I’ve seen some of these before, but most are new to me. I hope you get a chuckle out of these – Rick

THE FAMILY FEUD

A classic set of answers…

Here are some actual answers from contestants who have appeared on the game show Family Feud (Family Fortunes in the UK):

Name something a blind person might use: a sword

Name a song with moon in the title: blue suede moon

Name a bird with a long neck: a penguin

Name an occupation where you need a torch: a burglar

Name a famous brother and sister: Bonnie and Clyde

Name an item of clothing worn by the Three Musketeers: a horse

Name something that floats in the bath: water

Name something you wear on the beach: a deck chair

Name something red: my cardigan

Name a famous cowboy: Buck Rogers

Name a famous royal: mail

Name a number you have to memorize: 7

Name something you do before going to bed: sleep

Name something you put on walls: roofs

Name something in the garden that’s green: a scarecrow

Name something that flies that doesn’t have an engine: dishes

Name something you might be allergic to: skiing

Name a famous bridge: the bridge over troubled waters

Name something a cat does: goes to the toilet

Name a continent: Italy

Name something you do in the bathroom: decorate

Name an animal you might see at the zoo: a dog

Name something slippery: a con man

Name a kind of ache: a pancake

Name a food that can be brown or white: potato

Name a potato topping: jam

Name a famous Scotsman: Jock

Another famous Scotsman: Vinnie Jones

Name something with a hole in it: window

Name a non-living object with legs: plant

Name a domestic animal: leopard

Name a part of the body beginning with ‘N’: knee

Name a way of cooking fish: cod

Name something you clean: your sister

Since we moved the newsletter to this blog, I’m passing on this issue of Max Lucado’s Upwords devotional. I thought this one was really good. Enjoy!

(As always with copyrighted material, I have permission to reprint Max’s articles. – Rick)

The Woodcutter’s Wisdom

by Max Lucado

Once there was an old man who lived in a tiny village. Although poor, he was envied by all, for he owned a beautiful white horse. Even the king coveted his treasure. A horse like this had never been seen before—such was its splendor, its majesty, its strength.

People offered fabulous prices for the steed, but the old man always refused. “This horse is not a horse to me,” he would tell them. “It is a person. How could you sell a person? He is a friend, not a possession. How could you sell a friend?” The man was poor and the temptation was great. But he never sold the horse.

One morning he found that the horse was not in the stable. All the village came to see him. “You old fool,” they scoffed, “we told you that someone would steal your horse. We warned you that you would be robbed. You are so poor. How could you ever hope to protect such a valuable animal? It would have been better to have sold him. You could have gotten whatever price you wanted. No amount would have been too high. Now the horse is gone, and you’ve been cursed with misfortune.”

The old man responded, “Don’t speak too quickly. Say only that the horse is not in the stable. That is all we know; the rest is judgment. If I’ve been cursed or not, how can you know? How can you judge?”

The people contested, “Don’t make us out to be fools! We may not be philosophers, but great philosophy is not needed. The simple fact that your horse is gone is a curse.”

The old man spoke again. “All I know is that the stable is empty, and the horse is gone. The rest I don’t know. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, I can’t say. All we can see is a fragment. Who can say what will come next?”

The people of the village laughed. They thought that the man was crazy. They had always thought he was a fool; if he wasn’t, he would have sold the horse and lived off the money. But instead, he was a poor woodcutter, an old man still cutting firewood and dragging it out of the forest and selling it. He lived hand to mouth in the misery of poverty. Now he had proven that he was, indeed, a fool.

After fifteen days, the horse returned. He hadn’t been stolen; he had run away into the forest. Not only had he returned, he had brought a dozen wild horses with him. Once again the village people gathered around the woodcutter and spoke. “Old man, you were right and we were wrong. What we thought was a curse was a blessing. Please forgive us.”

The man responded, “Once again, you go too far. Say only that the horse is back. State only that a dozen horses returned with him, but don’t judge. How do you know if this is a blessing or not? You see only a fragment. Unless you know the whole story, how can you judge? You read only one page of a book. Can you judge the whole book? You read only one word of a phrase. Can you understand the entire phrase?

“Life is so vast, yet you judge all of life with one page or one word. All you have is a fragment! Don’t say that this is a blessing. No one knows. I am content with what I know. I am not perturbed by what I don’t.”

“Maybe the old man is right,” they said to one another. So they said little. But down deep, they knew he was wrong. They knew it was a blessing. Twelve wild horses had returned with one horse. With a little bit of work, the animals could be broken and trained and sold for much money.

The old man had a son, an only son. The young man began to break the wild horses. After a few days, he fell from one of the horses and broke both legs. Once again the villagers gathered around the old man and cast their judgments.

“You were right,” they said. “You proved you were right. The dozen horses were not a blessing. They were a curse. Your only son has broken his legs, and now in your old age you have no one to help you. Now you are poorer than ever.”

The old man spoke again. “You people are obsessed with judging. Don’t go so far. Say only that my son broke his legs. Who knows if it is a blessing or a curse? No one knows. We only have a fragment. Life comes in fragments.”

It so happened that a few weeks later the country engaged in war against a neighboring country. All the young men of the village were required to join the army. Only the son of the old man was excluded, because he was injured. Once again the people gathered around the old man, crying and screaming because their sons had been taken. There was little chance that they would return. The enemy was strong, and the war would be a losing struggle. They would never see their sons again.

“You were right, old man,” they wept. “God knows you were right. This proves it. Your son’s accident was a blessing. His legs may be broken, but at least he is with you. Our sons are gone forever.”

The old man spoke again. “It is impossible to talk with you. You always draw conclusions. No one knows. Say only this: Your sons had to go to war, and mine did not. No one knows if it is a blessing or a curse. No one is wise enough to know. Only God knows.”

The old man was right. We only have a fragment. Life’s mishaps and horrors are only a page out of a grand book. We must be slow about drawing conclusions. We must reserve judgment on life’s storms until we know the whole story.

I don’t know where the woodcutter learned his patience. Perhaps from another woodcutter in Galilee. For it was the Carpenter who said it best:

“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.” (Matthew 6:34)

He should know. He is the Author of our story. And he has already written the final chapter.

From
Come Thirsty
Copyright (Thomas Nelson, 2004) Max Lucado