The Borrowed Book
Stories
Object:
Contents
What's Up This Week
"The Borrowed Book" by Argile Smith
"The Tie" by Craig Kelly
What's Up This Week
We often hear around Christmas that, "It is better to give than to receive." However, in our world, there can be many more takers than givers the rest of the year. Yet, giving still has many benefits, especially in our relationship with God. He has given us everything, even our very breath, but it is so easy to begin to claim that gift as our own, not realizing that God gives to us so we can give to him. Argile Smith explains in "The Borrowed Book." While it is essential to give to God, it is also important to give to one another. In "The Tie," Craig Kelly tells the story of a man who, though he thought he had nothing to give, found that he still had a gift to give. In his act of giving, he gained a great reward.
* * * * * * * * *
The Borrowed Book
By Argile Smith
Genesis 22:1-14
Lonnie and Dennis were good friends who enjoyed collecting books. Their friendship grew across the years as they spent countless hours each week searching for rare books at rummage sales, antique galleries, and used-book stores. Talking about the treasures they had discovered was fun, too.
One day Lonnie asked Dennis if he could borrow one literary treasure in particular. Lonnie wanted to read it whenever he had some spare time, so having it nearby would be convenient for him. Of course, Dennis let him borrow the book. He had no doubt that his friend would return it in just the same condition that he had borrowed it.
When Lonnie took the book to his house, he intentionally placed it on the desk in his library. He wanted to make sure that it stayed in a separate place so it wouldn't get lost somewhere in his vast collection that crowded the corners as well as the shelves of the room.
That's where Dennis' book stayed for a long time. Days turned into weeks which turned into months before Lonnie actually picked up the book to read it. After he finished reading it, however, he placed the book on a shelf that had been designated for books by the same author. He wanted to move it from his desk so he could make room for another volume that he had secured. As he placed the book on the shelf, he told himself that he would return it to Lonnie as soon as possible.
As you can imagine, Lonnie forgot about the book being on his shelf. Dennis never asked about it, which further enabled the book to disappear from Lonnie's memory.
Time passed, and Lonnie's sister, Sherry, came for her yearly visit. Always intrigued by the fact that her brother was a bona fide bibliophile, she liked to go to his ever-growing library to see which volumes had been added, and he enjoyed showing her what he had found. This visit would be no different. He escorted her to his library to show off his new treasures.
As his eyes combed the shelves in search of new acquisitions, he spotted the book he had borrowed from Lonnie. But as he told Sherry about the book's sentimental as well as re-sale value, he left out the important detail that the book didn't really belong to him.
For some reason, he had come to believe that he actually owned the book. Perhaps he had fallen prey to the legal notion that possession was nine-tenths of the law. He possessed the book, and it had remained on his shelf for quite a long time. Besides, Dennis hadn't asked him to return it. Therefore, he reasoned, he could now lay claim to the book. In reality, however, it always belonged to his friend. No amount of rationalization could ever change that significant fact.
The fact of true ownership turned out to haunt Lonnie in due time. One day Dennis surprised him by asking him to return the book. He told Lonnie that he wanted to pass it along to his granddaughter so she could read it.
At first, Lonnie wanted to argue that the book now belonged to him since it had been resting on his shelf so long. But he held his tongue because the fact of real ownership couldn't be denied.
Of course, he promptly returned the book and apologized to Dennis for not doing it sooner. Dennis reacted with a measure of astonishment on his face and said, "Lonnie, I knew that you had the book and that you would return it when I asked for it."
Isaac belonged to God, not to Abraham. The ordeal at Moriah had to do with returning what Abraham treasured to the original owner (Genesis 22:1-14). Likewise, each of us belongs to God. Giving ourselves to Him may be difficult, but it's necessary. The fact of true ownership cannot be denied (Romans 6:12-23).
Argile Smith is vice president for advancement at William Carey University in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. He previously served at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary (NOBTS) as a preaching professor, chairman of the Division of Pastoral Ministries, and director of the communications center. While at NOTBS, Smith regularly hosted the Gateway to Truth program on the FamilyNet television network. He has also been the pastor of several congregations in Louisiana and Mississippi. Smith's articles have been widely published in church periodicals, and he is the author or editor of four books.
The Tie
By Craig Kelly
Matthew 10:40-42
This was the hardest part. One would think that after doing this so many times, it would become automatic. But he still had to talk himself through it.
"Fat end over skinny... fat end up and through... fat end -- is it the fat or skinny end, now -- fat, yes, fat end over to the left...."
"Come on, honey! We're going to be late, and you know there's always a huge line!"
"I know, dear, I know, just give me a minute, okay?"
She yelled again from outside the room. "You're tying that tie, aren't you?"
"No!" he yelled before thinking about it. Grimacing, he finally yelled, "Yes," although slightly quieter than before.
"Jake, you've had trouble with that Windsor knot as long as I've known you! Don't worry about it! We've got to go!" The voice was getting impatient.
"Mary, now, we've talked about this! If I'm going, I'm wearing a tie! Got it?" He grimaced again. He softened his tone while keeping the same volume. "It's important, Mary. You know how I feel about this."
Hurriedly, he turned his attention back to his bedroom mirror. Quietly, he continued: "Fat end back around to the right... back up underneath... through the loop, and --" he gave it a tug to tighten it -- "done." Flipping his collar back down, he hastily reached into the closet for his suit jacket, pulling it off the metal hanger with such force that it twirled around the curtain rod like a gymnast, finally falling with a ting onto the floor, a piece of metal bent and deformed by the force of Jake's pull.
Jake took a quick look at it. I'll fix it later, he thought. At least that's something I can do.
"Coming, Mary!" He broke out into as much as a run as his bum leg could muster, although to the average onlooker, it wouldn't look like running. Ever since that cave-in at the coal mine 23 years ago that crushed the muscles in his leg, walking without a cane, let alone running, was a battle.
"Jake! Jake, don't run now! We'll have time, don't worry," Mary said as she ran as fast toward the bedroom as her high heels would let her. This, too, did not look like much of a run to the average spectator.
She met Jake at the door of their bedroom, stabilizing him just as he was about to lose balance. Holding him up, she smiled. "We have more time than I thought. We'll make it." He knew she was lying, but he didn't argue.
Their bedroom was at the end of a long corridor that ran from it past another bedroom and a bathroom, finally to the kitchen/dining room of their small trailer. Wasn't much, but it kept the rain off, as Jake would say. Handing Jake his cane, Mary took his free hand and led him down the hallway, out the front door, to their awaiting '88 Chevy truck. Just like every Thursday before, just like every Thursday to come.
After coaxing the engine back to life, Mary guided their truck down a small road, turning onto the hilly, twisting road that was West Virginia Highway 15. Jake never spoke during this particular weekly trip. Mary never spoke either, giving Jake his space. Jake just rolled down his window, allowing the mountain air to play in his salt-and-pepper hair -- more salt than pepper these days. His birth certificate swore he was only 62, but he may as well have been 92. He felt that old.
Old... old and poor... old and poor and useless.... He could keep going, but that was a dark road, and he didn't feel like leading his mind down there again.
After a 25-minute drive, they finally reached their destination: Mount Sinai Mountain Mission. Grocery day. The lineup had indeed already started, trailing out the front door, down the porch steps, past the front corner of the house. They would be waiting a while. It was usually an all-day affair anyway. Dressed in his good, black suit with his blue-striped tie, Jake slowly slipped out of the cab, leaning on his cane for balance. Mary came around, dressed in her bright blue paisley dress, walking gingerly in her high heels, extending her hand to help support her husband. Once Jake regained his bearings, they slowly made their way to the end of the line.
For as long as it was, the line was moving fairly quickly. Within an hour, they were slowly making their way up the porch steps, able to see inside the mission, where paper bags full of groceries awaited. Wouldn't be long now.
Jake hated it. Every moment of it. He never had to take handouts from anyone. Yet here he was, holding out his hand like a beggar in the street. It sickened him. That's why he had to dress up every Thursday; at least he wasn't going to look like a beggar.
One by one, each family filtered in, got their bag, and filtered out. At last, Jake and Mary made their way to the front door. Jake wondered in the back of his mind where the mission group was from this time. If he remembered correctly, Mel, the elderly man who ran the facility with his wife, Jan, said last week that the group today would be from... one of those short-named states... Ohio? Iowa? Utah? Something like that. They were all the same anyway. Come to the poor part of West Virginia, hand out some macaroni and cheese, talking about how they're the "body of Christ," his "hands and feet" and all that, and go home feeling good about themselves. Nothing ever changes.
Just as Jake and Mary's turn was about to come up, Mel made his way out the door. A big-bellied, big-bearded man with a constant smile on his face, Mel always reminded Jake of Santa Claus, except he was there all the time with groceries instead of toys. His smile was still beaming.
"Hey, Jake, how you doing?" He placed a firm yet gentle hand on Jake's shoulder.
"Hey, Mel, doing good -- you?"
"Not too bad, Jake, not too bad. Looking sharp, as always."
"Thanks, Mel. You're looking good, too." Jake barely looked at him.
Mel turned his attention to the lineup. "Hey, everyone, how's it going? Just wanted to let you know that we're getting some kids from the team to work the front desk. Now, they're still learning the ropes, so be real patient with them, okay? Okay, they should be ready here to get going again in just a few minutes!" He flashed his big smile and shuffled back into the mission.
Great. Another delay. This day would never end. Jake sighed in frustration, resigned to wait his turn.
As he looked through the doorway, Jake thought he saw someone in the corner fidgeting. Finally there came a grunt of frustration.
"I can't get it!"
Jake looked to see a young member of the mission team, maybe 13 or 14, struggling with something on his shirt. One of the older members of the team, a lady, came to check on the frustrated teen.
"I can't get this tie to work!" Obviously, this team placed an emphasis on formal dress. The kids had to wear ties, too.
Unfortunately, the female missionary had little experience working with ties. The kid was definitely in trouble.
"Hey, you trying to use a Windsor knot?"
The kid looked up to see who was speaking. Jake was surprised to discover it was him.
"Uh, yeah," the kid replied.
Jake shuffled into the mission, working his way over to the teenage stranger. He pulled up a chair, slowly sinking into it.
"My dad tried to show me how to do it before I left, but I can't remember," the boy said sheepishly.
"Well, let's see what we can do about that," Jake said, trying to sound confident. He reached up and untied his tie, letting it hang around his neck. "Okay, kid, stand here beside me and do what I do." The boy obeyed without a word. "Now, let the fat end hang down a little lower," Jake began, pulling the boy's tie down a bit at the one end. "There you go. Now, fat end over skinny..." Jake demonstrated on his own. "Right... bring the fat end up and through the hole, like you're tying a shoelace... that's right...." Jake slowly repeated the same litany he said to himself every Thursday morning in front of the mirror. The young missionary hung on his every word, following Jake's instructions to the letter, watching the old mountain man's tie to make sure he was doing it right. "Now, pull the fat end up underneath one more time... now tuck it under that loop you made there... good. Now pull the fat end through.... There you have it! Now hold the skinny end and tighten it up." They simultaneously pulled the knot on their ties up to the collar. Jake smiled. "Not bad for a first try."
The boy beamed a wide grin as he showed off his knot-tying skills to Jake. "Thank you, sir," he said, "I'll do my best to remember how to do this. I really appreciate it."
Jake smiled a little wider. "Ah, it was nothin'," he said. Leaning on his cane, he rose to his feet, Mary quickly as his side to steady him. Funny, his feet felt a little lighter now. The boy quickly ran behind the front counter, grabbing a bag of groceries. He slowly carried it to Mary, trying to be careful not to drop it. "Here you go, ma'am," he said politely. Mary thanked him and steadied Jake as they made their way out of the mission.
As they walked back to the truck, Mary noticed that Jake still had a smile on his face. Catching her staring, Jake grinned a little even as he struggled to hobble his way to the truck. "You doing good?" Mary asked.
"Yeah, I'm doing good," Jake replied, still smiling. "It's not every day you get the chance to teach Jesus how to tie a tie."
Craig Kelly is the Editorial Assistant for CSS Publishing Company in Lima, Ohio. Hesitant to call himself an aspiring freelance writer, he is a self-proclaimed "dabbler" in writing.
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply email the story to us at storyshare@sermonsuite.com.
**************
StoryShare, June 29, 2008, issue.
Copyright 2008 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
What's Up This Week
"The Borrowed Book" by Argile Smith
"The Tie" by Craig Kelly
What's Up This Week
We often hear around Christmas that, "It is better to give than to receive." However, in our world, there can be many more takers than givers the rest of the year. Yet, giving still has many benefits, especially in our relationship with God. He has given us everything, even our very breath, but it is so easy to begin to claim that gift as our own, not realizing that God gives to us so we can give to him. Argile Smith explains in "The Borrowed Book." While it is essential to give to God, it is also important to give to one another. In "The Tie," Craig Kelly tells the story of a man who, though he thought he had nothing to give, found that he still had a gift to give. In his act of giving, he gained a great reward.
* * * * * * * * *
The Borrowed Book
By Argile Smith
Genesis 22:1-14
Lonnie and Dennis were good friends who enjoyed collecting books. Their friendship grew across the years as they spent countless hours each week searching for rare books at rummage sales, antique galleries, and used-book stores. Talking about the treasures they had discovered was fun, too.
One day Lonnie asked Dennis if he could borrow one literary treasure in particular. Lonnie wanted to read it whenever he had some spare time, so having it nearby would be convenient for him. Of course, Dennis let him borrow the book. He had no doubt that his friend would return it in just the same condition that he had borrowed it.
When Lonnie took the book to his house, he intentionally placed it on the desk in his library. He wanted to make sure that it stayed in a separate place so it wouldn't get lost somewhere in his vast collection that crowded the corners as well as the shelves of the room.
That's where Dennis' book stayed for a long time. Days turned into weeks which turned into months before Lonnie actually picked up the book to read it. After he finished reading it, however, he placed the book on a shelf that had been designated for books by the same author. He wanted to move it from his desk so he could make room for another volume that he had secured. As he placed the book on the shelf, he told himself that he would return it to Lonnie as soon as possible.
As you can imagine, Lonnie forgot about the book being on his shelf. Dennis never asked about it, which further enabled the book to disappear from Lonnie's memory.
Time passed, and Lonnie's sister, Sherry, came for her yearly visit. Always intrigued by the fact that her brother was a bona fide bibliophile, she liked to go to his ever-growing library to see which volumes had been added, and he enjoyed showing her what he had found. This visit would be no different. He escorted her to his library to show off his new treasures.
As his eyes combed the shelves in search of new acquisitions, he spotted the book he had borrowed from Lonnie. But as he told Sherry about the book's sentimental as well as re-sale value, he left out the important detail that the book didn't really belong to him.
For some reason, he had come to believe that he actually owned the book. Perhaps he had fallen prey to the legal notion that possession was nine-tenths of the law. He possessed the book, and it had remained on his shelf for quite a long time. Besides, Dennis hadn't asked him to return it. Therefore, he reasoned, he could now lay claim to the book. In reality, however, it always belonged to his friend. No amount of rationalization could ever change that significant fact.
The fact of true ownership turned out to haunt Lonnie in due time. One day Dennis surprised him by asking him to return the book. He told Lonnie that he wanted to pass it along to his granddaughter so she could read it.
At first, Lonnie wanted to argue that the book now belonged to him since it had been resting on his shelf so long. But he held his tongue because the fact of real ownership couldn't be denied.
Of course, he promptly returned the book and apologized to Dennis for not doing it sooner. Dennis reacted with a measure of astonishment on his face and said, "Lonnie, I knew that you had the book and that you would return it when I asked for it."
Isaac belonged to God, not to Abraham. The ordeal at Moriah had to do with returning what Abraham treasured to the original owner (Genesis 22:1-14). Likewise, each of us belongs to God. Giving ourselves to Him may be difficult, but it's necessary. The fact of true ownership cannot be denied (Romans 6:12-23).
Argile Smith is vice president for advancement at William Carey University in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. He previously served at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary (NOBTS) as a preaching professor, chairman of the Division of Pastoral Ministries, and director of the communications center. While at NOTBS, Smith regularly hosted the Gateway to Truth program on the FamilyNet television network. He has also been the pastor of several congregations in Louisiana and Mississippi. Smith's articles have been widely published in church periodicals, and he is the author or editor of four books.
The Tie
By Craig Kelly
Matthew 10:40-42
This was the hardest part. One would think that after doing this so many times, it would become automatic. But he still had to talk himself through it.
"Fat end over skinny... fat end up and through... fat end -- is it the fat or skinny end, now -- fat, yes, fat end over to the left...."
"Come on, honey! We're going to be late, and you know there's always a huge line!"
"I know, dear, I know, just give me a minute, okay?"
She yelled again from outside the room. "You're tying that tie, aren't you?"
"No!" he yelled before thinking about it. Grimacing, he finally yelled, "Yes," although slightly quieter than before.
"Jake, you've had trouble with that Windsor knot as long as I've known you! Don't worry about it! We've got to go!" The voice was getting impatient.
"Mary, now, we've talked about this! If I'm going, I'm wearing a tie! Got it?" He grimaced again. He softened his tone while keeping the same volume. "It's important, Mary. You know how I feel about this."
Hurriedly, he turned his attention back to his bedroom mirror. Quietly, he continued: "Fat end back around to the right... back up underneath... through the loop, and --" he gave it a tug to tighten it -- "done." Flipping his collar back down, he hastily reached into the closet for his suit jacket, pulling it off the metal hanger with such force that it twirled around the curtain rod like a gymnast, finally falling with a ting onto the floor, a piece of metal bent and deformed by the force of Jake's pull.
Jake took a quick look at it. I'll fix it later, he thought. At least that's something I can do.
"Coming, Mary!" He broke out into as much as a run as his bum leg could muster, although to the average onlooker, it wouldn't look like running. Ever since that cave-in at the coal mine 23 years ago that crushed the muscles in his leg, walking without a cane, let alone running, was a battle.
"Jake! Jake, don't run now! We'll have time, don't worry," Mary said as she ran as fast toward the bedroom as her high heels would let her. This, too, did not look like much of a run to the average spectator.
She met Jake at the door of their bedroom, stabilizing him just as he was about to lose balance. Holding him up, she smiled. "We have more time than I thought. We'll make it." He knew she was lying, but he didn't argue.
Their bedroom was at the end of a long corridor that ran from it past another bedroom and a bathroom, finally to the kitchen/dining room of their small trailer. Wasn't much, but it kept the rain off, as Jake would say. Handing Jake his cane, Mary took his free hand and led him down the hallway, out the front door, to their awaiting '88 Chevy truck. Just like every Thursday before, just like every Thursday to come.
After coaxing the engine back to life, Mary guided their truck down a small road, turning onto the hilly, twisting road that was West Virginia Highway 15. Jake never spoke during this particular weekly trip. Mary never spoke either, giving Jake his space. Jake just rolled down his window, allowing the mountain air to play in his salt-and-pepper hair -- more salt than pepper these days. His birth certificate swore he was only 62, but he may as well have been 92. He felt that old.
Old... old and poor... old and poor and useless.... He could keep going, but that was a dark road, and he didn't feel like leading his mind down there again.
After a 25-minute drive, they finally reached their destination: Mount Sinai Mountain Mission. Grocery day. The lineup had indeed already started, trailing out the front door, down the porch steps, past the front corner of the house. They would be waiting a while. It was usually an all-day affair anyway. Dressed in his good, black suit with his blue-striped tie, Jake slowly slipped out of the cab, leaning on his cane for balance. Mary came around, dressed in her bright blue paisley dress, walking gingerly in her high heels, extending her hand to help support her husband. Once Jake regained his bearings, they slowly made their way to the end of the line.
For as long as it was, the line was moving fairly quickly. Within an hour, they were slowly making their way up the porch steps, able to see inside the mission, where paper bags full of groceries awaited. Wouldn't be long now.
Jake hated it. Every moment of it. He never had to take handouts from anyone. Yet here he was, holding out his hand like a beggar in the street. It sickened him. That's why he had to dress up every Thursday; at least he wasn't going to look like a beggar.
One by one, each family filtered in, got their bag, and filtered out. At last, Jake and Mary made their way to the front door. Jake wondered in the back of his mind where the mission group was from this time. If he remembered correctly, Mel, the elderly man who ran the facility with his wife, Jan, said last week that the group today would be from... one of those short-named states... Ohio? Iowa? Utah? Something like that. They were all the same anyway. Come to the poor part of West Virginia, hand out some macaroni and cheese, talking about how they're the "body of Christ," his "hands and feet" and all that, and go home feeling good about themselves. Nothing ever changes.
Just as Jake and Mary's turn was about to come up, Mel made his way out the door. A big-bellied, big-bearded man with a constant smile on his face, Mel always reminded Jake of Santa Claus, except he was there all the time with groceries instead of toys. His smile was still beaming.
"Hey, Jake, how you doing?" He placed a firm yet gentle hand on Jake's shoulder.
"Hey, Mel, doing good -- you?"
"Not too bad, Jake, not too bad. Looking sharp, as always."
"Thanks, Mel. You're looking good, too." Jake barely looked at him.
Mel turned his attention to the lineup. "Hey, everyone, how's it going? Just wanted to let you know that we're getting some kids from the team to work the front desk. Now, they're still learning the ropes, so be real patient with them, okay? Okay, they should be ready here to get going again in just a few minutes!" He flashed his big smile and shuffled back into the mission.
Great. Another delay. This day would never end. Jake sighed in frustration, resigned to wait his turn.
As he looked through the doorway, Jake thought he saw someone in the corner fidgeting. Finally there came a grunt of frustration.
"I can't get it!"
Jake looked to see a young member of the mission team, maybe 13 or 14, struggling with something on his shirt. One of the older members of the team, a lady, came to check on the frustrated teen.
"I can't get this tie to work!" Obviously, this team placed an emphasis on formal dress. The kids had to wear ties, too.
Unfortunately, the female missionary had little experience working with ties. The kid was definitely in trouble.
"Hey, you trying to use a Windsor knot?"
The kid looked up to see who was speaking. Jake was surprised to discover it was him.
"Uh, yeah," the kid replied.
Jake shuffled into the mission, working his way over to the teenage stranger. He pulled up a chair, slowly sinking into it.
"My dad tried to show me how to do it before I left, but I can't remember," the boy said sheepishly.
"Well, let's see what we can do about that," Jake said, trying to sound confident. He reached up and untied his tie, letting it hang around his neck. "Okay, kid, stand here beside me and do what I do." The boy obeyed without a word. "Now, let the fat end hang down a little lower," Jake began, pulling the boy's tie down a bit at the one end. "There you go. Now, fat end over skinny..." Jake demonstrated on his own. "Right... bring the fat end up and through the hole, like you're tying a shoelace... that's right...." Jake slowly repeated the same litany he said to himself every Thursday morning in front of the mirror. The young missionary hung on his every word, following Jake's instructions to the letter, watching the old mountain man's tie to make sure he was doing it right. "Now, pull the fat end up underneath one more time... now tuck it under that loop you made there... good. Now pull the fat end through.... There you have it! Now hold the skinny end and tighten it up." They simultaneously pulled the knot on their ties up to the collar. Jake smiled. "Not bad for a first try."
The boy beamed a wide grin as he showed off his knot-tying skills to Jake. "Thank you, sir," he said, "I'll do my best to remember how to do this. I really appreciate it."
Jake smiled a little wider. "Ah, it was nothin'," he said. Leaning on his cane, he rose to his feet, Mary quickly as his side to steady him. Funny, his feet felt a little lighter now. The boy quickly ran behind the front counter, grabbing a bag of groceries. He slowly carried it to Mary, trying to be careful not to drop it. "Here you go, ma'am," he said politely. Mary thanked him and steadied Jake as they made their way out of the mission.
As they walked back to the truck, Mary noticed that Jake still had a smile on his face. Catching her staring, Jake grinned a little even as he struggled to hobble his way to the truck. "You doing good?" Mary asked.
"Yeah, I'm doing good," Jake replied, still smiling. "It's not every day you get the chance to teach Jesus how to tie a tie."
Craig Kelly is the Editorial Assistant for CSS Publishing Company in Lima, Ohio. Hesitant to call himself an aspiring freelance writer, he is a self-proclaimed "dabbler" in writing.
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply email the story to us at storyshare@sermonsuite.com.
**************
StoryShare, June 29, 2008, issue.
Copyright 2008 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
