Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
353 New Species Discovered in the Himalayas
Asian Babbler BirdThis story is so interesting!!
KATMANDU, Nepal — The world's smallest deer, a flying frog and catfish that stick to rocks — as well as more than 350 other species — have been discovered over the past decade in the Himalayas, making it one of the world's most biologically rich regions, an environmental group said Monday.
KATMANDU, Nepal — The world's smallest deer, a flying frog and catfish that stick to rocks — as well as more than 350 other species — have been discovered over the past decade in the Himalayas, making it one of the world's most biologically rich regions, an environmental group said Monday.
But researchers warn that the effects of climate change, as well as development, threaten the diverse habitat that supports these species.
"The group found that almost three-quarters of the discoveries between 1998 and 2008 were plants, including 21 new orchid species. But it also listed 16 amphibians, 16 reptiles, 14 fish, two birds, two mammals and at least 60 new invertebrates. Most of the discoveries have already been reported in peer-reviewed, scientific journals.
"There will be close to 3,000-5,000 species that will be discovered if a systematic study is done over the next five years," said Bittu Sahgal, editor of Sanctuary Asia.
WOW!!
353 New Species Discovered in the Himalayas - FOXNews.com
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
The Persistent Porter
by INNOCE CHAPAMBA
A few years ago my family was returning home from Malawi to Zambia. At the border we had to wait several hours for the bus that would take us home. When the bus arrived, we stowed our luggage and found a seat. But just as we were about to leave, a porter told our family to get off the bus and wait for the next one. Mother argued, for the next bus wouldn't leave until the next day. But the porter politely but firmly insisted. Reluctantly we obeyed.
As he retrieved our luggage from the roof rack, my mother started crying. "Why us?" she said. "We have no place to sleep except out in the open." Other passengers tried to convince the porter to allow us back on the bus, but he politely refused. Finally we accepted the situation and sat down to wait until the next bus the following morning.
During the night the loudspeaker at the bus terminal crackled, awaking us. "The bus that left for the capital city yesterday afternoon was involved in a fiery crash. Everyone aboard that bus is dead."
Mother sat up and started crying. "My dears," she said through her tears as she gathered us close to her. "We should have been on that bus. The porter who forced us off the bus saved our lives. God saved us."
We sat stunned, trying to comprehend that God had saved us from death. We were Christians but not Adventists at the time. We recalled that although the porter had insisted that we get off the bus, he was never rude. "Is it possible that he was an angel?" we whispered among ourselves. When we arrived home, Mother told Father what had happened, and we all rejoiced in God's salvation.
Later I met some Adventist students who impressed me with their diligence and commitment to God. When told to help clean the campus on Sabbath, these students refused but politely offered to do their share of work on Sunday. One day I asked one of them about his faith, and he explained that Saturday is God's true Sabbath, the day God set aside for us to spend with Him. When I learned this, I wondered, Could they be right about the Sabbath?
I visited the Adventist church and eventually was baptized. I shared my faith with my family, and they, too, became Adventists.
I don't know why God sometimes intervenes and other times He doesn't. I'm sure many of us have been protected from harm without realizing it. I was blessed to have seen God's hand in a marvelous way.
Your mission offerings help spread God's love from person to person. Soon the whole world will know, and Jesus can come. Thank you for hastening that day.
Source
A few years ago my family was returning home from Malawi to Zambia. At the border we had to wait several hours for the bus that would take us home. When the bus arrived, we stowed our luggage and found a seat. But just as we were about to leave, a porter told our family to get off the bus and wait for the next one. Mother argued, for the next bus wouldn't leave until the next day. But the porter politely but firmly insisted. Reluctantly we obeyed.
As he retrieved our luggage from the roof rack, my mother started crying. "Why us?" she said. "We have no place to sleep except out in the open." Other passengers tried to convince the porter to allow us back on the bus, but he politely refused. Finally we accepted the situation and sat down to wait until the next bus the following morning.
During the night the loudspeaker at the bus terminal crackled, awaking us. "The bus that left for the capital city yesterday afternoon was involved in a fiery crash. Everyone aboard that bus is dead."
Mother sat up and started crying. "My dears," she said through her tears as she gathered us close to her. "We should have been on that bus. The porter who forced us off the bus saved our lives. God saved us."
We sat stunned, trying to comprehend that God had saved us from death. We were Christians but not Adventists at the time. We recalled that although the porter had insisted that we get off the bus, he was never rude. "Is it possible that he was an angel?" we whispered among ourselves. When we arrived home, Mother told Father what had happened, and we all rejoiced in God's salvation.
Later I met some Adventist students who impressed me with their diligence and commitment to God. When told to help clean the campus on Sabbath, these students refused but politely offered to do their share of work on Sunday. One day I asked one of them about his faith, and he explained that Saturday is God's true Sabbath, the day God set aside for us to spend with Him. When I learned this, I wondered, Could they be right about the Sabbath?
I visited the Adventist church and eventually was baptized. I shared my faith with my family, and they, too, became Adventists.
I don't know why God sometimes intervenes and other times He doesn't. I'm sure many of us have been protected from harm without realizing it. I was blessed to have seen God's hand in a marvelous way.
Your mission offerings help spread God's love from person to person. Soon the whole world will know, and Jesus can come. Thank you for hastening that day.
Source
Friday, August 28, 2009
A Good Friday Laugh
Here are some funny pics of Miss Ava Marie. She is our Weimaraner puppy. She just turned 5 months old about a week ago. She has TONS of personality and is literally a little clown! Her face is so expressive I can sometimes tell what she is thinking! Example: George and I were sitting on the couch and she was playing with her toys. She then decided to hit George in the leg with one of her tug toys, and I was dying laughing... She looked at me with this face that said "I think I'll hit the both of you"....and before I could move WHAPP! (this is a pretty hard plastic toy with rope tassels on the end of it) hahahahaha She is silly!!! Well Enjoy! --Ava and her "weapon"
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
HIS Product=Changed Lives :)
My world was consumed by drugs and violence, until God used the gift of woodworking to shape me into a different person. By Carlos Antiono Velasquez
I grew up on a family farm in the Andean mountains where we raised cattle and grew coffee and bananas. I loved the smell of cooking "panela" when we boiled the sugar cane to make brown sugar. But at age 12, my paradise shattered. The heavy lid of a wooden grain bin fell and struck my mother's head. Within days she died, and so did my world. I sought refuge in my father, but he sought refuge in the bottle. Despite my young age, he introduced me to alcohol. Although I didn't like it, when the men in the bar laughed at my reaction, I decided to be a "man." That day I took my first step down the road of addiction and wrong companions.
A bottomless void
When Pablo Escobar, a powerful drug lord, recruited my uncle to process cocaine, my whole family entered the drug business. Before long I'd earned a reputation at the laboratory for processing pure white cocaine.I had money, alcohol, women-but nothing filled the void inside me.Distorted values poisoned all areas of my life. Though I was a gifted craftsman at woodworking, I poured my energy into the drug business. I married a wonderful woman named Aleida, but instead of a romantic getaway,we spent our honeymoon at the laboratory.Our marriage was often in turmoil. One day after our second child was born, Aleida and I got into a bitter argument. She stormed off with the baby and, angry and hurt, I partied at the lab, showing off my latest weapon. To my horror the gun accidentally fired, and my 2-year-old son, Giovany, crumpled to the ground. The bullet had pierced his tiny body close to his spine. As we raced down mountain roads to the village clinic, several times I considered swerving the jeep over the precipice. Why live? I asked myself. Then Giovany groaned and I thought, Perhaps there is hope. I tried to recite the Lord's Prayer and the Rosary-then just screamed, "God, save my son!"When the young medic in the village cut into my little boy's body, I put my hand on my revolver, determined that if my son died, the doctor would die. But God used that doctor to save Giovany's life-and give me my first glimpse of His glory. The doctor didn't give Giovany much chance of walking again. Yet three days later he walked and was eventually released from the hospital. Despite my joy, I turned my back on this second miracle. After all, the mafia needed me to move a shipment of cocaine. But God didn't give up on me. Drug agents captured me, and I was sent to a prison in Urrao. Some of the inmates and I planned an escape, but the day we'd intended to flee, a massive earthquake destroyed the prison. Along with the other inmates I was shipped to Bellavista-a maximum security prison in Medellin. Having heard of the hellish conditions, I was terrified. As I walked through the patio (the Columbian term for prison block), I never expected to find a group of six prisoners singing. I drew near, and they opened their circle to me. One said, "Jesus loves you, Carlos." Those words penetrated deep, and I found myself returning to the group. I later discovered that Jeannine Brabon, an American missionary, had planted a powerful ministry in this dangerous prison a few years earlier in 1989. When I arrived at Bellavista there was a thriving community of Christian inmates. In time I opened my heart to receive Jesus as my Lord and Savior. His love filled that void inside me, and I felt happier than I ever had before. On her visit two months later, I eagerly told Aleida how God had changed me. But my wife only shook her head. "Carlos, you cannot play with God. I know all too well your evil lifestyle. Don't be a hypocrite!" That night as I wept in my tiny bunk, God spoke to my heart. "Carlos, words won't convince Aleida. Living the life will draw her to Me."
A work of beauty
That same night I dreamed I found an ugly block of wood and carved a beautiful clock with an eagle perched on top. To my surprise, when I awakened the next morning I found a block of wood. Determined to recreate the clock from my dream, I bought a small, black-market chisel-the blademade from the in step of a shoe and the handle from melted plastic cups-and began my masterpiece. When I finished, I was thrilled someone wanted to buy it. On Mother's Day I intended to surprise Aleida, who was expecting our third child, with $20 from the project. But before I could make the sale, the chief ruler-the toughest inmate in the patio-came and took my clock. Heart broken, I had nothing to give Aleida but my discouragement. Jose Giraldo, another inmate, encouraged me, "God will provide." So I carved a second clock, only to have the ruler's second-in-command steal this one. I cried. Why was God letting this happen? Again, Jose urged me not to give up. I made a third clock and sold it. But before I could give it to the buyer, it was stolen by the lowest criminal inside. "I've had it!" I cried to Jose, throwing my Bible to the ground."The Christian life isn't for me. I turn my cheek only to be slapped again and again, and my wife is in great need.""Let's pray," Jose suggested, but I angrily shook my head. "You pray. I can't." His prayer soothed my anger. Afterward he suggested, "We should report this theft.""No, Jose." I answered, knowing the thief would be tortured. "I'm going to trust the Lord and allow Him to provide, even though I don't understand why life has been so difficult now that I'm a Christian."That night God spoke again: "Carlos, do you re-member the ugly block of wood? Through blows from the mallet and chisel, you formed a work of beauty.These trials are blows to chip away your bitterness and hatred, to make you into My image."From that day on, I studied the Bible. Although I continued to face serious trials, even death, I prayed God would not take me out of prison unless His presence would go with me. Eventually, I served my sentence and was released.
Today I work with other young men who come out of prison, encouraging them to start a new life in Christ. I understand all too well the struggles and challenges they face.It wasn't easy to start over with a family to support. But as I look back, I can testify of God's great faithfulness. My wife and my sons now each know the Lord Jesus as their personal Savior. The most important moment in our home is our family worship time together. We are growing in Jesus day by day, and love Him with all our hearts. He is our reason for living!
Adapted from Good News magazine (Nov./Dec. 2006). Carlos Antiono Velasquez and his family live in Medellin, Colombia. A graduate of the Medellin Bible Institute and now a pastor, Carlos has been on staff with Prison Fellowship Antioqua, a regional branch of Prison Fellowship Colombia, since 1999. Copyright C 2007 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian magazine.
I grew up on a family farm in the Andean mountains where we raised cattle and grew coffee and bananas. I loved the smell of cooking "panela" when we boiled the sugar cane to make brown sugar. But at age 12, my paradise shattered. The heavy lid of a wooden grain bin fell and struck my mother's head. Within days she died, and so did my world. I sought refuge in my father, but he sought refuge in the bottle. Despite my young age, he introduced me to alcohol. Although I didn't like it, when the men in the bar laughed at my reaction, I decided to be a "man." That day I took my first step down the road of addiction and wrong companions.
A bottomless void
When Pablo Escobar, a powerful drug lord, recruited my uncle to process cocaine, my whole family entered the drug business. Before long I'd earned a reputation at the laboratory for processing pure white cocaine.I had money, alcohol, women-but nothing filled the void inside me.Distorted values poisoned all areas of my life. Though I was a gifted craftsman at woodworking, I poured my energy into the drug business. I married a wonderful woman named Aleida, but instead of a romantic getaway,we spent our honeymoon at the laboratory.Our marriage was often in turmoil. One day after our second child was born, Aleida and I got into a bitter argument. She stormed off with the baby and, angry and hurt, I partied at the lab, showing off my latest weapon. To my horror the gun accidentally fired, and my 2-year-old son, Giovany, crumpled to the ground. The bullet had pierced his tiny body close to his spine. As we raced down mountain roads to the village clinic, several times I considered swerving the jeep over the precipice. Why live? I asked myself. Then Giovany groaned and I thought, Perhaps there is hope. I tried to recite the Lord's Prayer and the Rosary-then just screamed, "God, save my son!"When the young medic in the village cut into my little boy's body, I put my hand on my revolver, determined that if my son died, the doctor would die. But God used that doctor to save Giovany's life-and give me my first glimpse of His glory. The doctor didn't give Giovany much chance of walking again. Yet three days later he walked and was eventually released from the hospital. Despite my joy, I turned my back on this second miracle. After all, the mafia needed me to move a shipment of cocaine. But God didn't give up on me. Drug agents captured me, and I was sent to a prison in Urrao. Some of the inmates and I planned an escape, but the day we'd intended to flee, a massive earthquake destroyed the prison. Along with the other inmates I was shipped to Bellavista-a maximum security prison in Medellin. Having heard of the hellish conditions, I was terrified. As I walked through the patio (the Columbian term for prison block), I never expected to find a group of six prisoners singing. I drew near, and they opened their circle to me. One said, "Jesus loves you, Carlos." Those words penetrated deep, and I found myself returning to the group. I later discovered that Jeannine Brabon, an American missionary, had planted a powerful ministry in this dangerous prison a few years earlier in 1989. When I arrived at Bellavista there was a thriving community of Christian inmates. In time I opened my heart to receive Jesus as my Lord and Savior. His love filled that void inside me, and I felt happier than I ever had before. On her visit two months later, I eagerly told Aleida how God had changed me. But my wife only shook her head. "Carlos, you cannot play with God. I know all too well your evil lifestyle. Don't be a hypocrite!" That night as I wept in my tiny bunk, God spoke to my heart. "Carlos, words won't convince Aleida. Living the life will draw her to Me."
A work of beauty
That same night I dreamed I found an ugly block of wood and carved a beautiful clock with an eagle perched on top. To my surprise, when I awakened the next morning I found a block of wood. Determined to recreate the clock from my dream, I bought a small, black-market chisel-the blademade from the in step of a shoe and the handle from melted plastic cups-and began my masterpiece. When I finished, I was thrilled someone wanted to buy it. On Mother's Day I intended to surprise Aleida, who was expecting our third child, with $20 from the project. But before I could make the sale, the chief ruler-the toughest inmate in the patio-came and took my clock. Heart broken, I had nothing to give Aleida but my discouragement. Jose Giraldo, another inmate, encouraged me, "God will provide." So I carved a second clock, only to have the ruler's second-in-command steal this one. I cried. Why was God letting this happen? Again, Jose urged me not to give up. I made a third clock and sold it. But before I could give it to the buyer, it was stolen by the lowest criminal inside. "I've had it!" I cried to Jose, throwing my Bible to the ground."The Christian life isn't for me. I turn my cheek only to be slapped again and again, and my wife is in great need.""Let's pray," Jose suggested, but I angrily shook my head. "You pray. I can't." His prayer soothed my anger. Afterward he suggested, "We should report this theft.""No, Jose." I answered, knowing the thief would be tortured. "I'm going to trust the Lord and allow Him to provide, even though I don't understand why life has been so difficult now that I'm a Christian."That night God spoke again: "Carlos, do you re-member the ugly block of wood? Through blows from the mallet and chisel, you formed a work of beauty.These trials are blows to chip away your bitterness and hatred, to make you into My image."From that day on, I studied the Bible. Although I continued to face serious trials, even death, I prayed God would not take me out of prison unless His presence would go with me. Eventually, I served my sentence and was released.
Today I work with other young men who come out of prison, encouraging them to start a new life in Christ. I understand all too well the struggles and challenges they face.It wasn't easy to start over with a family to support. But as I look back, I can testify of God's great faithfulness. My wife and my sons now each know the Lord Jesus as their personal Savior. The most important moment in our home is our family worship time together. We are growing in Jesus day by day, and love Him with all our hearts. He is our reason for living!
Adapted from Good News magazine (Nov./Dec. 2006). Carlos Antiono Velasquez and his family live in Medellin, Colombia. A graduate of the Medellin Bible Institute and now a pastor, Carlos has been on staff with Prison Fellowship Antioqua, a regional branch of Prison Fellowship Colombia, since 1999. Copyright C 2007 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian magazine.
Monday, August 24, 2009
HERSHEY'S "PERFECTLY CHOCOLATE" Cake
Yesterday I made this cake, and it was literally delicious!!! So moist and not too sweet. The icing is not my fav so I am still on the look out for the perfect icing but in the mean time... this is GOOD :) I used two 8-inch pans and it came out PERFECT :)
Ingredients:
2 cups sugar
1-3/4 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup HERSHEY'S Cocoa
1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1-1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
1 cup milk
1/2 cup vegetable oil
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup boiling water
"PERFECTLY CHOCOLATE" CHOCOLATE FROSTING(recipe follows)
Directions:
1. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease and flour two 9-inch round baking pans.
2. Stir together sugar, flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda and salt in large bowl. Add eggs, milk, oil and vanilla; beat on medium speed of mixer 2 minutes. Stir in boiling water (batter will be thin). Pour batter into prepared pans.
3. Bake 30 to 35 minutes or until wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool 10 minutes; remove from pans to wire racks. Cool completely. Frost with "PERFECTLY CHOCOLATE" FROSTING
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter or margarine
2/3 cup HERSHEY'S Cocoa
3 cups powdered sugar
1/3 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Melt butter. Stir in cocoa.
Alternately add powdered sugar and milk, beating to spreading consistency.
Add small amount additional milk, if needed. Stir in vanilla. About 2 cups frosting.
Ingredients:
2 cups sugar
1-3/4 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup HERSHEY'S Cocoa
1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1-1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
1 cup milk
1/2 cup vegetable oil
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup boiling water
"PERFECTLY CHOCOLATE" CHOCOLATE FROSTING(recipe follows)
Directions:
1. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease and flour two 9-inch round baking pans.
2. Stir together sugar, flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda and salt in large bowl. Add eggs, milk, oil and vanilla; beat on medium speed of mixer 2 minutes. Stir in boiling water (batter will be thin). Pour batter into prepared pans.
3. Bake 30 to 35 minutes or until wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool 10 minutes; remove from pans to wire racks. Cool completely. Frost with "PERFECTLY CHOCOLATE" FROSTING
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter or margarine
2/3 cup HERSHEY'S Cocoa
3 cups powdered sugar
1/3 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Melt butter. Stir in cocoa.
Alternately add powdered sugar and milk, beating to spreading consistency.
Add small amount additional milk, if needed. Stir in vanilla. About 2 cups frosting.
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