Peace — Page 41

The Best Priests

July 13, 2018 By ChuckBehrens Leave a Comment

(Photo by Dr. Kevin Dieter)

The best things aren’t THINGS

and the Best Priests aren’t Priests at all. . .

I wasn’t looking for it Wednesday night

but IT

found me

and quite a few others, I imagine. . .

Here’s hoping that this little blog post will do its part

in helping it find countless others who are not

actively seeking

and finding treasure

just the same. . .

Like so many these past couple of weeks, I’ve been captivated by the NOW SUCCESSFUL rescue efforts of the daring divers who saved 12 soccer boys and their coach from a flooded cave. . .

I wasn’t there

I assisted no one

I offered no extended hand

Gave no money

but

I prayed;

sent up humble well meaning good intentions

along with countless others

and like those countless others

felt deep relief

felt a warm gratitude;

f e l t

but Dr. Dieter summed it up better than any CNN, Fox News Reporter and certainly much better than my meager blog post when he wrote in his Face Book post on Wednesday night, July 10, 2018:

People of different nations, differing faith traditions, different “military forces”…all PRAYING to their version of God…working together, despite differences, to risk their lives and spend time and treasure to do GOOD…
The mission leaders today acknowledging that they expected failure, the odds were too great…
BUT…the forecasted rains did not come…the pump that kept much of the water out of the caves did not fail until the last of the heroes were out of danger…
The one life lost, I suspect, felt honored as a Seal to give his life for his comrades and the lives of 12 boys and their brave coach…he did not have to take a life to save lives…
Prayer. Trust. Community.

Dr. Kevin Dieter is an awesome Hospice doctor who is more Pastoral and Priestly than I will ever fully be as a Hospice chaplain of nearly a quarter of a century and counting. Kevin, like so many Housekeeping, Home Health Aids, Nurses, Nurse Practitioners, Social Workers, Expressive Therapists, Bereavement Coordinators do a much better job at my job than I do, mostly because it’s not expected or suspected of them; they do more than I can or will ever do mostly because they are in places and better still, AT THE PLACES in the lives of those THEY SERVE than I will ever be;

THEIR’S is a sacred work without Vestments, Testaments, Hymnals, Rosaries, Liturgies, Incense or Anointing Oils. . .

THEIR’S is a healing potion of magical PRESENCE that they produce merely by just SHOWING UP (and not leaving even when they are not physically present)

THEIR’S is a Holy Work that seeks not and often finds no renumeration, special thanks or much recognition

THEIR’S is a Country without borders you already reside but seldom recognize

THEIR’S is a Sanctuary without walls where all are welcomed and better,

h e a l e d

and I

like so many, many innumerable others

am a humble beneficiary

m e n d e d

by their kindness

r e m e d i e d

by their compassion

r e s t o r e d

by their empathy

enough to recognize that

this blessed beggar

is inspired to not only show

but bring other petitioners

T H A T

same healing presence

LET THIS BE YOUR ORDINATION DAY

for a world that seeks your

w a r m h e a r t e d n e s s

G I V E

T H E M

THEIR EXPERIENCE
(o f t e n)

WE CROAK

June 22, 2018 By ChuckBehrens Leave a Comment

It’s pretty harsh isn’t it ?

W E C R O A K

It’s an actual app you can get on your smart phone and five times a day it reminds you that you’re going to die. Now gives some nice messages and philosophical view points:

a n d

F I V E T I M E S A D A Y

But no matter how it’s sweetened, no matter how the edges are softened, the fact of the matter is true:
We are going to die; or as the app promises:

W E C R O A K

You’d think after being with hospice since 1994;
Working as a hospital chaplain since 1987
and being an ordained minister since 1980
I would get this. . .

Make no mistake about it, I believe it. I know it, I know we’re gonna die,
I know I’m gonna die; I know it, I know that I know it, I’d bet my life that I know it (no pun intended) but if I didn’t wake up tomorrow morning, or if I didn’t make it home tonight, or if I had a heart attack after putting the period on this Blog post or even in the middle of it,
I would be the most shocked person in the world. . .

This past week a colleague of mine died. He was a true GENTLE MAN; One of the kindest most compassionate people I’ve ever worked with or have ever known. He’s younger than me, has had six less Christmas’ than I’ve celebrated; He’s been a caregiver for his mother and his brother and other family members and countless hospital,l nursing home, and hospice patients. To him working was never a job or a vocation; caring for people was his lifestyle. He rivaled no others in the care that he gave.
His love, his compassion, his gentleness, his care, didn’t keep him from getting pancreatic cancer; it didn’t keep him from dying. Though he gave so much in a not so perfect world, he wasn’t immune from this thing that we call death, in fact, DEATH awaits all of us and serves as a reminder, at any given time, any given moment. . .
I may be next.

That’s not the tragedy if there is one. . .
The WOE is I might not be aware of living every moment that I have available to me. In all the years that I’ve served others, not one dying patient has shown me in return how to die, but I can’t remember one who hasn’t illustrated in living vivid color how to live.

W E C R O A K

We die
The question is do we ever really
L I V E
Fully. exuberantly. zestfully. without any regrets. . .
We don’t answer with our mouth‘s or thoughts only with her actions on this one;
A N O T H E R
well. . .
they don’t get to judge whether or not we’ve done those things with this
L I V I N G
w e d o. . .

I met with his team this past Tuesday and we remembered him and honored him with reminiscing, once upon a timing, and remember when’s;
We laughed; we cried; but most of all we remembered;

I asked them as I now ask you, if we had an opportunity to walk through a set of magical doors and it meant that we were no longer shed a tear we would have no regrets there would be no pain of loss bereavement in grief would have no means whatsoever but it would also mean that we never had the chance the opportunity to blessing to have a loved one in our life would you choose the walk through those magical doors that somehow right now don’t seem quite so magical. . .

Doubtful, huh?

Maybe it was because of his age
or just his gentle kindness
How can you not ask this question of him and others:
WHY
HOW COME
WHAT FOR. . ?

But it also means having the guts to flip that coin over and ask the same questions of WHY
WHAT FOR
HOW COME
a loved one ever GIFTS themselves in our lives. . ?

I passed a basket of stones around and instructed each person there to let us don’t use them instead of them choosing one. I reached in and chose a black one I didn’t look for it I didn’t go by for your site or touch your sense of smell when I pulled it out

IT looked a little marred, scarred, almost as if the stone itself was wrapping around its imperfections. It instantly reminded me of him; that’s what he did; He wrapped himself around your heart; your pain; your anxiety; your fear; and had a way of making it better just with an infectious smile.

After we each had a rock, a stone which chose us, I told them that there is one thing stronger than the stone or rock which is ageless in our life and that’s love that’s why we have grave stones or grave markers made of granite, or rock or some kind of hard stone because it not only survives the test of time, but it’s only surpassed, over powered, and falls severely short of one thing, STRONGER:

O U R L O V E

True, right. . .?

MEMORIES are nothing unless interwoven with OUR LOVE

W E C R O A K

Yes

W e d i e. . .

And our memories ~~well they mean nothing, nothing at all unless there’s love attached to them that literally makes them everything that they were everything that they are in everything that they’ve always be.

Wow. We are a bunch of losers, aren’t we. . .
We’ve lost not keys, not glasses, not remote controls, or pens; not an article of clothing or piece of jewelry;

NO. . . we’ve lost. . . lost people that are so dear to us;
Precious, priceless Gifts and yet, having lost, look at all we’ve gained because they have been a part of our lives and always will be
And that never croaks or dies

THEIR’S

is a RIPPLE

that has lapped upon OUR SHORES

Hopefully, that’ll cause endless RIPPLES

that’ll lap up on the Shores of Countless Others. . .

The Ultimate Response?

TWO WORDS:

T H A N K Y O U

Cha-Cha-Cha-CHILLING

June 20, 2018 By ChuckBehrens Leave a Comment

Muriel de Seze—Getty Images

BRIAN O’CONNOR is a professor of philosophy at University College Dublin and the author of Idleness: A Philosophical Essay. . .

And he has some really interesting things to say about

plain-ordinary-kick-back-put-your-feet-and-don’t-do-a-thing-NOTHINGNESS

From the age of Enlightenment onward, philosophers, political leaders and moral authorities of many kinds have tried to convince us that work is one of the most important opportunities for freedom. Through work, we can become a somebody, relish the esteem we gain, structure our lives and, while we are at it, contribute nobly to the common good. This is a strange brew of ideas, but one that has seeped deeper into our psyche than we may realize. . .

R E S O N A T E ?

We develop a craving for recognition that is rarely satisfied. We need to be seen and admired, pushed along by a narcissism that doesn’t really believe in itself, but doesn’t know how to stop. We depend on the approval of strangers with needs of their own. Self-satisfaction proves elusive. If we are lucky enough to accomplish one thing, another seemingly compelling challenge — or even just an after-hours email — steps in to give us a new worry.

Leisure today is, for many people, a glimpse at what it would be like to do nothing for more than a few hours. It is — or at least it used to be — downtime, lazing away, forgetting the bothers of the workplace. We use our allowance of paid vacation to recharge the batteries, address some level of emotional well-being… and gear up for a return to work. Leisure, in this way, is incorporated into the world of work. It is not a subversion of it.

And this is how many want it to be. Doing nothing at all, the thought goes, is good up to a point. But over-doing nothing is boring. In that light, modern work practices look just right. They respect, one might naively think, our natural moderate desire for idleness — paid vacation time — and the deeper need to keep ourselves busy.

It was not always this way. In 1963, the German writer Heinrich Böll published a fictional story of a visitor to a small fishing village somewhere in the West of Europe. His visitor carries with him the full conviction of the work ethic. Spotting an apparently lazy local fisherman resting in his boat, the visitor asks impatiently why the man doesn’t spend more time fishing, catching more, eventually building a lucrative multi-vessel business. With that effort, he could hope to work his way towards time away from work. It falls to the simple but not so naive fisherman to point out the irony of that recommendation. With no pressure to make something of himself, the fisherman is free — enviably so. He has what many seek: his own idle time. He has it by default. His circumstances may have been remarkably fortunate, yet Böll’s story captures a recognizable time when work was considered a necessary evil, second in value to other goods like friendship, rest and community.

It may be unrealistic to believe we could return to a world like that. And there are dangers of wishful thinking in believing such a world was ever successful in meeting the fundamental range of human needs — our emotional, material and intellectual needs. Our unqualified belief in progress especially affords it little credibility. There is nothing commendable about leaving all work to others, or in pretending that no level of work is essential to survival. Economic precariousness is not just dangerous to one’s health but also psychologically draining. (It is telling that a common perception of people out of work or down on their luck — that they are lazy — is infected with the supposed moral virtue of busyness.) In society today, we cannot forget these facts — and realize that it will be difficult to decouple ourselves from our deep socialization as useful workers. . .

W A I T. . .W H A T ?

Great philosophers have argued that we have nothing to learn from ways of life that exists outside the busy world of western civilization. But if we have some hunch that the world we have today demands too much effort in return for too little happiness, we could do worse than to see what we can learn from those other forms of living. The potential in idleness for greater freedom seems worth the exploration. Or at least an attempt to think about what prevents us from truly doing nothing right now. . .

R E M E B E R :

BURN OUT sometimes happen NOT when you put too many logs on the Fire, but when you remove THEM ALL, or too many. . .

JUST MAKE SURE THEY ARE THE RIGHT LOGS

and B U R N

Warmer

and B U R N

Brighter

P E A C E

comes in many forms and in many ways

BUT IT COMES
(if you let it)

S A U N T E R I N G

April 6, 2018 By ChuckBehrens Leave a Comment

Have you done it lately. . .

S A U N T E R E D

I just complete a few days of doing that along the Florida coastline

from Clearwater to Tarpon Springs

I S A U N T E R E D. . .

My knees no longer let me run

My knees no longer let me walk great distances

Q U I C K L Y

So now I

s a u n t e r

and I’ve got to tell you

Seaside Sauntering is my absolute favorite

Henry David Thoreau, in an essay on walking,

explained the origin of the word

s a u n t e r

He says the term comes from the Middle Ages

when wandering pilgrims would beg for alms

to finance their journey to

“la saint terre”

“T H E H O L Y L A N D”

I can’t overwhelming vouch for the origin of the word

but I’m more and more understanding Thoreau’s theory is in doubt,

but I do like his explanation better than any I’ve heard

because more and more

I’m becoming a

S A U N T E R E R

a true W a n d e r i n g W O N D E R E R

who needs to wander

and wonder

a little bit more than what I have. . .

Let’s hear it for true sauntering. . .

My dictionary tells me the word

“as to wander or walk about idly and in the leisurely or lazy manner; to lounge; to stroll; to loiter”

W H O A

I’m not so sure that’s 100% me yet

or if I would like it to be bigger percentage of me. . .

a loiterer

in no particular hurry

taking time to see the world around me

sampling it along the way. . .

Not a whole lot of people saunter about these days. . .

Everyone seems to be in a hurry

to get to somewhere

and do something

running off to this meeting

or taking care of that obligation

signing up for one course

or another continuing education opportunity

frantically working out our own ways

that often lead down not-so-getting-to-where-you-need-to-be-destinations

I found out in a magical kind of way

these past couple of days

S A U N T E R I N G I S A N A R T

No one taught me better than that than

G E O R G E

who would SAUNTER

up to our Breakfast table and

not-so-sneakily-ate-off-my-plate

scraps I wasn’t scrappy enough to gobble up first

Our waitress, Susan told us that George

had been a regular the past 10 or so years

and was a not only a Eater’s Favorite

but a great Professor of

S A U N T E R I N G

with the truest of lessons:

THE COURSE:

SAUNTERING LEADS TO DEEPER CARING AND COMPASSION 101

and just when you might be thinking that this course might be for the birds;

S A U N T E R

on and

S A U N T E R I N G L Y WONDER

a g a i n

t o g l o r y

In the meantime,

I’ll have to look into the legal ramifications of my

l o i t e r i n g

charges. . .

O N E

February 5, 2018 By ChuckBehrens Leave a Comment

Every year in

Louisville, KY

the first week of February

a group of nearly 1000 students

from all around the state of Kentucky

gather together each evening during the

K M E A Conference

to sing our great nation’s

National Anthem. . .

While I have never been at the

Louisville, KY Hyatt Regency Hotel

to witness this moment

I feel very much a part of it

even now

listening to it sung

almost as a

l u l l a b y. . .

As a Caring Catalyst

I am never much about

making political statements

or backing candidates

or politcal parties

or even espousing

governmental sentiments

so much as

working towards a

u n i t y

that

brings us together as

o n e

like never before. . .

W h e n

I hear something like this

I feel a little closer to

T H A T

o n e

that need not be a dream

any longer for

any

o n e. . .

You don’t have to see my hand

to know

it’s extended to join yours

to know

to bet our very lives

that we don’t have to agree

to be

o n e

and realize

it’s been a part of the

e q u a t i o n

to make

I T

o n e

a l l a l o n g!

Merry PRACTICE CHRISTMAS

September 25, 2017 By ChuckBehrens Leave a Comment

Uhhhhhhh, if you know even a little bit about me. . ,

It’s that I adore Christmas. . .

Every year

Every Season

Every Month

Every Week

Every Day

Every Minute

Every Second

OF IT. . .

W H Y ?

Here’s a little Explanation:

When A N O T H E R

says something

better than you could ever

u t t e r

w r i t e

r e c i t e. . .

Give’em the Stage

and the Microphone

and most definitely,

T H E S P O T L I G H T

and don’t shut up

so much as really

L I S T E N :

This Henry van Dyke story is featured in our collection of Christmas Stories. and Short-Short Stories to read when you have five minutes to spare. You might enjoy his other works, The Other Wise Man and The First Christmas Tree

It is a good thing to observe Christmas day. The mere marking of times and seasons, when men agree to stop work and make merry together, is a wise and wholesome custom. It helps one to feel the supremacy of the common life over the individual life. It reminds a man to set his own little watch, now and then, by the great clock of humanity which runs on sun time.

But there is a better thing than the observance of Christmas day, and that is, keeping Christmas.

Are you willing to forget what you have done for other people, and to remember what other people have done for you; to ignore what the world owes you, and to think what you owe the world; to put your rights in the background, and your duties in the middle distance, and your chances to do a little more than your duty in the foreground; to see that your fellow-men are just as real as you are, and try to look behind their faces to their hearts, hungry for joy; to own that probably the only good reason for your existence is not what you are going to get out of life, but what you are going to give to life; to close your book of complaints against the management of the universe, and look around you for a place where you can sow a few seeds of happiness–are you willing to do these things even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas.

Are you willing to stoop down and consider the needs and the desires of little children; to remember the weakness and loneliness of people who are growing old; to stop asking how much your friends love you, and ask yourself whether you love them enough; to bear in mind the things that other people have to bear on their hearts; to try to understand what those who live in the same house with you really want, without waiting for them to tell you; to trim your lamp so that it will give more light and less smoke, and to carry it in front so that your shadow will fall behind you; to make a grave for your ugly thoughts, and a garden for your kindly feelings, with the gate open–are you willing to do these things even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas.

Are you willing to believe that love is the strongest thing in the world–stronger than hate, stronger than evil, stronger than death–and that the blessed life which began in Bethlehem nineteen hundred years ago is the image and brightness of the Eternal Love? Then you can keep Christmas.

And if you keep it for a day, why not always?

But you can never keep it alone.

L I S T E N :

Sometimes FROM A DISTANCE

We’ve never seen

what we’ve needed to seen any

C L O S E R

. . . So

Go hug a tree

Hopefully a lit Christmas Tree. . .

Even if

E S P E C I A L L Y I F

It’s a Charlie Brown variety. . .

Bring the Season

TO THE NOW

. . .and keep I T there!

For an E V E R

and then an

E V E R M O R E

The POEM of YOU

July 14, 2017 By ChuckBehrens Leave a Comment

We don’t often put

P E N

P A P E R

l i t e r a l l y

but it never leaves the pages

of our lives

that are continually

being

written

edited

re-written.

It was about four years ago when I read

A L L O W A B L E S

Niki Giovanni

and then

B A M

there it was

falling out of a book

that I didn’t even remember

I had placed it

and then within an hour

in a post from Frank Ostaseski

I killed a spider

Not a murderous brown recluse

Nor even the black widow

And if the truth were told this

Was only a small

Sort of papery spider

Who should have run

When I picked up the book

But she didn’t

And she scared me

And I smashed her

I don’t think

I am allowed

To kill something

Because I am

Frightened

The poem didn’t have the impact in 2013

that it did when I re-read it

July 13, 2017

A C C I D E N T L Y

C O I N C I D E N T L Y

I N T E N T I O N A L L Y

Is this a simple concept?

TO REFRAIN FROM KILLING ANY LIVING BEING, CULTIVATE THE PRACTICE OF HONORING ALL LIFE

Thich Nhat Hahn once said:

“Aware of the suffering caused by the destruction of life, I vow to cultivate compassion and learn ways to protect the lives of people, animals and plants. I am determined not to kill, not to let others kill, I cannot condone any act of killing in the world in my thinking and in my way of life.”

Q U E S T I O N :

How do you we practice t h a t quote

as we see and read of the violence in our world?

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh of the Day:

This is where our Pen comes to Paper

This is where the

P O E M

of our lives

is not only written

not only read

not only heard

not only seen

but truly

e x p e r i e n c e d

L I V E D

and it starts

with my

pen

and it starts

with my

paper

and it starts

with my

poem

not someone else’s

j o i n

so that the poem

not only becomes

epic

but continues long past the last stroke of

our

pens

PUNCTUATED

May 10, 2017 By ChuckBehrens 4 Comments

Hurt people hurt people. . .

especially themselves

I don’t keep those statistics. . .

over thirty-six years I don’t know how many Celebrations of Life I’ve conducted of those who have committed suicide. . .

Personally, I find only still-born or infant/children Celebrations of Life more difficult to do and

. . .to understand.

He literally kept his truck running as he pulled into a parking lot near a bridge and ran to it, full force, until reaching the middle and then without hesitation he hurled himself over the edge to the 200 foot plunge to a ravine below.

W H Y ?

She had just had a long, but painful relationship come to an end. She ran herself a bath, lined the tub with candles and framed pictures of them–dances, weddings, New Year’s Eve parties, vacations, the recently passed Christmas, kissing under a sprig of Mistletoe they both held above their heads. A CD they had compiled was playing as she laid back in the warm water and slit her wrists and ankles.

W H Y ?

She received a diagnosis of not just cancer, but cancer that has in fact, metastasized but decided not to let the disease take her life when she could control, the how, the when and the where. . .and did with some meds that she stockpiled and went to bed, to sleep forever one snowy night.

W H Y ?

Straw is lighter than a whisper without a breeze

. . .unless it’s the last one. . .

the one that makes whatever load born now incredibly

u n b e a r a b l e

Such a piece of hay was his

as he faced yet one more strand of straw with the news of possible incarceration

and he walked in front of an oncoming train.

W H Y ?

The studies will tell you that 90% of the people are dealing with a mental illness at the time of their death.

In the end,

because there is the end,

it really doesn’t matter if it’s because of depression or psychosis,

or an impulse,

or a crying out for help,

or a philosophical desire to die or because of terrible mistake made. . .

there’s an end;

I’ve just recently come across an idea I’d never heard or seen before

that spoke to me not so much in words, but

p u n c t u a t i o n. . .

It’s called:

THE PUNCTUATION PROJECT

and it’s purpose is the use the semicolon when a sentence could have ended

. . .but didn’t;

The movement is for anyone who has ever self-harmed

has a personality disorder

or has tried to kill themselves.

The semicolon is being used as a sign,

a symbol of hope.

It’s s h o u t i n g out:

“YOUR SENTENCE IS NOT OVER YET!”

The movement seems to be catching on because,

obviously it’s not just a Robin Williams-like celebrity that commits suicide;

Many are getting it ‘inked’ on their wrists or other parts of their bodies.

;

I think it’s growing on me. . .

this semicolon symbol. . .

and if it just allows one. . .

j u s t o n e

person to keep their sentence moving,

well then. . .

Mother Theresa once said:

“THERE IS MORE HUNGER IN THE WORLD FOR LOVE AND APPRECIATION THAN FOR BREAD.”

Indeed. . .

the World is one hungry place. . .

but you have all the food necessary to feed one

or all carrying that one, single,

devastating piece of straw.

It just may be a phone call,

whether one made to you or the one you share at the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255

or share: suicidepreventionlifeline.org.

There is no greater sentence in anyone’s book more powerful than the one that’s lived;

punctuated with exclamation points of

love,

acceptance,

compassion

and understanding—

all within your DNA.

H e a l e d p e o p l e h e a l e d p e o p l e

More than Stuffing

April 28, 2017 By ChuckBehrens 4 Comments

Well. . .did you?

I did.

Zippy.

I don’t remember when I got him, but I remember when he went away mysteriously one day.

I was crushed. . .

I r e m e m b e r.

Psychologists call that a security or transitional object.

Of course there have been studies about this.

There are no real numbers on how many people actually carry around a childhood pillow,

blankie or stuffed animal,

but a recent survey of 6000 British adults by the hotel chain Travelodge

found that 35% admitted to sleeping with such an object.

Surprised?

Up until very recently,

it was thought to be bad,

but in the Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology in 2000,

it was found that those with a transitional object

experienced less distress, as measured by blood pressure and heart rate.

Apparently

S E C U R I T Y B L A N K E T S

really do live up to their name.

I visited a lady in a dementia unit recently who was holding a stuffed animal.

We talked briefly about some of the photographs in her room

of family and pets and she blurted out,

“You, YOU can go now. But he’s staying,”

she said as she clung and hugged her stuffed animal even closer.

I thanked her for letting me stop by;

she wanted me to pray for her and her stuff animal before I left.

It was as short prayer.

I left wondering. . .

A couple of presentations

. . . a few conversations later,

I’m still wondering.

W H Y ?

Why the clinging to a stuffed animal,

blankie,

pillow

or any other lifeless object?

I’ve asked it of a couple of groups and a more than a few individuals now.

I’m not sure that that there’s a definitive answer,

but some that have been offered are:

Non-Judgmental

Accepting

Unconditional love

Peaceful

Security

Who knows really?

The thing I wonder about the most though,

is if this

t r a n s i t i o n a l o b j e c t

can provide all or each of those things–

what about me?

How much more so can I?

P R E S E N C E

is one of the most powerful,

non-evasive,

Nonpharmacological,

least expensive,

cheapest,

EFFECTIVE

ways ever discovered to provide

h e a l i n g !

Maybe what I wonder most. . .

Who could have ever imagined

j u s t b y s h o w i n g u p

the most amazing things can take place

over and over and over

again and again and again and. . . . ?

Now T H A T ‘ S the stuffing we’re all made.

(Don’t let it go to waste)

TABLE’D U P

February 20, 2017 By ChuckBehrens Leave a Comment

https://youtu.be/vDuA9OPyp6I

A R E Y O U H U N G R Y ?

For what?

Steak?

Potatoes?

Salad?

Broccoli?

Corn?

Mashed Potatoes?

Spanish Rice?

Shrimp and Grits?

Ribs?

Eggs, Bacon and Homefries?

A Grande Breve Latte?

Cake?

Pie?

Sherbert?

Rootbeer Float?

Milkshake?

Cookies?

Candy Bars?

Tic Tac’s?

Gum?

Popcorn?

Well. . .

that which feeds you,

r e a l l y

r e a l l y

feeds you. . .

E A T Y O U R F I L L

Feed the Beast

and Feed it often

until you’re slothingly

F U L L

and. . .

don’t go hungry

ever again. . .

and more. . .

f e e d a n o t h e r

and really take care

of the

hunger problem!

Maybe what the world needs now

is just a huge table full of

hungry people

willing to share

t h e i r b e s t s

to the left

and right of them

and not being ashamed

to go for the

s e c o n d s

t h i r d s. . .

T a b l e U P

Bon appetit

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