suppose I understand his instincts to prey on his victims and hunt them down … after all most politicians do that. But does he have to bring them into the house?

Anyway … back to my story before I got carried away! Figuratively speaking of course. I’m still sitting here relating my latest adventure. If I’d been literally carried away the story would have ended here and now. But it hasn’t. I hear some of you muttering “More’s the pity!” but that’s very unkind. After all I’m the victim here not the cat.

So I had to take him to the vet for his annual vaccinations. You know the kind … Immunisation against all sort of feline diseases and allergies appertaining to cats. Except being cunning, conniving, plotting and scheming … there’s no vaccinations for that apparently.

 First you have to put the cat in this small carrier cage especially designed for the purpose. Easier said than done … Have you ever seen one of those contraptions? They are small … cat sized actually … there’s no point in having a cage as big as a house is there? Difficult to carry for a start!

It’s a small box with a little door on the side. You open the door, put the cat in, and closed the door again. Simple … if the cat is willing to co-operate that is. It is dark in there and of course the cat is not interested is he? He’s had previous experience of that box. It always leads to the vet where bad things happen … as far as he’s concerned. And as far as I’m concerned too … have you seen how much the vet charges? His treatment costs more than the cat itself!

So I pick the cat … He hisses and struggles. He rolls round on his back to escape. He bares his teeth. He scratches for all he’s worth. He somehow manages to close the cage door just as I’m putting him in. The cage falls on the floor landing right on my foot. I jump and hobble in pain whilst the cat is permanently attached to my face with all claws drawn out like daggers. In my blind confusion I trip over the cage and land head first into the box of cat litter; whilst the cat escapes up a tree and laughs raucously at my misfortune.

Several attempts and First Aid plasters later the cat’s in the cage and we’re at the vet. And the same rigmarole starts again. The cat won’t come out of the cage. He wriggles and turns on the vet’s table. He runs up the curtains. We hunt him down and try to hold him still for a second or two whilst the vet prepares the injection. The cat hisses and scratches at the sight of the needle. I feel a sharp pain in my arm and all is over.

Now the vet did say that the injection is not harmful to humans … and the side effects are only temporary.

How could this be? If it’s not harmful then why have any side effects? Temporary or otherwise? In order to pacify me the vet agreed to waive the usual fee and asked me to come back next year without the cat.

The side effects of the injection are quite disturbing. I’ve noticed that recently I’ve started to lick my hands for no particular reason. I have an urge to climb trees and I sit purring happily at people when in public. It’s very embarrassing on crowded trains and buses … especially when I want to cuddle closely to people.

I went to see a psychiatrist. He said, “Get on the couch!” I told him I’m not allowed on the couch.

He gave me some red tablets to take once a day. I asked him what they do. He said “I don’t know. They’re samples I’ve received this morning and I’m trying them out on new patients!”

He asked me whether I get sudden headaches and pain on the knees. I said that I didn’t. He said that he’d had these symptoms for a week and couldn’t work out what it was.

He then gave me a saucer of milk and a piece of fish from his lunch box. He presented me with an invoice for $300. Can you imagine that? $300 for some milk and a piece of sardine sandwich!

That cured me instantly I tell you.

I said I’d report him to the Veterinary Society. He replied that he was not a vet.

“What business have you to treat a cat then?” I asked him directly.

He had no answer to that and he too agreed to waive his fee.

More cat stories in FELINE CATASTROPHES.

Paperback HERE

Kindle HERE

Market Research

Most organisations do it. Market Research. It is their way of finding out what the public thinks of their products or services.

I can't afford to hire a Market Research firm to do this for me. So I decided to do it for myself. I wrote down a few questions on my note pad and went to our local market to do some Market Research.

I wanted to know what people thought about my books. Many and varied as they are. Check them out HERE.

Some of my books are FREE do you know! The Kindle ones are very good value too. Or you might prefer the paperbacks.

Anyway, I asked people in our local market and to my dismay no one knew who I was, or the fact that I write books, or that I have a Blog.

Only one person thought he recognised me. He said, "Hello, I thought you emigrated to Australia, or was it New Zealand? Good to see you. Tell me, was it you who went to Australia or was it your lady friend?"

I kept my cool and replied, "Can't you tell the difference?"

"Frankly no," he said, "although I heard that Australia is bigger! Anyway, since you're here, then it must be her who went to Australia ... or New Zealand. She left you has she? Don't blame her. You were always a grumpy old git."

"She is not in Australia ... or New Zealand either, she is at home. My home ... our home. She has not left me. We are happy together." I said gritting my teeth.

"Oh pity ..." he said, "that means I got you and your lady friend mixed with someone else!"

"Do you know who I am?" I asked politely in exasperation.

"Yeah sure ..." he said, "you used to sell rotten vegetables from a stall here in the market."

I should point out that I never sold vegetables, rotten or otherwise, at any market place.

I nearly grabbed him by the lapels to shake him out of his misconception, but there was a policeman nearby. So I smiled and left.

And there you have it. My first Market Research was a failure.

How about you? What writings on this Blog do you like best? Humourous stories of dubious veracity, or Christian articles, or anything else? What sort of mix do you like in my articles? More of some genre and less of another?

How about my books? What do you think? Good, bad, indifferent?

Some of you, dear friends, have kindly left positive Customer Reviews on AMAZON about my books. To you and all my loyal supporters and readers - a BIG thank you.

God bless.

All God's Creatures

That's Life ... where I'm at

Well ... Here at home I am keeping as happy as I can be by cheering myself up.

I try to keep fit every day by using the treadmill as part of my daily routine as the doctor suggested. He said it will help me lose weight. As an extra incentive, I have fixed a little tray on the handle bars where I put some scones, cakes, and a milkshake or pint of Guinness.

I have also joined an on-line keep fit class. You link to this website and you see other people in their homes and also the "instructor". He does the exercises and you copy him. He and the other people can all see each other through their cameras. So they can all see me at home in front of my TV.

I bent, twisted, gyrated, jumped up and down, and perspired for an hour. But by the time I got my leotard on, the class was over. They told me I was very entertaining. I did not know the camera was switched on!!!

I mean ... how was I to know that as I was getting dressed in front of the TV the camera had switched on automatically and everyone could see me.

You should have seen the comments I received by text and e-mails from my "audience". The ladies in particular were the most embarrassing. My wife told me that no doubt someone would have videod my performance and it will be all over social media.

Perhaps I should not have borrowed my wife's leotard and exercised in T shirt and jeans instead. It was very tight in places. Or maybe I should have undressed and dressed elsewhere. I did not want to do it upstairs and wake up my wife.

When she came downstairs and saw me in her leotard she was livid. She said I looked like a flamingo standing in that pose in her pink bodysuit. So I put my foot down.

A little difficult to do in that hugging outfit which left little to the imagination.

She was also upset at my new found desire to keep fit. The previous day I had swapped our bed for a trampoline. She hit the roof.

She started crying for no reason. Then she said she missed her mother. I told her she should aim better. So she cried some more! No sense of humour, I guess.

She insisted we go see her Mom. I said we have her photo on the mantle piece, why not go and see that instead?

You should see that photo. She looks like a monster from the seventh circle of hell staring at you sitting there watching TV. I bet she would turn all the demons into quivering jellies wetting their diapers.

Anyway, I eventually consoled my wife and we went to bed/trampoline.

I had a good night's sleep. Woke up refreshed and eager for more. On some mornings though I wake up grumpy ... on others I let her sleep in and go down for breakfast by myself.

This morning I discovered our new puppy had eaten all the Scrabble tiles and left little messages around the house.

I cleaned up and started breakfast. I like Italian food ... don't you? We used to go to our favourite Italian restaurant in town. We've stopped now because their cook has pasta away!

I hear there's a new restaurant in town called Karma. They have no menus. You get what you deserve!

I put some corn flakes in a bowl and watched the news on TV. They said that a midget fortune-teller had escaped from prison. The headline was, "Small medium at large".

This happened when a prison van, with him and other prisoners on board, had collided with a lorry full of mixed concrete. The police are looking for some hardened criminals.

In another crime related story, it was reported that a hole had been found in the local nudist-camp wall. The police are looking into it.

They then entered the premises and interviewed a number of people airing their differences. The police believed that the members were withholding evidence, but the nudists insisted they had nothing to hide.

After the news, I changed channels. They were reporting on a local story not far from where I used to live.

Apparently, a driver was stopped by a police motorcycle for shooting through a red light. The driver starts swearing aggressively and calling the policeman all sorts of names. The policeman explained the offence and gave the driver a ticket. The driver continued swearing at him. The policeman puts "AH" at the corner of the ticket and gives it to the man.

The driver asks, "What's this AH in the corner of the ticket?"

"Oh ... it's to remind me that you're an a ... hole!" said the policeman.

In Court the driver hires a clever lawyer who asks the policeman, "Is this your writing on this ticket?"

The policeman confirms that it is. So the lawyer tries to trap him by asking, "What does AH mean?"

"It means aggressive and hostile," replies the policeman.

"Are you sure it does not mean a ... hole?" asks the lawyer.

"You probably know your client better than I do," says the policeman calmly.

After half an hour or so I heard the newspaper being delivered. I switched off the TV and had a read for a while. There's always a crime type story in the papers as well as on TV. What is the world coming to? Apparently this man had pick-pocketed a dwarf. How could he stoop so low?

I like to read the Court cases which are often reported in the press. After twenty-five years of marriage a man went to Court seeking a divorce because his wife keeps throwing things at him when angry: plates, cups, saucers, whatever is at hand she throws.

The judge asked him, "What took you so long to decide on divorce?"

He replied, "Her aim is getting better!"

Perhaps she should teach my wife.

I looked out of the window. There was an Automobile Rescue van parked outside our house. You know the ones? Those rescue vans that come out to help you when your car won't go. The driver was sobbing uncontrollably and looked very miserable. I thought to myself, "that guy’s heading for a breakdown".

At this point the door bell rang. It was our friend Mavis, she was distraught. I realised that by the fact that she was crying. Now normally I can't handle women crying. I mean ... what are you supposed to do? Say, "there ... there ... I'm sure it will be OK?"

How do I know if it will be OK or not?

Are you supposed to hug crying women to comfort them? What if they misunderstand your hug for something else?

Why do women cry at the most inopportune time ... when I'm around.

I thought of calling my wife down but she was fast asleep.

So I tried to cheer her up by telling her about our problems. People sometimes relate better when they share things.

I told her that the other day my wife asked me to pass her her lipstick; but I accidentally passed her a glue stick instead. She still isn't talking to me.

Mavis cried some more. I poured her a cup of tea and asked her what's wrong.

Apparently, she had put on her most revealing negligent and asked her husband, "What do you like most in me, my pretty face or my sexy body?" 

He looked her up and down and replied, "I like your sense of humour!"   

Now I ask you ... what's wrong with that? We should all have a sense of humour. I hope you like mine!

Which all reminds me of my grand-father's dying words as I sat beside his death bed.

"Remember these two words, son," he said, "they will open many doors for you in life!"

He then took a deep breath and said, "Push and Pull".

Does God exist to an atheist?

An atheist was spending a quiet day fishing in Scotland when suddenly his boat was attacked by the Loch Ness monster.

In a second the monster tossed him and his boat high into the air. Then it opened its mouth to swallow him. 

As the man fell head over heels, he cried out, "Oh, dear God! Help me please!" At once, the ferocious attack scene froze in place, and as the atheist hung in mid-air, a booming voice from above said, "I thought you didn't believe in Me!"

"Come on God, give me a break!!!" the man pleaded, "two minutes ago I didn't believe in the Loch Ness monster either!"

It seems to me to be fashionable these days to be an atheist. To proudly declare that you don't believe in God. We even have celebrity atheists over here. These are people who believe they are important enough to proffer an opinion on the non-existence of God.

They are usually musicians, singers, comedians, sportsmen, and even scientists. They are opinion-formers with a large fan base mainly due to their profession, and a big following on social media. And they seem to have decided that it is their mission on earth to tell everyone that God does not exist.

Of course, these people are entitled to their opinions and points of view. Is is their God-given right to choose to believe what they want.

I have always wondered what motivates these self-appointed prophets of unbelief. They have a massive following thanks to social media. One of them mentioned on TV that he has over 1 million "followers" of his tweets. They are famous for what they do; sing, tell jokes or their sporting prowess, and rightly so. Thus, when they pronounce against Christianity or the existence of God, their adulators are more likely to be influenced because of how famous and well-known they are.

But being a successful celebrity is one thing. To imply they're an authority on God and His non-existence is another matter altogether.

These people often use "science" as a catalyst for their argument. You see them on TV/radio or on social media arguing their corner effectively. They imply that if you don't agree with them suggests that you are ignorant or deficient in some way or other.

They seem to have formed an elite club owning the font of knowledge and as such they can influence vulnerable minds by using "reason" or even humour. One such "comedian" boasted on TV once that he does not believe in "an old bearded man living on a cloud". He got a laugh, and no doubt influenced someone somewhere in the process.

I wonder what it's like being an atheist. Being sure without a shadow of a doubt that God does not exist.

This in itself shows more faith than being a believer; since most believers have had their doubts and questions at some stage. They continue believing without proof. That's what faith is.

Atheists on the other hand are certain of their facts. They know God does not exist and that's final. Have you ever known an atheist doubt his beliefs?

I believe in God. He has proved His existence to me. But try as I can I will never be able to convince someone else that God exists.

This is a decision that everyone must make for themselves. They should take that first step in blind faith and dare to believe. That's all it takes. To dare to believe that God exists and in time God will make Himself known to you.

An atheist friend of mine said that if he were to meet God he'd ask Him why He allows so much suffering in the world. This is an argument often used by atheists; especially the celebrities I mentioned before. They claim that a loving God would not allow so much bad and so much evil and suffering in the world.

Their logic is skewed somewhat. For a start, if they are so revolted by the world's suffering, what are THEY doing to alleviate it?

But perhaps more pertinent is the argument that God in His wisdom has loved us so much that He has allowed us the luxury to decide for ourselves. To love Him back, or not. To believe in Him, or not. To cause and allow evil in this world, or not.

If God were to step in and stop all suffering in the world, and all evil, then He would be in effect interfering with the existing state of affairs. You can't have it both ways. Total freedom to do as you want, and an interfering God who steps in when it suits Him.

But try explaining this to an atheist. Especially a clever educated one.

It is said that hell is the complete absence of God. But if this is so, then how come there are many people who do not believe in God and yet they seem to be doing all right?

On the contrary, I personally believe that hell is being absolutely sure that God exists; knowing this  without any shadow of a doubt. Also knowing that God is love eternal; and then being in absolute absence of that love for eternity.

And one day, atheists too will witness God's everlasting love, and their wisdom in shutting themselves away from it.