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	<title>The Encounter &#187; Thoughts from Terry</title>
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		<title>The Encounter &#187; Thoughts from Terry</title>
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		<title>Early Evening Movie</title>
		<link>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2009/11/12/early-evening-movie/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 12 Nov 2009 16:17:43 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>encounterwbc</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts from Terry]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/?p=308</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I know that a lot of you are going to read this and say, &#8220;It&#8217;s only the dollar theater,&#8221; but I also know that a lot of you have probably had something similar happen to you somewhere.
Okay, here&#8217;s the deal. I thought I would take my son on an early evening adventure so I picked [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=encounterwbc.wordpress.com&blog=2649723&post=308&subd=encounterwbc&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p>I know that a lot of you are going to read this and say, &#8220;It&#8217;s only the dollar theater,&#8221; but I also know that a lot of you have probably had something similar happen to you somewhere.</p>
<p>Okay, here&#8217;s the deal. I thought I would take my son on an early evening adventure so I picked him up after school and took him to see the movie <a href="http://disney.go.com/disneypictures/gforce/" target="_blank">“G-Force”</a> which was playing at the <a href="http://www.fandango.com/pictureshowmerchants_aargc/theaterpage" target="_blank">Picture Show</a>. We drove through the pouring rain and a small bit of traffic. We bought our tickets and made our way into theater number four. Not to my surprise, but to my son’s excitement, we had the theater to ourselves. It was just us, and he couldn’t believe we were going to get to watch a movie in a big theater all by ourselves. Now I did tell him that others might come in before the movie started and that we would just have to see how things played out, but at that point it was looking good.</p>
<p> Then it happened!!! It rang out as clear and as loud as a dinner bell to a bunch of hungry ranchers!!! In walked the mommy and her three boys &#8211; all under the age of five. And yes, the two year old was screaming bloody murder! Yep, you guessed it; they sat right down in front of us!!!!!!!</p>
<p> Helloooooooo! The theater was empty. Why right in front of us? I mean really. The theater was empty. I just really didn’t understand why, that out of the 100-150 seats available, did they have to sit right in front of us? LOL!!!</p>
<p> And to add insult to injury, I had to sit through a movie about talking guinea pigs.</p>
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		<title>85 Days to Go</title>
		<link>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2009/07/27/85-days-to-go/</link>
		<comments>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2009/07/27/85-days-to-go/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 27 Jul 2009 20:39:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>encounterwbc</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts from Terry]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/?p=299</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I took a look at my calendar today and noticed that we have moved our way through 280 days of 2009.  After realizing this, I read a couple of verses to start off my day.  Here is what I got:
 Out of the 280 days we have had in 2009, some difficult questions have come to [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=encounterwbc.wordpress.com&blog=2649723&post=299&subd=encounterwbc&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p>I took a look at my calendar today and noticed that we have moved our way through 280 days of 2009.  After realizing this, I read a couple of verses to start off my day.  Here is what I got:</p>
<p> Out of the 280 days we have had in 2009, some difficult questions have come to mind, and punctured my heart.  Have you truly been living out love?  Have you been walking through your days as a person crafted, shaped, and molded by the very hand of the Father? </p>
<blockquote><p> Ephesians 2:10 “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”</p></blockquote>
<p> Once we have Christ in us, to keep growing in the work that He has done in us, is not based off of good deeds performed to keep Him happy with us, but rather good deeds acted on out of gratitude of love for what He has done for us.  An act of love performed can just be a hollow performance if it is done out of obligation, however, it can be an act of humility, gratitude, and compassion if the understanding of the sacrifice given in love is truly understood.</p>
<blockquote><p> &#8221;Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13</p></blockquote>
<p> This is the magnitude of love at which we should live out our lives.  </p>
<p> As we pursue The Father, remember He is there, with a deep passion and desire for us to know Him, that He had before we were even born, how awesome is this love?</p>
<blockquote><p> Psalm 139:13-18 “For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother&#8217;s womb. I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are Your works, and my soul knows it very well. My name was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth; Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; And in Your book were all written The days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them. How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How vast is the sum of them!  If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand ; When I awake, I am still with You.”</p></blockquote>
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		<title>Moments to Remember</title>
		<link>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2009/07/08/moments-to-remember/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 08 Jul 2009 17:58:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>encounterwbc</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts from Terry]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/?p=295</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[We all have those moments that we need to remember.  Those times that we can laugh about for a long time, those things that can make you smile and help you make it through a tough day or time in your life. 
 I had one of those recently.  It was just a normal morning being brought [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=encounterwbc.wordpress.com&blog=2649723&post=295&subd=encounterwbc&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p>We all have those moments that we need to remember.  Those times that we can laugh about for a long time, those things that can make you smile and help you make it through a tough day or time in your life. </p>
<p> I had one of those recently.  It was just a normal morning being brought out of a night’s sleep from the bells of the alarm on my iPhone.  I went through the steps: turn on light in living room, put cartoons on the TV, wake up my son, place his clothes on the edge of his bed, go make the coffee, fix his breakfast, etc.</p>
<p> Then out the door to the car on time, and to the bus stop a few minutes early. We started playing with the music on the CD in the player.  This is where the moment to remember started.  As we began to dance and sing and act a little goofy, we became completely oblivious to everything else around us &#8211; including the bus pulling up, loading up kids and pulling away.  It was only when I noticed our neighbors’ cars pulling out to go around us that I saw the bus driving off in the distance.  My son and I stopped dancing, looked up the street at the bus (that he was supposed to be on) glanced back at each other, slung our heads back laughing and started dancing again to the music of DJ Maj.</p>
<p> “Oh, well,” were the next words from my mouth, and then I drove off to take him to school. </p>
<p> These are the moments to remember.  It is these types moments that both my kids seem to recall the most.  It’s the small, unexpected and unplanned moments. </p>
<p> Don’t overlook the small things or you’ll miss them and you’ll never have the opportunity to get them back!</p>
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		<title>Shoes In Church</title>
		<link>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2009/04/28/shoes-in-church/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 28 Apr 2009 15:18:26 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>encounterwbc</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts from Terry]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[This is a story that was sent to me by way of an email the other day.  As I began to read it, I wondered (not to this extreme) just how many churches had something like this happen in them this past Sunday morning. Not making any bones about it; it really comes down to, [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=encounterwbc.wordpress.com&blog=2649723&post=288&subd=encounterwbc&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 13pt;"><span style="font-size:13pt;font-family:ArialMT;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">This is a story that was sent to me by way of an email the other day.<span>  </span>As I began to read it, I wondered (not to this extreme) just how many churches had something like this happen in them this past Sunday morning. Not making any bones about it; it really comes down to, “I am much better than the next guy.<span>  </span>I am in a better place and I, and I, and I, and I…!”<span>  </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 13pt;"><em><span style="font-size:13pt;font-family:ArialMT;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">But the LORD said to Samuel, &#8220;Do not look at his appearance or at the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for God [sees] not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.&#8221; I Samuel 16:7 (NAS)</span></span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 13pt;"><span style="font-size:13pt;font-family:ArialMT;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">It’s not our job to take a look at someone else and make a judgment of the worth or value of that person.<span>  </span>God has called us to love, and in that love show His grace and mercy; which we so quickly forget, and that He Himself showed to us.<span>  </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 13pt;"><span style="font-size:13pt;font-family:ArialMT;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">Why is it that we find it so easy to point out the flaws in others but are seemingly oblivious to our own?<span>   </span>I remember in a movie called “Matthew” a depiction of a laughing Jesus, not the stale, I don’t know why anyone would want to follow me Jesus. He was teaching this in a scene:</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 13pt;"><em><span style="font-size:13pt;font-family:ArialMT;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">3. &#8220;And why do you look at the speck that is in your brother&#8217;s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? 4. &#8220;Or how can you say to your brother, &#8216;Let me take the speck out of your eye,&#8217; and behold, the log is in your own eye? 5. &#8220;You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother&#8217;s eye.<strong> </strong>Matthew 7:3-5 (NAS) </span></span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 13pt;"><span style="font-size:13pt;font-family:ArialMT;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">I remember it well because of how it was depicted.<span>  </span>As Jesus, played by Bruce Marchiano, was teaching the crowd of people, he turned away and he bent over at the waist then spun back around holding a long staff as if it were protruding out of his eye.<span>  </span>This made for a great visual for me as to how ridiculous I must look when I am being critical of others.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 13pt;"><span style="font-size:13pt;font-family:ArialMT;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span> </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">Shoes In Church</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">I showered and shaved. I adjusted my tie.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">I got there and sat, in a pew just in time.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">Bowing my head in prayer as I closed my eyes,</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">I saw the shoe of the man next to me touching my own. I sighed.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">With plenty of room on either side, I thought, &#8216;Why must our soles touch?&#8217;</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">It bothered me, his shoe touching mine, but it didn&#8217;t bother him much.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">A prayer began: “Our Father.” I thought, “This man with the shoes has no pride.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">They&#8217;re dusty, worn, and scratched. Even worse, there are holes on the side!”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Thank You for blessings” the prayer went on.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">The shoe man said a quiet, “Amen.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">I tried to focus on the prayer, but my thoughts were on his shoes again.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">Aren&#8217;t we supposed to look our best when walking through that door?</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Well, this certainly isn&#8217;t it,” I thought, glancing toward the floor.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">Then the prayer was ended and the songs of praise began.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">The shoe man was certainly loud sounding proud as he sang.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">His voice lifted the rafters; his hands were raised high.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">The Lord could surely hear The Shoe Man&#8217;s voice from the sky.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">It was time for the offering and what I threw in was steep.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">I watched as The Shoe Man reached into his pockets so deep.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">I saw what was pulled out; what the shoe man put in.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">Then I heard a soft “clink” as when silver hits tin.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">The sermon really bored me to tears, and that&#8217;s no lie.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">It was the same for the shoe man for tears fell from his eyes.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">At the end of the service as is the custom here.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">We must greet new visitors, and show them all good cheer.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">But I felt moved somehow and wanted to meet The Shoe Man.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">So after the closing prayer I reached over and shook his hand.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">He was old and his skin was dark, and his hair was truly a mess.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">But I thanked him for coming, for being our guest.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">He said, “My names&#8217; Charlie. I&#8217;m glad to meet you, my friend.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">There were tears in his eyes, but he had a large, wide grin.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Let me explain,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I&#8217;ve been coming here for months, and you&#8217;re the first to say hi.&#8221;</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">I know that my appearance is not like all the rest.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">But I really do try to always look my best.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">I always clean and polish my shoes before my very long walk.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">But by the time I get here they&#8217;re dirty and dusty, like chalk.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">My heart filled with pain, and I swallowed to hide my tears.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">As he continued to apologize for daring to sit so near</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">He said, “When I get here I know I must look a sight.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">But I thought if I could touch you, then maybe our souls might unite.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">I was silent for a moment knowing whatever was said</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">Would pale in comparison, so I spoke from my heart not my head.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">“&#8217;Oh, you&#8217;ve touched me,” I said, “and taught me, in part;</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">That the best of any man is what is found in his heart.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">The rest, I thought, this shoe man will never know.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">Like just how thankful I really am that his dirty old shoe touched my soul.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"><em>How lovely on the mountains Are the feet of him who brings good news, Who announces peace And brings good news of happiness, Who announces salvation, [And] says to Zion, &#8220;Your God reigns!&#8221; <span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">Isaiah 52:7 </span></span>(NAS)</em></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">Something that we all so easily forget that I was reminded of just the other day by a very close friend, “people are important.”<span>  </span>With that we can all remind ourselves what we like to teach children but neglect to remember as adults, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you!”</span></span></p>
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		<title>Snakes! Why Did It Have To Be Snakes?</title>
		<link>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2009/01/05/snakes-why-did-it-have-to-be-snakes/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 05 Jan 2009 18:06:19 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>encounterwbc</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts from Terry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Snake]]></category>

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No matter how many times I have seen Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, it still kind of creeps me out when he looks down from the top of the sandy, archeological dig to see the floor moving and says, “Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?”   
 
Over the years I have had [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=encounterwbc.wordpress.com&blog=2649723&post=271&subd=encounterwbc&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center;margin:0;"><img class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-282" title="snake-indy-j3" src="http://encounterwbc.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/snake-indy-j3.jpg?w=300&#038;h=219" alt="snake-indy-j3" width="300" height="219" /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">No matter how many times I have seen <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0082971/" target="_blank">Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark</a>, it still kind of creeps me out when he looks down from the top of the sandy, archeological dig to see the floor moving and says, “Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?”<span>   </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">Over the years I have had a few different encounters with, what a friend called, “ol’ no shoulders”.<span>  </span>I grew up hearing from my dad’s dad, who I called Dandy, “The only good snake is a dead snake.” And I must say that I agree.<span> On countless occasions as we would be fishing back in the slue, where my Grandparents lived in Riverside, <a href="http://www.riversidealabama.net/" target="_blank">Alabama</a>, it never failed that we would have a run in or two, or three with water <a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.southeasternoutdoors.com/wildlife/reptiles/images/water-moccasin.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.southeasternoutdoors.com/wildlife/reptiles/water-moccasin.html&amp;usg=__4e7SDfZxbXd5ZvaE18T3WZQ8Y0w=&amp;h=371&amp;w=425&amp;sz=73&amp;hl=en&amp;start=1&amp;um=1&amp;tbnid=CSnWwDnwp5JAiM:&amp;tbnh=110&amp;tbnw=126&amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dwater%2Bmoccasin%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26rls%3Den-us%26sa%3DX" target="_blank">moccasins</a>.<span>  </span>Dandy would run up to the house and get his single shot, 16 gauge, Steven’s shotgun, and he would come back down and take care of business.<span>  </span>The funny thing is we would swim all the time in that lake and never really thought anything about it, until we saw one swimming our way.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">I could tell about the time that I almost stepped on a black snake while I was hunting, or the time I was trout fishing on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hiwassee_River" target="_blank">Hiawassee River</a>, and a water snake swam right by me.<span>  </span>Then there was the coral snake I saw from a distance, which was just fine with me and also the four foot moccasin coiled up behind our AC unit in Birmingham.<span>  </span>Oh, and I can’t forget the one that came out of the hole in the old black inner tube, <em>that I was sitting on</em>, while I was turkey hunting with my friend Dave one year.<span>  </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">Which leads me to my latest meeting with “ol’ no shoulders”. We have recently been doing some work in our backyard, and as the weather and time has allowed, I have been doing the work little bit by little bit.<span>  </span>Anyway, I had done some prep work with a hard rake that I had purchased from <a href="http://www.homedepot.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/HomePageView?langId=-1&amp;storeId=10051&amp;catalogId=10053&amp;cm_mmc=RMI_STO_15_3_3_7-_-545_305-_-goog-_-bid942778-home_depot" target="_blank">Home Depot</a>.<span>  </span>After I had finished readying the ground, I proceeded to spread winter rye seed out over the back and side yard.<span>  </span>Then came the time to unload and cover the new seed with wheat straw.<span>  </span>After placing the bales out across the yard, I began to bust them open and spread them out.<span>  </span>I had made my way through 3 bails and was halfway through the 4th when I heard something that, at first, I decided to ignore.<span>  </span>After hearing it for about the 5th time, and passing it off as a very loud cricket or katydid, I reached back for the next hand full of straw a little bit slower and somewhat cautious. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">That was when it hit me!<span>  </span>Literally, a foot and a half long <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rattlesnake" target="_blank">rattler</a> hit my hand!<span>  </span>Needless to say it didn’t take me long to sling the straw away from under my arm.<span>  </span>I saw him trying to sneak away under the straw that had already been spread on the ground.<span>  </span>I ran over and grabbed his tail and flung him to the other side of the yard!<span>  </span>Grabbing my hard rake I ran over to him and proceeded to try to <span style="text-decoration:line-through;">hit</span> kill him.<span>  </span>In the midst of the excitement I had the rake prongs down and despite my repeated attempts to get him, I never managed to kill him, and he slithered up the hill towards my neighbor’s yard.<span>  </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">Realizing that I was not going to get him, I remembered that my hand had been struck.<span>  </span>I looked down very quickly and discovered that the snake had not managed to bite me. It just, well, it scared the daylights out of me.<span>  </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:&quot;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">Even though I have had many encounters with “ol’ no shoulders”, yet again, I have been fortunate to NOT be bitten.<span>  </span>There were, however, two lessons learned from this meeting. First, turn the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:SoilRake.jpg" target="_blank">hard rake</a> over when trying to kill a snake and second, check the straw bales for snakes before you start spreading it!<span>        </span></span></span></p>
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		<title>13 Sweetarts</title>
		<link>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2008/12/11/13-sweetarts/</link>
		<comments>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2008/12/11/13-sweetarts/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 11 Dec 2008 22:00:19 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>encounterwbc</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts from Terry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sweetart]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[
 

I know this is going to seem a bit odd, but I am going to share something with you that received a good bit of attention after I posted a video about it on Facebook a few days ago.  
 I was in my office on Friday morning and wanted something sweet; some candy sounded good.  [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=encounterwbc.wordpress.com&blog=2649723&post=267&subd=encounterwbc&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p><!--StartFragment--></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center;"><img class="aligncenter size-thumbnail wp-image-268" title="sweetarts-rolls" src="http://encounterwbc.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/sweetarts-rolls.jpg?w=122&#038;h=96" alt="sweetarts-rolls" width="122" height="96" /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I know this is going to seem a bit odd, but I am going to share something with you that received a good bit of attention after I posted a video about it on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=38177687691">Facebook</a> a few days ago.<span>  </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> I was in my office on Friday morning and wanted something sweet; some candy sounded good.<span>  </span>One of the ladies in our office always keeps a basket on the corner of her desk full of candy with a plethora of choices.<span>  </span>One of the things that are always in the basket is the miniature rolls of Sweetarts.<span>  </span>You know the ones that kind of look like Smarties.<span> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> I went across the hallway into the main office and grabbed myself a couple of packs.<span>  </span>I unrolled them and sat them next to my computer and began to eat them in twos as I always do.<span>  </span>Now before you think of me as strange, I have watched many different people as they eat their personal favorites, such as, M&amp;M’s – Skittles – Smarties. They eat them in twos, threes, by colors, well you get the point.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> So, I was eating my Sweetarts, two by two, when I discovered there was an odd number in the pack; thirteen to be exact.<span>  </span>Not that thirteen is a bad number, because if you remember from one of my earlier posts, <a href="http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2008/10/20/what-are-you/">thirteen</a> is my favorite number.<span> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> I went and looked at the other packs and they all have thirteen!<span>  </span>Why?<span>  </span>Why, thirteen?<span>  </span>This affects my eating them in twos, and leaves me with a difficult decision.<span>  </span>Do I eat the last one by itself, or do I toss it in the trash, to be alone, outcast, and humiliated?<span>  </span>The odd tart out, never able to bring the joy of its sweet &#8211; tartness to me or anyone else.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> I posted this as a video on Facebook, and let’s just say a lot of sarcasm followed.<span>  </span>I do have to admit it does seem a bit silly, ok stupid, but I still have to ask, WHY?<span>   </span>If anyone reading this post can supply the answer as to why thirteen Sweetarts, I would love to know.<span>  </span>Or if you can share with me how to get in touch with the <a href="http://www.wonka.com/">Willy Wonka Candy Company</a>, or Willy Wonka himself, I will gladly ask myself. </p>
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		<title>What Is It?</title>
		<link>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2008/12/01/what-is-it/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Dec 2008 21:29:27 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>encounterwbc</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts from Terry]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[
I was walking down Music Row the other night in Nashville, TN. One of my Youth Leaders and I, while at a Youth Specialties Conference, decided that we wanted a quick bite to eat.  As we were looking around at all of the places to eat, we noticed the busy lines at many of the restaurants.  Then [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=encounterwbc.wordpress.com&blog=2649723&post=255&subd=encounterwbc&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p><!--StartFragment--></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://encounterwbc.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/hot-dog-stand.jpg"><img class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-256" title="hot-dog-stand" src="http://encounterwbc.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/hot-dog-stand.jpg?w=186&#038;h=240" alt="hot-dog-stand" width="186" height="240" /></a>I was walking down Music Row the other night in Nashville, TN.<span> One of my Youth Leaders and I, while at a <a href="http://www.youthspecialties.com/" target="_blank">Youth Specialties </a>Conference, decided that we wanted a quick bite to eat.<span>  </span>As we were looking around at all of the places to eat, we noticed the busy lines at many of the restaurants.<span>  </span>Then there it was a rolling Hotdog stand, with no line.<span>  </span>Now, I know you might think that should have been our first clue, but oh well.<span>  </span>As the first order was placed, the question was asked, “What about chili?” At which point we were told, “I am not allowed to sale anything with meat in it.”<span>  </span>Before I continue, this should have been our second clue, that we should have stayed away.<span>  </span>At this point we asked, “But isn’t a hotdog…” We were quickly interrupted, and somewhat sarcastically answered, “Look do you really want me to explain it or, do you just want the mustard?”<span>  </span>This should have been our third and final clue to run far away.<span>  </span>So with all this in mind, if there is presumably meat in chili, what then can we assume was in the hotdog?<span>  </span>I will leave you with that to ponder on your own, and consider the next time you bite into a nice, juicy dog!</span></p>
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		<title>Theology According To My 1st Grader</title>
		<link>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2008/11/30/theology-according-to-my-1st-grader/</link>
		<comments>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2008/11/30/theology-according-to-my-1st-grader/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 30 Nov 2008 20:21:12 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>encounterwbc</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts from Terry]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[
While doing homework with my son the other day we had to pick a book, read it, and complete a very simple book report.  After deciding on which book to read we started our way through its pages, I began to realize that the book that we had chosen was a bit longer than I [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=encounterwbc.wordpress.com&blog=2649723&post=250&subd=encounterwbc&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p><!--StartFragment--></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">While doing homework with my son the other day we had to pick a book, read it, and complete a very simple book report.<span>  </span>After deciding on which book to read we started our way through its pages, I began to realize that the book that we had chosen was a bit longer than I thought.<span>  </span>It was somewhat longer than it really needed to be for the type of report he was doing.<span>  </span>We continued to make our way through, as I noticed it was not just my son’s attention span that was failing.<span>  </span>I had reached the point of, battling, staying with the story and not allowing my mind to go elsewhere.<span>  </span>He was beginning to wiggle, squirm, get the fidgets and so on.<span>  </span>You know the things that first grade boys do naturally.<span> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At this point he stopped. Then started to look ahead and count the number of pages he, well we, had left to read.<span>  </span>I told him he had done a great job and I would take over for the last few pages. I began to read as we made our way to the last two pages he said, “wait”!<span>  </span>He took the book back and placed it in front of him, he read the last two pages.<span>  </span>He closed the book turned to me with a very big smile and said, “see dad, if you just keep going you’ll eventually get to the end”.<span>  </span>I smiled back and said, “yep son your right, we just got to keep on going”.<span> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I thought to myself later that night, if we could just have that mind set about so many different things we all would be a lot better off!<span>      <a href="http://encounterwbc.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/the-thinker1.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-252" title="the-thinker1" src="http://encounterwbc.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/the-thinker1.jpg?w=201&#038;h=300" alt="the-thinker1" width="201" height="300" /></a> </span></p>
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		<title>Be Careful What You Say!</title>
		<link>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2008/11/25/be-careful-what-you-say/</link>
		<comments>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2008/11/25/be-careful-what-you-say/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 25 Nov 2008 18:55:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>encounterwbc</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts from Terry]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/?p=247</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[
A young man named John received a parrot as a gift. The parrot had a bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Every word out of the bird’s mouth was rude, obnoxious and laced with profanity.  John tried and tried to change the bird&#8217;s attitude by consistently saying only polite words, playing soft music and anything else he could think [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=encounterwbc.wordpress.com&blog=2649723&post=247&subd=encounterwbc&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p><!--StartFragment--></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span>A young man named John received a parrot as a gift. The parrot had a bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Every word out of the bird’s mouth was rude, obnoxious and laced with profanity.  John tried and tried to change the bird&#8217;s attitude by consistently saying only polite words, playing soft music and anything else he could think of to “clean up” the bird&#8217;s vocabulary.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span>Finally, John was fed up and he yelled at the parrot. The parrot yelled back. John shook the parrot and the parrot got angrier and even more rude. John, in desperation, threw up his hand, grabbed the bird and put him in the freezer. For a few minutes the parrot squawked, kicked and screamed.   Then suddenly there was total quiet.  Not a “PEEP”, was heard for over a minute.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span> <!--StartFragment--> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span>Fearing that he&#8217;d hurt the parrot, John quickly opened the door to the freezer.  The parrot calmly stepped out onto John&#8217;s outstretched arms and said &#8220;I believe I may have offended you with my rude language and actions.  I&#8217;m sincerely remorseful for my inappropriate transgressions and I fully intend to do everything I can to correct my rude and unforgivable behavior.<span>  </span>I am truly sorry.&#8221;</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span> <!--StartFragment--> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span>John, stunned at the change in attitude.  Just as he was about to ask the parrot what had made such a dramatic change in his behavior, the bird continued, &#8220;May I ask, what the turkey did?&#8221;</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span><img class="alignnone size-thumbnail wp-image-248" title="old-fridge" src="http://encounterwbc.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/old-fridge.jpg?w=55&#038;h=96" alt="old-fridge" width="55" height="96" /> HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!</span></p>
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		<title>Wash Car</title>
		<link>http://encounterwbc.wordpress.com/2008/11/14/wash-car/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 14 Nov 2008 05:50:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>encounterwbc</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts from Terry]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I somewhat remember going to the car wash as a kid.  My mother has told me that, like most kids, I did not like it.  Ok, ok, I was scared of it.  And, just like myself, I am sure many other kids grew up being scared of the car wash.  Let’s face it, despite what [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=encounterwbc.wordpress.com&blog=2649723&post=240&subd=encounterwbc&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">I somewhat remember going to the car wash as a kid.<span>  </span>My mother has told me that, like most kids, I did not like it.<span>  </span>Ok, ok, I was scared of it.<span>  </span>And, just like myself, I am sure many other kids grew up being scared of the car wash. <span> </span>Let’s face it, despite what you were told as a child or what you have told your own children to comfort them as you passed through a car wash, we can all admit that it can be a little overwhelming and scary.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">I was taking my truck through the car wash a few days ago, due to the fact that it had been a while since it had been cleaned. My little princess was with me for the day and we were out running errands.<span>  </span>As we pulled into the line of the “wash car” as she puts it, she said, “Dad, I do not like the wash car.”<span>  </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">I was in the process of paying with the interactive video screen, and I could see that her tears were in the process of welling up in her eyes.<span>  </span>Despite my efforts to come up with a good distraction to keep her mind from what was about to happen, the sweet, gentle tears started to flow down her face.<span>  </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">Just as we were about to enter into the spooky tunnel, my little princess said, “I think I might be ok if I could come sit with my daddy.”<span>  </span>I told her to undo her seat belt and climb up into my lap.<span>  </span>She took my arms and put them around her and in we went.<span>  </span>I told her to pretend that is was like big pieces of red and black spaghetti.<span>  </span>I encouraged her as I began to try to grab and eat it because it was almost lunch time and I was hungry.<span>  </span>Then came the water spraying to rinse off the soap, she decided this was just a big shower for cars and trucks, but almost too loud.<span>  </span>At this point, the “big air” began to dry us off.<span>  </span>I thought, “Oh well, here we go, because it was really loud.<span>  </span>As the air started to hit the truck, she said. “It is a big hair dryer, like when mommy dries mine.” </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:small;">As we made our way out she said, “Dad, I am glad you let me sit up here with you. I know I am safe when I am with you.”</span></span></p>
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