Fruitful Labor

Fruitful labor, what a delight;
To do the chores of the day, it is not a fight!
Awake each day, to hear peoples' plight,
Direct them to Jesus, He is the Light!

Trust in Him, He is our might,
Forever on Him shall be our sight,
Till the day we embark on heaven's flight,
Fruitful labor, what a delight!

Fruitful Labor by The Pilgrim

Favorite Movie - Rudy

Sometimes a winner is a dreamer who just won't quit.
When people say dreams don't come true, tell them about Rudy.

http://www.rudyinternational.com/video/video1.html

Coincidences? Not!

V: [Evey pulls out her mace] I can assure you I mean you no harm.
Evey Hammond: Who are you?
V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what and what I am is a man in a mask.
Evey Hammond: Well I can see that.
V: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.
Evey Hammond: Oh. Right.
V: But on this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona.
V: Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.
[carves V into poster on wall]
V: The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.
[giggles]
V: Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
Evey Hammond: Are you like a crazy person?
V: I am quite sure they will say so. But, to whom am I speaking with?
Evey Hammond: I'm Evey.
V: Evey? E-V. Of course you are.
Evey Hammond: What does that mean?
V: It means that I, like God, do not play with dice and I don't believe in coincidences.

V for Vendetta

Ratatouille

In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize that only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more.

Anton Ego, Ratatouille

Resurrection Rules Still

No matter what is stolen,
No matter what is killed,
No matter what lays in ruin,
Resurrection Rules Still.

The stolen life will be returned,
To more splendor than before.
The Faithful shall be rewarded,
With abundant life and more!

Dreams that have compromised and died,
Will be wakened from their graves.
Though the timing has already changed,
They are accomplished in some other ways.

Relationships that are destroyed,
With selfishness and pride,
In the Lord's furnace they burn again,
To come out as gold as bright.

Resurrection Rules Still by The Pilgrim

Who Would True Valor See

Who would true valour see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather
There’s no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.

Whoso beset him round
With dismal stories
Do but themselves confound;
His strength the more is.
No lion can him fright,
He’ll with a giant fight,
He will have a right
To be a pilgrim.

Hobgoblin nor foul fiend
Can daunt his spirit,
He knows he at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies fly away,
He’ll fear not what men say,
He’ll labor night and day
To be a pilgrim.

Who Would True Valor See by John Bunyan

The Clown Fish

No one else can take a joke
Better than this friend.
Though a real clown he is not,
With him laughter never ends.

A Fish that knows the oceans,
Much knowledge gained from cyber-seas.
With a “I’m feeling lucky”,
He conquers the net with ease.

No longer just in stripes and checks,
He looks better with each passing day,
“Much more handsome he has become”,
This I often hear people say.

A man who goes out of his way,
To bless those he oversee.
Allowing God to challenge and mould him,
A mighty fine man he will be.

The Clown Fish by Pilgrim