Midweek Mirth

One of the misconceptions about being a Christian is non-Christians think we don’t know how to have fun or have a sense of humor. Trust me, if the Big Guy can have a sense of humor when it comes to dealing with us mere mortals, so can we.

The difference for Christians is we don’t have to debase ourselves or others to generate a smile. Laughter at life or ourselves is a gift from God.

It’s time for some Midweek Mirth so let’s smile a little!

Brief Ponderations

Some people aren’t shaking hands because of coronavirus. I’m not shaking hands because everyone is out of toilet paper.

If Jesus were a virus, would you test “positive”?

You know you are bored when the most pleasurable thing you can look forward to is the next time you must go to the kitchen to take your medicine.

You can tell you are OLD when you go to your medicine container to see what day it is instead of hunting the calendar. I went to mine to also take my pills and saw the first full section was labeled “T”. I knew that stood for “tomorrow” so I waited.

The word “queue” is ironic. It’s just a “q” with a bunch of silent letters waiting in a line.

When will all the rhetorical questions end?

 And now for the bonus …

Learning from Experience

A funeral service was being held for a woman who has just passed away. At the end of the service the pall bearers were carrying the casket out when they accidentally bumped into a wall, jarring the casket. They heard a faint moan and opened the casket to find the woman was actually still alive! She lived for 10 more years and then finally died.

A funeral was again held at the same place and at the end of the ceremony the pall bearers were again carrying out the casket. As they were walking, the husband cries out, “Watch the wall!”

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: A well-balanced person is one who finds both sides of an issue laughable. — Herbert Procknow

About wisdomfromafather

I'm just an ordinary guy walking along the journey of life.
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2 Responses to Midweek Mirth

  1. Actually, a wellbalanced person has a can of beer in each hand.

    Where the best is like the worst,
    that is my Nirvana;
    better angels slake their thirst
    in the bars of Old Havana.
    Wilder women, warm dark eyes
    beneath their raven tresses
    bid propriety goodbye
    in their low-slung dresses
    that draw the Che Guevara crowd,
    and the men from unknown places
    and the locals (with heads bowed)
    to sample all the rough-hewn graces
    like bell-rings to an opened door:
    “Your hat is on, you buy, senor!”

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