Here's Another Prayer - Over and Out

 

I was on my knees praying the other day. I started by praying for my family, relatives, friends, acquaintances, colleagues, people in our church, and you my readers. I often pray for people by name, and if I know something about their needs I mention that too. 

Then God spoke to me.

He said, "There are over 7 billion people on earth, yet 90% of the prayers I receive are from you. Give it a rest will you and let someone else have a chance!"

Seriously, I think I've made my point. 

God likes to hear our prayers but He does not need a headache from us.

When we pray it is good to mention people we love who need our intercession. But God does not need us to repeat over and again the same prayer for each individual by name including their zip code. It is good to pray for other people. It shows a generosity of spirit on our part and an act of love towards someone else. At the very least, when we pray for someone we should have enough faith and trust that God will act in His own way, and in His own time, in accordance to His will, towards that individual and situation. 

He does not need us to tell Him what to do for each person in each circumstance they are in. You'd be surprised how many people wish to serve God in an advisory capacity. Thank you but no thanks; He knows what to do and does not need your advice.

Prayer in itself is a sign of faith. It shows that we believe there is Someone there listening to our petitions. Otherwise we're just talking to ourselves.

Christ taught us to start our prayer with the words "Our Father". Not our King, our Leader, Master, Emperor, Boss or similar title. This was to establish our relationship with God in prayer. It is similar to the relationship between a child and a loving parent.

The parent already knows our needs and will provide for them; yet he likes to hear from his children all the same.

There's nothing wrong in asking God for favours for ourselves and others. But we do so in expectation that He will respond. Not an impertinent entitled expectation; but a hopeful expectation that He knows  what is best for us and our loved ones.

Prayer is like a constant always open "chat" call to God. At any time of the day, whatever the circumstances, we turn our thoughts to Him and ask on behalf of someone in need. It only takes a second or two. I often pray silently when someone in conversation tells me of their problems. 

It's a two-way call to God. We need to listen to Him and not constantly talk so He can't get a word in edgeways! 

SUGGESTION: Every day, ask God to send you someone you can help. I did. He took me seriously and now I am inundated with people needing my help. 

PRAY MORE

PRAY BETTER

Side Bar

 

 

SEE WHAT YOU'VE BEEN MISSING 

 

WHICH IS YOUR FAVOURITE? 

Love? What love?

I was reading a letter the other day from a man named Paul to some friends of his in Corinth. Here’s what he says:

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.” 1 Corinthians 13:1-3.

Wow !!! That’s powerful stuff I thought. If we have Faith to move mountains yet have not love it counts for nothing. Even if we give all we own to the poor? I’m not so sure about the burning body bit; but this man is over the top I tell you.

Let’s see what Jesus has to say about this. Better go to the expert, I always say.

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbour as yourself.” Matthew 22:37-39.

What?

Presumably by neighbour Jesus means everyone around us. The whole of humanity. That's a big ask I tell you!

Some people are just not lovable. He created them so He should know. 

Like the guy driving that big van this morning and keeping a distance of just three inches from the back of my car? And hooting his horn time and again even though I was driving within the speed limit. Perhaps he was in a hurry to go to the toilet !

Or like that obnoxious pompous boss at work who seems to delight in making everyone suffer?

Are we supposed to love such people?

Jesus goes on to say:

"But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you." Luke 6:27-31.

This is way too much love I tell you. 

And there I was thinking that going to Heaven is a matter of ticking the right boxes:

Baptism? Done that. Tick.

Go to church on Sundays? Done that. Tick.

A few more ticks here and there and my passport and visa are ready for me to enter Heaven !!!

On reflection, being a Christian is much more difficult than it seems at first.

"Not everyone who calls me 'Lord, Lord' will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but only those who do what my Father in Heaven wants them to do." Matthew 7:21.

In other words – There are no parrots in Heaven. 

I'll never understand women

 

I have mentioned it before, the fact is, I will never understand women.

Louise is a friend of ours. She’s single and she is very beautiful. She lives not far from us.

I watched her as she got home from work this evening. I was surprised when she walked across the street, up our driveway and knocked on our door.

I opened the door, she looked at me and said, "I just got home, and I have this strong urge to have a good time, get drunk, and have fun tonight. Are you doing anything?"

I was surprised at this overt suggestion. I replied hesitantly, "Nope, I’m free!"

"Great" she said, "Can you watch my dog?"

I mean ... what if we were going out this evening? Who would have baby-sat her dog?

Here's another example. In London a few days ago, I was walking towards the railway station on my way home, when this woman stops me in the street and said, "Do you want a good time?"

I must have misheard her because I said, "It's quarter past seven!" 

She replied, "Thanks for nothing" and walked away.

What was all that about? I don't understand. 

And another example about women ... last week I helped a woman from our Prayer Group mow the lawn because she'd hurt her leg and could not do it herself. When I finished she said with a smile, "I could marry you!"

I couldn't believe it! You do something nice for someone and they threaten to ruin your life for ever.

My wife is just as enigmatic.  It was very strange. It was about 11:30 pm last Wednesday night. It was very dark outside when suddenly she shouted, "Golf ... Golf ... Golf ... That's all you speak about. That's all you do. Golf ... Always golf!"

I tell you. It was out of the blue, and I was startled out of my life. I never expected to see her on the golf course at that time of night shouting at the top of her voice.

I never complain about her and her habits. I could be watching something serious on TV like a political program when she would say, "we used to have a car like this one, do you remember?"

And she'd expect an answer, by which time I would have missed the point that politician was making.

Or I could be watching a documentary and they show a country somewhere ... say Canada for instance ... and she'd say "Justin Bieber is from Canada ... so is Shania Twain ..."

Well, that information certainly enriched my life, don't you think? By the time I digested and ignored this ground-breaking piece of non-information I have missed once again what they were saying on TV.

On my birthday she bought me two silk ties. We were going out for a meal so I decided to wear one of them. As soon as she saw me she said, "What's wrong with the other one?"

At the restaurant there were a young couple sitting a few tables away. It was obvious they were still in the early phase of love. 

My wife looked at them and said, "Just look at that couple over there, how lovely they are. He keeps holding her hand, kissing it softly. He held the chair for her when they sat at table. He caresses her arm every now and then. Why can’t you do the same?"

I replied, "Are you mad? I barely know that woman!"

I got the silent treatment throughout our meal.

As I said, I'll never understand women!

Not for the ladies

 

 

THIS POST IS NOT FOR LADIES

OR PEOPLE WHO ARE EASILY OFFENDED

 

I was at a business conference held in a hotel up North. At the same time as our conference there was a clowns gathering. There were clowns from all over the country there. All dressed in their circus costume in bright colours and most of them with red noses, painted faces, and orange, or blue or green hair.

In short, the place was full of clowns holding their own annual gathering. 

I went to the Gents Restroom. There was a clown there holding a small dog and wearing those very long oversized shoes for comedic effect. You know the ones ... those shoes long at the front which allow you to lean forwards well out of the centre of gravity yet you do not fall on your face.

When I got in he asked me if I could hold his small dog so he could "point Percy at the porcelain" as they say in my circles.

I held the dog; but just as he approached the urinal he discovered that he was quite a distance away from it in order to do his business. He tried to lean forwards but that only brought his head near the receptacle, not his ...

He tried to twist his feet sideways, looking like a pregnant duck, so that he could approach nearer, but that did not help either.

He looked at me in despair as if to say "I REALLY must go ... can't hold it any longer."

I suggested he takes his shoes off. He said he could not do that because somehow they were attached to a contraption up his trouser legs which allowed him to lean forwards out of the centre of gravity. They were not ordinary shoes but a whole contraption fitting round his legs and feet.

I suggested he "goes like a lady" by sitting down in one of the cubicles. 

That did not work either because with his big feet the cubicle door would not shut. 

If he sat on the throne with the door open he'd be in full view of everyone ... and the dog. 

Also, the cubicle was not wide enough for him to turn round if he went in facing forwards. So he backed into the cubicle. That did not work either because he discovered that his one piece costume would mean he has to get totally undressed. He'd only just met me ... remember. We were not friends or anything like that for him to disrobe in my presence! Besides, it would scandalise the dog seeing him naked.

Just at this moment some colleague of mine came in.

He looked at me, then the clown, then the dog, then at me and said nothing. He did his business.

I stopped him from leaving and explained the problem. 

He thought for a moment and then came up with the most ludicrous idea you could think of. 

He suggested that the two of us pick up the clown, turn him upside down, and slowly bring him closer to the urinal so he can do his business.

Picture the scene. Two men in business suits, pick up a clown with big feet and turn him upside down, they slowly and in unison approach the bowl, whilst he opens his zipper and gets relief.

I put the dog on the ground. Pushed a chair behind the door so that the small dog does not escape if anyone comes in.

We picked up the clown. As we got him in position upside down he said he was ticklish and started wriggling and laughing like a live eel chasing its partner. 

He slipped through our fingers and fell with a bump on his head. His laughter turned to cries just as the loudspeaker on the wall called me and my colleague back to the Conference Hall.

We ran out of the Gents Restroom and left him there with his dog. I did not want to get caught manhandling a clown bursting for a wee!

Now that's a sentence I never thought I'd hear myself say:  I did not want to get caught manhandling a clown bursting for a wee!

Later on I saw him in the car park with his dog. He was still holding it ... the dog!

The Invisible Spiritual World

 

Christian Questions

 

 

AMAZON LINK HERE

Church Council Meeting

 

Hello everyone and thank you for attending this church council meeting ... Alleluia and all that!

Now then ... the first item on the agenda I would like to bring to your attention is the parking situation on Sundays.

As you know, we have a small car park at the front of the church, and a much larger one at the back. Could I ask you please when you arrive to church on Sunday to first try to find a parking place at the small front car park. If by parking there you are blocking the entrance to the car park then please park at the larger car park at the back of the church.

Please be careful of any stray sheep that may come into the large car park from the fields beyond our property. 

If you attend the 8:00 am Mass on Sunday morning we would ask you to hurry up and go home quickly after Mass rather than dilly-dally and chat in the car park; or go to the church hall for a cup of tea and a biscuit. 

This is because you still being here after the 8:00 am Mass interferes with the commencement of the 9:15 am Mass; with cars from both car parks leaving at the same time as other  newcomers arrive for the 9:15 am Mass. This causes congestion in both car parks as well as the surrounding streets where cars are parked which have not been parked in either car parks. Also, beware of non-Catholic sheep which may wander into the car park at either Mass times. 

Some parishioners have complained privately that Father Onto Long goes on and on with interminable sermons. The other week, when he started his sermon there was a young newly married couple sitting in the front pew. By the time he finished his sermon they were playing with their grand-children.

I have to report that there have been complaints as to the number of church collections we have at Mass every Sunday. Personally, I don't think three collections are too many ... it is one thing we Catholics do well.

May I remind you please, especially if you have visited the many casinos in town, not to put your casino chips in the collection plate when it comes round. This causes confusion to our church treasurer, Mr Banks, who has to separate all the casino chips and send them to the nearby monastery where they are sorted and taken to the respective casinos to be cashed in. This job is done at the monastery by chip monks.

Now let me turn to the forthcoming Garden Fete to raise money for the Bishop's Maintenance Fund. I did not know he was falling apart; but then when you consider his age some things must be getting a little loose by now!

Anyway ... the first item to mention is the Bingo Stand ... or Lotto ... another Catholic speciality. May I remind you Mr Tom Bola not to call out the numbers in Latin to ensure that only Catholics win. This is hardly fair to our friends from the Churches Ecumenical Fraternity. After all, this is our only yearly opportunity to get some money out of them so let's give them a fighting chance.

On a similar vein, Miss Dollie Parson, may I remind you that last year's naming of the doll competition was a little unfair. Who could have possibly guessed that the doll was named Agape after a Saint of that name? Admittedly, the previous year naming the doll Mary resulted in 237 winners guessing the name correctly; but choosing Agape is far way on the other side of the scale of possibilities. Let's give the non-Catholics a chance to win.

And whose idea was it to hide a brick inside the cake for the guess the weight of the cake contest? Was it you Mrs Mortar?

And another thing, let us not repeat last year's experience with the Lucky Dip barrel. The idea is for people to put their hand into the barrel full of saw dust and retrieve a small prize which will make them happy. Hiding in the barrel bones from half-eaten KFC dinners was totally in bad taste ... 

We believe it is the same person who filled whoopee cushions with chocolate cream and left them lying around in the tea room for guests to sit on.

Regarding the bric-à-brac stall, the idea is to sell unwanted items which you believe people would love and cherish in their homes ... things like objets d'art, curios, elaborately decorated teacups and small vases, compositions of feathers or flowers under glass domes, decorated eggshells, porcelain figurines, painted miniatures or photographs in stand-up frames, and so on. 

It does NOT include selling your mother-in-law ... or your second-hand car ... or your half-eaten pizza which you no longer want. Let's take this seriously folks and bring to the stall things that people with no taste would wish to buy.

There being no other matter on the agenda, I declare this meeting closed.

And the moral is ...

 

Once upon a time there was a priest. After reading the Gospel at Sunday Mass he approached the lectern and said to the congregation, "You have heard today's Gospel. Now do you know what I am going to preach about?"

Expecting him to talk about the subject of the Gospel they replied "Yes!"

Then the priest said, "In that case there's no point in me preaching to you, is there?" And he continued with the Mass and gave no sermon. This annoyed some in the congregation who expected a sermon each Sunday to set them up for the week.

The following Sunday, again after reading the Gospel he approached the lectern and said, "You have heard today's Gospel. Now do you know what I am going to preach about?"

This time, without exception, they all said "No!"

The priest replied, "Neither do I", and continued with the Mass and no sermon.

The congregation were irritated and complained. Some wrote to the bishop.   

The following Sunday, again the priest asked, "You have heard today's Gospel. Now do you know what I am going to preach about?"

Some members of the congregation said "Yes!" and others said "No!" 

The priest responded, "Let those who know what I'll speak about tell those who do not know!" and he continued with Mass and no sermon.

This time, because of many complaints to the bishop, the bishop had no option but to call the priest in for a talk. 

Somewhat pensively the old priest explained that he could no longer remember what to say in his sermons, and even though he prepared sermons in writing, he often forgot to bring his written sermons to church, which meant he had no sermon to deliver.

The Bishop sympathized with the elderly colleague and said: “Here's something you could try. Next time you have to give a sermon say in a loud voice ‘I have an announcement to make!’

“This will ensure you have everyone’s attention. They will hang on to your every word.

“Then say just as loudly ‘I have fallen in love with a woman’.

“Now this will certainly have them all listening very carefully and remembering your every word.

“And then calmly tell them about the Virgin Mary, and all the good she did for us. It will be easy. Just speak from the heart of your love for Our Lady”.

The old priest was overjoyed and the following Sunday he stood proudly at the lectern and said loudly:

“I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!”

And sure enough everyone sat up in their pews to listen very carefully. The old priest then continued just as loudly:

“THE BISHOP HAS FALLEN IN LOVE WITH A WOMAN …”

As the congregation stirred in their seats the old priest went on:

“I can’t for the life of me remember her name …”

 

AND THE MORAL OF THE STORY IS: No ... I'll let you decide on the moral. But first ...

 

CLICK HERE

Talking with my subconscious

 

Me: Hmmm … I have a few days free right now and maybe I should …

Subconscious: Oh good … we’re going on holiday!

Me: Holiday? No … of course not.

Sub: But, we haven’t been on holiday for sometime.

Me: Yes we did … we went to the seaside for the weekend two years ago … that was nice!

Sub: Wasn’t it just? OK … what will you do with your free days?

Me: Well, I was intending to plan …

Sub: Oh no … not more plans. You’re always planning something; and writing documents, and filing all sorts of bits of paper. It’s your need to be in control of everything. Always planning! Why can’t you let things be? Surprise yourself. Be instantaneous. Let things happen for a change, without any plans and schedules. What is it you’re planning this time?

Me: Well … my funeral, as it happens.

Sub: What?

Me: My funeral.

Sub: Are you feeling well? No aches and pains I should know about? Apart from your brain that is! What’s brought on the sudden need to plan your funeral?

Me: Well … It helps get things organized … you know … when the time comes. It saves the bother and worry for those left behind to have to sort things out.

Sub: But … the whole purpose of dying is to get others to sort things out. It gives them something to do and stops them moping around with miserable faces.

Me: It would be nice to organize the funeral service in church. My favourite readings … favourite hymns …

Sub: Oh no … not those sad hymns. What is it with people and sad hymns at funerals? Why not sing something cheerful?

Me: Like what?

Sub: Like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang or Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Maybe people would like to sing those at your funeral rather than your sad hymns.

Me: But people always have mournful songs at funerals.

Sub: Don’t they just? And what is it with that Whitney Houston song from the movies? What’s it called? And I will always love you. With that very long elongated … "I eeeee" which goes on and on before singing "will always love you". What’s all that about?

Me: It’s sad. It depicts the love people have for the person who has died.

Sub: What nonsense. If you really love someone you tell them so when they’re alive. When they’re with you. And you show that love through the way you treat them. Not tell them all about it when they’re dead … When it is too late.

Me: You have a point there …

Sub: I always do. Take my advice. Forget about planning your funeral and go and show your love for somebody.

Me: How well put …

Sub: And another thing … you’re a pain in the neck … working your way South!

 

******* 

 

NOTES: I don't know about your TV but over here we have a lot of depressing adverts about funeral planning, cremations, and how it is better and more responsible to plan ahead for your departure so that your family don't have to bother ... or care. This must be very sad and worrying for many viewers.

 

There seems to be too many adverts with a negative sombre tone; like adverts for care homes, senior citizens sheltered housing, end of life planning and will writing, mobility scooters and so on. Meanwhile, adverts for foods, luxury cars, holidays and cruises always feature young people with families enjoying all that is good in life. You never see ads showing elderly folks with skin that needs ironing in their swimsuits on the beach. It's always the young and beautiful. (Thinks: keep young and beautiful, if you want to be loved.)

 

What's wrong about a photo of me in my swimsuit?

 

I lost my shoe

 

 

I LOST MY SHOE

 

translated into English from

 

 Bizet's "Carmen" Act 1 

 

"L'amour est un oiseau rebelle." 

 

Habanera

 

A plea to women everywhere

 

I so wish women would speak clearly and say what's on their mind. I really can't guess what the problem is can I? I'm not Einstein. 

My wife left a note stuck on the fridge door. It said, "It's not working. I can't take it any more. I'm going to my Mom."

I opened the fridge door and the light came on. The beer was cold and my pizza left-overs was still edible. What did she mean "It's not working"?

I rang her and got the silent treatment. I never understood the silent treatment. Why is not on when there's football on TV?

I spoke to my mother-in-law instead. I won't repeat what she said here.

The long way home

 

I went to the green grocers about a mile or so from our house. I bought some apples, some pears, some potatoes and some carrots. They were quite heavy. About two kilos each of apples, pears and carrots and three kilos of potatoes.

The green grocer put them in a plastic bag which I carried back home. It was a long walk with all that weight.

Then suddenly the bag burst under all this weight and there were apples, pears, potatoes and carrots all over the ground.

How do I carry them home, I thought, I can't leave them there. I might be caught on security cameras and accused of throwing litter in the street. Then genius struck. It won't be said I am not resourceful or inventive.

I took off the shoe laces from my boots and tied them very tight round the legs of my trousers; just above the ankles.

Then I put the fruits and vegetables down my trousers. I put them in from the waist.

When they were all tucked in my trouser legs I tightened my belt even more so as not to lose my trousers and held on to them by putting my hands in my pockets.

My legs were swollen by the weight of the fruits and vegetables therein.

I started my walk back home. It was like walking in the sea with water up to my waist. Very slow and very tiring.

Because I had no shoe laces I risked losing my boots if I lifted my feet up.

So I slid one foot a few inches forward; then slid the other foot next to it, then slid my foot a little further forward again, and slid my other foot near it.

Because my legs were swollen to more than twice their original size; the sliding forward was done in a semi-circle fashion rather than straight ahead as you would expect.

This walking, or sliding forward a few inches at a time, with my hands in my pockets was quite tiring, I tell you.

Everyone was watching me and wondering what was wrong with me. People coming up ahead towards me, suddenly stopped and crossed the road on the other side. They did not want to meet me in case my swollen legs syndrome was catching.

Others wondered why I had my hands in my pockets and shouted obscenities at me.

Cars nearly bumped into each other as they stopped to look at me rather than the way ahead.

Some drivers wound their windows down and shouted something unrepeatable here.

I eventually got home. My wife was not impressed by my ingenuity at carrying the fruits and vegetables home when I took off my trousers revealing all.

You are the light of the world

 

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:14-16

What did Jesus mean about us being a light of the world?

We all have a Christ given mission to go and preach the Good News of God to everyone. Christianity is not a "just for me" religion.

"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28:19-20

We live in a secular world and it is therefore incumbent upon us to spread some Christian light wherever and whenever we can. By the way we live, the way we act, and even by the way we use social media and our Blogs. A short article every now and then would go a long way in lighting up a dark and often cynical World Wide Web.

But wait a minute. Jesus also said, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." John 8:12

In truth, Jesus is the light of the world not us. We are here to reflect His glory and His teachings. Very much like the moon. It does not by itself generate light; but it reflects the light of the sun.

Do you remember in days of old bicycles had a little red reflector at the back underneath the seat? It did not shine light. But when a car came behind you with its lights on the reflector would glow red and warn the driver of your presence.

Likewise, our reflectors should be bright and clean to shine for all to see. A reflector which becomes dirty with sin is of no use at all at being the light of the world. 

Psychiatric Dilemma

 

A psychiatrist friend of mine went to see a psychiatrist. Now that is not the same as a doctor seeing a doctor. When a doctor is not well, he goes to see another doctor and explains the symptoms and the diagnosis he arrived at. Then he asks the other doctor if he agrees and whether a specialist's opinion is in order.

Not so with psychiatrists. With them it is all in the mind. As someone once said: If someone thinks he needs to see a psychiatrist he should have his head examined.

Anyway, this psychiatrist friend of mine went to see a psychiatrist. As he entered his insulting room he said, "Help me doctor. People keep ignoring me."

The insulting psychiatrist said, "Who said that?"

"Me," replied the first psychiatrist seeking an opinion, "I said people keep ignoring me and my psychiatrist advice. What should I do?"

"Join them," said the second psychiatrist.

"Is that really your advice?" asked my friend. "To let people ignore me?"

"Who said that?" said the insulting psychiatrist.

"Me ... I just said it," replied my friend.

"Oh do forgive me," said the other psychiatrist, "I have lost my hearing aid and I can't hear you properly."

"Let me help you find it," said my friend helpfully.

"Oh ... thank you. I have looked here everywhere and could not find it!"

"When and where did you last remember seeing it ... or hearing it?" asked my friend.

"Oh ... it was at home this morning. I must have lost it there!"

"You lost it at home?" asked my friend, "why did you search for it here then?"

"Oh ... the lighting in my insulting room is much better than at home. So I thought I'm more likely to find it here!"

"But shouldn't you be looking at home?" insisted my friend.

"Not really," replied the second psychiatrist, "I know exactly where it went. It fell in my corn flakes this morning and I must have swallowed it!"

"You swallowed your hearing aid?" repeated my friend.

"Yes I did ..." replied the other psychiatrist, "now I hear everything as if it was faint and coming from within a cave. And whenever I break wind I answer myself!"

"So you can still hear with the hearing aid within you?" asked my friend.

"That's right," said the other psychiatrist, "what do you say to that?"

"This too shall pass!" replied my friend.

"I hope so," said the other psychiatrist, "in the meantime I have to ask people to talk to me through my navel! Now what can I do for you?"

"Oh ... nothing," said my friend, "I've just been healed. You are the first person not to ignore me and listen!"

"Who said that?" asked the insulting psychiatrist.