The Painting
Stories
Contents
What's Up This Week
A Story to Live By: "Breaking With Tradition" by Gregory L. Tolle
Good Stories: "The Painting" by Chuck Cammarata
"Listening and Doing" by Constance Berg
"The Voice of the Turtledove" by Henry Scholberg
What's Up This Week
Sometimes it's the small, everyday acts of love acted out in many and various ways that truly show what we value most -- and in this week's edition of StoryShare, we celebrate those meaningful gestures that can make all the difference. From a mother's love expressed on canvas, to a firm commitment to cease gossiping, to a wife's loving reminder to "stop and smell the roses," our stories show what a wonderful world God has created for us... and how we can share his love for us with one another.
A Story to Live By
Breaking With Tradition
by Gregory L. Tolle
So the Pharisees and the scribes asked him, "Why do your disciples not live according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with defiled hands?" He said to them, "Isaiah prophesied rightly about you hypocrites, as it is written, 'This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching human precepts as doctrines.' You abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition."
Mark 7:5-8
It can be so easy to serve tradition or personal preference. In one church I served, we began singing a contemporary chorus in place of one of the traditional three hymns. Some of the "contemporary" songs were over 30 years old; a few were even in our hymnal. The biggest twist was that we sang the songs while being accompanied by guitar. The change was made by a decision of our worship committee, who had decided to try it on a six-month temporary basis.
After about four to five months, I received a phone call from a woman who was not a member of the church but was a long-time active participant in worship. She asked why I insisted on "ruining the church" with all the new music.
I shared with her that I wasn't trying to ruin the church, and reminded her that the decision came from our worship committee. I also shared with her that many people had expressed how much they loved the choruses. In fact, another woman in the church had told me she didn't sing in church until we began singing the choruses. Consequently, she was now attending more regularly.
The woman on the other end of the phone was shocked. She couldn't believe that people liked the choruses, because everyone she had talked to hated them. Of course, the "everyone" she talked to was her circle of friends, which constituted two or three people. She asked me to identify the woman whose singing and attendance increased with the introduction of the choruses. I told her it was Karen, a young single mom who had been a member for three and a half years.
The complaining woman's response shocked me. She said, "Oh well, she doesn't count."
I said, "Why wouldn't she count?"
She said, "She hasn't been with us long enough."
Later, I thought how ironic it was that a woman who had never committed to the church by becoming a member thought her opinion mattered more than a woman who had committed to the church. The real irony was that if the church had been "ruined" by singing contemporary choruses, it had been "ruined" to 25 percent growth -- mainly young families. These choruses were instrumental in reaching out to young people in our community with the good news of Jesus Christ.
Sure, we were breaking with tradition, but it was human tradition and not the commandments of God. We sometimes confuse the two. We are charged to make disciples, but not necessarily in the same way it was done 50 or 100 years ago. Making disciples is God's command, and by doing so we show that our hearts are aligned with God's. How we do that is human tradition, which Jesus reminds us is not to be confused with God's command.
Gregory L. Tolle is the senior minister at First United Methodist Church in Durant, Oklahoma. He is the author of three volumes of the CSS series Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit.
Good Stories
The Painting
by Chuck Cammarata
This week's readings remind us that true faith is not a matter of lip service or duty-doing, but rather a matter of hearts and spirits surrendered to God and the ways of God. The following story is a story of the heart.
* * *
The Arts Festival had been going on for the better part of a week, and anticipation was building for the announcement of the winners in the various categories of the festival's juried segment. The competition in the painting field was particularly keen, as there were numerous beautiful works.
All week long people had viewed the paintings and cast their votes for best in show. There was a particular seascape done in oils that was rendered with extraordinary skill. Many felt it would win. But the still life floral arrangement of irises, liatris, and salvia was also beautiful. Remarks were overheard all week about how lifelike it was. Maybe this one would capture the prize. In truth, there were several others that were very deserving. These were paintings done with remarkable skill. The artists were plainly masters of technique and composition. But in the end, none of the skillfully carried out works took the prize. Rather, a large portrait of a mother watching her small daughter as the girl drew her own little work of art took the prize.
The artist behind this work did not have the best technique in the show. In a spot or two the perspective was off. And the shadows didn't fall just right on the tabletop or the floor. The combination of colors wasn't especially dazzling either, but there was something about that painting. People lingered over it. Tears and smiles came to eyes and mouths as people passed by. It spoke to people. It touched and moved them. But what was it about this piece?
When the announcement of the winning work was made, this was the question that was on many minds: "What was it about this painting?" The woman who made the announcement, herself an accomplished painter, sensed that this question was on the minds of the members of the crowd. She addressed the unspoken question by saying: "There were many great works of art in this year's show. There were works that revealed brilliance in composition and the use of color, and works that bore the marks of masterful technique. But for all the beauty and brilliance of these paintings, they were not chosen. Instead we chose a work that called to the depths in us. This is what the greatest works of art do. They call from the deep of the artist's heart to the deep of our hearts. They are not done to amuse or impress; rather, they are done because they cannot not be done. They are done because they burst forth from the heart and soul of the artist. They are not done dutifully but lovingly."
As the woman ended the crowd was contemplative, and they waited to lay eyes on the one who had crafted this moving work of art. A young woman came to the stage; in her arms was a newborn, and behind her trailed the sweet little one who was the subject of the painting. Now all was clear. This painting, this moving, poignant portrait, was simply an outpouring of the love of a mother for her child. It was love captured on canvas.
Chuck Cammarata is the pastor of Fairview Presbyterian Church in Fairview, Pennsylvania. He is the author of the CSS titles Lighting the Flame and Lectionary Worship Workbook, and editor of the funeral resources anthology Life Everlasting.
Listening and Doing
by Constance Berg
Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you. Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says -- be blessed in what you do. If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless. Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.
James 1:19-27
Delilah was the new president of the hospital auxiliary. There were about 350 volunteers who wanted to help the teaching hospital in some capacity. Some requested to man the gift shop in the hospital. Others volunteered to drive to and from private homes to collect items for the hospital thrift shop down the street. A few asked if they could do correspondence; a few others asked if they might run the magazine and coffee carts around the family waiting rooms. They were excited as they prepared to get their assignments. Would they get what they wanted? Would they get the hours that worked best for them?
Delilah was introduced by the hospital's director of development. He explained that while Delilah was new to the community, she had already interviewed many of the hospital staff, asking for suggestions and comments regarding the volunteers. He told them how she had sat in various waiting rooms with families, just observing volunteers. He laughed when he pointed out that Delilah had originally meant to observe at the thrift shop but had ended up with several purchases! The group chuckled. It felt good to have a leader again after five presidents within the last year. There had been so much turmoil and turnover, and now they were ready for a president. The development director asked Delilah to give a short snapshot of her life.
Delilah stood up in front of the group and was very quiet. She wanted them to see her, to size her up and get a feel for who had been hired to lead them. She looked around as the room became very quiet.
"I was a doctor in my 'previous life,' an obstetrician," she began. "I still remember when I took the oath to do as much as I could to save a life. Even though it was just after World War II broke out, I remember it as if it were yesterday. I remembered what my mother said -- I was in the healing business, not the hurting business."
Everyone was quiet as she continued her story. "I remember night after night being privileged to have a thick slice of bread for the day with a tablespoon of lard. It was considered a large ration because I had a position of importance. I remember giving thanks every morning for my bread and cutting it very carefully in half -- one half for me and one half for the newest mother to give birth. She needed the energy to nurse her baby, and I knew I could get by with just a half. The war lasted five years, but I always felt so incredibly blessed during those days!"
Delilah looked around. "Now it's over 50 years later, and I have been asked to be your leader. I carry many experiences as a doctor and later as a principal of a large school for people with handicapping conditions. We are here to help the hospital, and we will only be able to help others if we become a team -- a helpful team, an effective team. I only have one rule if you want me to be your leader: you can never hurt another volunteer. That's it. It's as easy a concept as it is difficult. But it's the only rule I have."
She paused. "If I hear you gossip, you will turn in your jacket and badge to me on the spot. If I hear that you are gossiping, you will be interviewed -- and if it is true that you were gossiping, you will turn in your jacket and badge to me immediately. If you cannot follow this simple rule, I am asking you to leave right now. We will take a 10-minute break so you can think about it."
The group was quiet. They weren't expecting this -- they were waiting for their assignments. They talked among themselves. A few left; most stayed. Some were annoyed; most thought the rule had merit. The group reconvened in 10 minutes.
"I will pass this tablet around, and you will fill in the days, times, and place you want to work. I will put up the schedule in two days and also post it on the internet. I look forward to working with you."
Delilah turned and left the room. No one said a word as they got busy filling out the sheets. Maybe they could follow the rule... maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
Constance Berg is a former missionary to Chiapas, Mexico. She is currently based in Bakersfield, California, where she serves as the director of 18 nursing homes for handicapped individuals. Berg is the author of three volumes of the CSS series Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit.
The Voice of the Turtledove
by Henry Scholberg
My beloved speaks and says to me: "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land."
Song of Solomon 2:10-12
Mark came home from work that day and didn't bother to kiss his wife. Mechanically, he hung up his coat in the hall closet, settled down on the sofa, propped up his feet, and snapped on the television. Janet stepped into the living room. "Welcome home, dear," she said. "I was in the kitchen. Didn't hear you come in."
The six o'clock news was on. There had been a carjacking during the night and two murders. "How was your day, dear?" Janet asked. No answer. "Do you want to talk about it?" He shook his head. "Then I'll go back in the kitchen."
"What's for supper?"
"I'm fixing a new chicken recipe."
"What am I? Your guinea pig?"
"I'm sure you'll like it." Janet wasn't really sure he'd like it. She wasn't sure he'd like anything. They had been married less than three years, and she knew something was wrong. Something had happened at the office, something he didn't want to talk about. The supper was delightful. The new chicken recipe was great! But they ate in silence. "At least he isn't complaining," she thought. Over coffee in the living room, Mark opened up.
"Remember that proposal I was telling you about?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Steiger didn't like it. He practically threw it out the office window. I worked for weeks on that project. The troglodyte wouldn't even consider a revision of it. He just rejected it out of hand."
"Darling," Janet said, "you mustn't give up. You have a lot of good ideas. One of these days they'll listen to you."
"When horses fly."
Janet brightened up. "Come," she said, grabbing his hand. "Let's get out of this stuffy old house and go for a walk in the park." It was a cool evening. They slipped on their jackets and walked the two blocks to the small park. Children were playing on the swings and the jungle gym. In the center of the park was a fountain sending its spray high into the air, and surrounding the fountain was a bed of roses.
"I know what you're up to, Janet," Mark said. "You want me to take time to smell the roses."
"Is that such a bad assignment?"
"Not if it comes from someone you love." He squeezed her hand and kissed her. "I'm a dope. You know that, don't you?"
"You're no such thing, Mark."
"I'm so wrapped up in myself and my troubles, I don't even notice the love and the beauty that surrounds me."
He stopped. "Listen. It's a bird call... kind of a warble. Didn't you hear it?" They listened. "There it is again."
"I heard it that time, and I know what it is." She turned to him. "The song of the turtledove," she said, "has been heard in the land."
Henry Scholberg was born and spent most of his childhood in India, where his parents were Methodist missionaries for nearly four decades. He served as the director of the University of Minnesota's Ames Library of South Asia at for 25 years. Scholberg is the author of The Golden Bells and In the Time of Trial.
**********************************************
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 click here share-a-story@csspub.com and e-mail the story to us.
**********************************************
StoryShare, September 3, 2006, issue.
Copyright 2006 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
A Story to Live By: "Breaking With Tradition" by Gregory L. Tolle
Good Stories: "The Painting" by Chuck Cammarata
"Listening and Doing" by Constance Berg
"The Voice of the Turtledove" by Henry Scholberg
What's Up This Week
Sometimes it's the small, everyday acts of love acted out in many and various ways that truly show what we value most -- and in this week's edition of StoryShare, we celebrate those meaningful gestures that can make all the difference. From a mother's love expressed on canvas, to a firm commitment to cease gossiping, to a wife's loving reminder to "stop and smell the roses," our stories show what a wonderful world God has created for us... and how we can share his love for us with one another.
A Story to Live By
Breaking With Tradition
by Gregory L. Tolle
So the Pharisees and the scribes asked him, "Why do your disciples not live according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with defiled hands?" He said to them, "Isaiah prophesied rightly about you hypocrites, as it is written, 'This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching human precepts as doctrines.' You abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition."
Mark 7:5-8
It can be so easy to serve tradition or personal preference. In one church I served, we began singing a contemporary chorus in place of one of the traditional three hymns. Some of the "contemporary" songs were over 30 years old; a few were even in our hymnal. The biggest twist was that we sang the songs while being accompanied by guitar. The change was made by a decision of our worship committee, who had decided to try it on a six-month temporary basis.
After about four to five months, I received a phone call from a woman who was not a member of the church but was a long-time active participant in worship. She asked why I insisted on "ruining the church" with all the new music.
I shared with her that I wasn't trying to ruin the church, and reminded her that the decision came from our worship committee. I also shared with her that many people had expressed how much they loved the choruses. In fact, another woman in the church had told me she didn't sing in church until we began singing the choruses. Consequently, she was now attending more regularly.
The woman on the other end of the phone was shocked. She couldn't believe that people liked the choruses, because everyone she had talked to hated them. Of course, the "everyone" she talked to was her circle of friends, which constituted two or three people. She asked me to identify the woman whose singing and attendance increased with the introduction of the choruses. I told her it was Karen, a young single mom who had been a member for three and a half years.
The complaining woman's response shocked me. She said, "Oh well, she doesn't count."
I said, "Why wouldn't she count?"
She said, "She hasn't been with us long enough."
Later, I thought how ironic it was that a woman who had never committed to the church by becoming a member thought her opinion mattered more than a woman who had committed to the church. The real irony was that if the church had been "ruined" by singing contemporary choruses, it had been "ruined" to 25 percent growth -- mainly young families. These choruses were instrumental in reaching out to young people in our community with the good news of Jesus Christ.
Sure, we were breaking with tradition, but it was human tradition and not the commandments of God. We sometimes confuse the two. We are charged to make disciples, but not necessarily in the same way it was done 50 or 100 years ago. Making disciples is God's command, and by doing so we show that our hearts are aligned with God's. How we do that is human tradition, which Jesus reminds us is not to be confused with God's command.
Gregory L. Tolle is the senior minister at First United Methodist Church in Durant, Oklahoma. He is the author of three volumes of the CSS series Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit.
Good Stories
The Painting
by Chuck Cammarata
This week's readings remind us that true faith is not a matter of lip service or duty-doing, but rather a matter of hearts and spirits surrendered to God and the ways of God. The following story is a story of the heart.
* * *
The Arts Festival had been going on for the better part of a week, and anticipation was building for the announcement of the winners in the various categories of the festival's juried segment. The competition in the painting field was particularly keen, as there were numerous beautiful works.
All week long people had viewed the paintings and cast their votes for best in show. There was a particular seascape done in oils that was rendered with extraordinary skill. Many felt it would win. But the still life floral arrangement of irises, liatris, and salvia was also beautiful. Remarks were overheard all week about how lifelike it was. Maybe this one would capture the prize. In truth, there were several others that were very deserving. These were paintings done with remarkable skill. The artists were plainly masters of technique and composition. But in the end, none of the skillfully carried out works took the prize. Rather, a large portrait of a mother watching her small daughter as the girl drew her own little work of art took the prize.
The artist behind this work did not have the best technique in the show. In a spot or two the perspective was off. And the shadows didn't fall just right on the tabletop or the floor. The combination of colors wasn't especially dazzling either, but there was something about that painting. People lingered over it. Tears and smiles came to eyes and mouths as people passed by. It spoke to people. It touched and moved them. But what was it about this piece?
When the announcement of the winning work was made, this was the question that was on many minds: "What was it about this painting?" The woman who made the announcement, herself an accomplished painter, sensed that this question was on the minds of the members of the crowd. She addressed the unspoken question by saying: "There were many great works of art in this year's show. There were works that revealed brilliance in composition and the use of color, and works that bore the marks of masterful technique. But for all the beauty and brilliance of these paintings, they were not chosen. Instead we chose a work that called to the depths in us. This is what the greatest works of art do. They call from the deep of the artist's heart to the deep of our hearts. They are not done to amuse or impress; rather, they are done because they cannot not be done. They are done because they burst forth from the heart and soul of the artist. They are not done dutifully but lovingly."
As the woman ended the crowd was contemplative, and they waited to lay eyes on the one who had crafted this moving work of art. A young woman came to the stage; in her arms was a newborn, and behind her trailed the sweet little one who was the subject of the painting. Now all was clear. This painting, this moving, poignant portrait, was simply an outpouring of the love of a mother for her child. It was love captured on canvas.
Chuck Cammarata is the pastor of Fairview Presbyterian Church in Fairview, Pennsylvania. He is the author of the CSS titles Lighting the Flame and Lectionary Worship Workbook, and editor of the funeral resources anthology Life Everlasting.
Listening and Doing
by Constance Berg
Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you. Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says -- be blessed in what you do. If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless. Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.
James 1:19-27
Delilah was the new president of the hospital auxiliary. There were about 350 volunteers who wanted to help the teaching hospital in some capacity. Some requested to man the gift shop in the hospital. Others volunteered to drive to and from private homes to collect items for the hospital thrift shop down the street. A few asked if they could do correspondence; a few others asked if they might run the magazine and coffee carts around the family waiting rooms. They were excited as they prepared to get their assignments. Would they get what they wanted? Would they get the hours that worked best for them?
Delilah was introduced by the hospital's director of development. He explained that while Delilah was new to the community, she had already interviewed many of the hospital staff, asking for suggestions and comments regarding the volunteers. He told them how she had sat in various waiting rooms with families, just observing volunteers. He laughed when he pointed out that Delilah had originally meant to observe at the thrift shop but had ended up with several purchases! The group chuckled. It felt good to have a leader again after five presidents within the last year. There had been so much turmoil and turnover, and now they were ready for a president. The development director asked Delilah to give a short snapshot of her life.
Delilah stood up in front of the group and was very quiet. She wanted them to see her, to size her up and get a feel for who had been hired to lead them. She looked around as the room became very quiet.
"I was a doctor in my 'previous life,' an obstetrician," she began. "I still remember when I took the oath to do as much as I could to save a life. Even though it was just after World War II broke out, I remember it as if it were yesterday. I remembered what my mother said -- I was in the healing business, not the hurting business."
Everyone was quiet as she continued her story. "I remember night after night being privileged to have a thick slice of bread for the day with a tablespoon of lard. It was considered a large ration because I had a position of importance. I remember giving thanks every morning for my bread and cutting it very carefully in half -- one half for me and one half for the newest mother to give birth. She needed the energy to nurse her baby, and I knew I could get by with just a half. The war lasted five years, but I always felt so incredibly blessed during those days!"
Delilah looked around. "Now it's over 50 years later, and I have been asked to be your leader. I carry many experiences as a doctor and later as a principal of a large school for people with handicapping conditions. We are here to help the hospital, and we will only be able to help others if we become a team -- a helpful team, an effective team. I only have one rule if you want me to be your leader: you can never hurt another volunteer. That's it. It's as easy a concept as it is difficult. But it's the only rule I have."
She paused. "If I hear you gossip, you will turn in your jacket and badge to me on the spot. If I hear that you are gossiping, you will be interviewed -- and if it is true that you were gossiping, you will turn in your jacket and badge to me immediately. If you cannot follow this simple rule, I am asking you to leave right now. We will take a 10-minute break so you can think about it."
The group was quiet. They weren't expecting this -- they were waiting for their assignments. They talked among themselves. A few left; most stayed. Some were annoyed; most thought the rule had merit. The group reconvened in 10 minutes.
"I will pass this tablet around, and you will fill in the days, times, and place you want to work. I will put up the schedule in two days and also post it on the internet. I look forward to working with you."
Delilah turned and left the room. No one said a word as they got busy filling out the sheets. Maybe they could follow the rule... maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
Constance Berg is a former missionary to Chiapas, Mexico. She is currently based in Bakersfield, California, where she serves as the director of 18 nursing homes for handicapped individuals. Berg is the author of three volumes of the CSS series Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit.
The Voice of the Turtledove
by Henry Scholberg
My beloved speaks and says to me: "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land."
Song of Solomon 2:10-12
Mark came home from work that day and didn't bother to kiss his wife. Mechanically, he hung up his coat in the hall closet, settled down on the sofa, propped up his feet, and snapped on the television. Janet stepped into the living room. "Welcome home, dear," she said. "I was in the kitchen. Didn't hear you come in."
The six o'clock news was on. There had been a carjacking during the night and two murders. "How was your day, dear?" Janet asked. No answer. "Do you want to talk about it?" He shook his head. "Then I'll go back in the kitchen."
"What's for supper?"
"I'm fixing a new chicken recipe."
"What am I? Your guinea pig?"
"I'm sure you'll like it." Janet wasn't really sure he'd like it. She wasn't sure he'd like anything. They had been married less than three years, and she knew something was wrong. Something had happened at the office, something he didn't want to talk about. The supper was delightful. The new chicken recipe was great! But they ate in silence. "At least he isn't complaining," she thought. Over coffee in the living room, Mark opened up.
"Remember that proposal I was telling you about?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Steiger didn't like it. He practically threw it out the office window. I worked for weeks on that project. The troglodyte wouldn't even consider a revision of it. He just rejected it out of hand."
"Darling," Janet said, "you mustn't give up. You have a lot of good ideas. One of these days they'll listen to you."
"When horses fly."
Janet brightened up. "Come," she said, grabbing his hand. "Let's get out of this stuffy old house and go for a walk in the park." It was a cool evening. They slipped on their jackets and walked the two blocks to the small park. Children were playing on the swings and the jungle gym. In the center of the park was a fountain sending its spray high into the air, and surrounding the fountain was a bed of roses.
"I know what you're up to, Janet," Mark said. "You want me to take time to smell the roses."
"Is that such a bad assignment?"
"Not if it comes from someone you love." He squeezed her hand and kissed her. "I'm a dope. You know that, don't you?"
"You're no such thing, Mark."
"I'm so wrapped up in myself and my troubles, I don't even notice the love and the beauty that surrounds me."
He stopped. "Listen. It's a bird call... kind of a warble. Didn't you hear it?" They listened. "There it is again."
"I heard it that time, and I know what it is." She turned to him. "The song of the turtledove," she said, "has been heard in the land."
Henry Scholberg was born and spent most of his childhood in India, where his parents were Methodist missionaries for nearly four decades. He served as the director of the University of Minnesota's Ames Library of South Asia at for 25 years. Scholberg is the author of The Golden Bells and In the Time of Trial.
**********************************************
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 click here share-a-story@csspub.com and e-mail the story to us.
**********************************************
StoryShare, September 3, 2006, issue.
Copyright 2006 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.
