One of my favorite people in the world sent this to me.  He is my local “Avraham Gileadi” and is trying to learn Hebrew.  He is from the tribe of Judah (I told him so years ago and he found out recently that his birth mom who put him up for adoption is indeed Jewish).  He has been moved upon because he will be sent to Jerusalem as part of the 144K.  He is one of many I have searched out and found.  I have been in contact with many who will have that role – but they do not know it yet.

Here is what he sent – and yes, I had a drug problem as a kid.  I thank my parents for it:

  THE PARENTS WHO DRUGGED US!!!
  

   At my 50th high school reunion a friend asked me, ‘Why

    didn’t we have a drug problem when we were growing up?’

   I replied that I had a drug problem when I was young: I was

    drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for
    weddings and funerals. I was drug to family reunions and
    community socials no matter the weather.
  

   I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults. I

    was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents,
    told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak
    with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the pastor, or if
    I didn’t put forth my best effort in everything that was
    asked of me.
  

   I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out

    with soap if I uttered a profanity. I was drug out to pull
    weeds in mom’s garden and flower beds. I was drug to the
    homes of neighbors to help mow the yard, repair the
    clothesline, and if my mother had ever known that I took a
    single dime as a tip for this kindness, my dad would have
    drug me back to the woodshed.

    Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my

    behavior in everything I do, say, or think. They are
    stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin, and if today’s
    children had this kind of drug problem ,this world  would be a
    better place.
  

   God bless the parents who drugged us, and for those that

    didn’t, I’m really sorry…

from THE WOOD ZONE http://ift.tt/1j5V8GX

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One of my favorite people in the world sent this to me.  He is my local “Avraham Gileadi” and is trying to learn Hebrew.  He is from the tribe of Judah (I told him so years ago and he found out recently that his birth mom who put him up for adoption is indeed Jewish).  He has been moved upon because he will be sent to Jerusalem as part of the 144K.  He is one of many I have searched out and found.  I have been in contact with many who will have that role – but they do not know it yet.

Here is what he sent – and yes, I had a drug problem as a kid.  I thank my parents for it:

  THE PARENTS WHO DRUGGED US!!!
  

   At my 50th high school reunion a friend asked me, ‘Why

    didn’t we have a drug problem when we were growing up?’

   I replied that I had a drug problem when I was young: I was

    drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for
    weddings and funerals. I was drug to family reunions and
    community socials no matter the weather.
  

   I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults. I

    was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents,
    told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak
    with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the pastor, or if
    I didn’t put forth my best effort in everything that was
    asked of me.
  

   I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out

    with soap if I uttered a profanity. I was drug out to pull
    weeds in mom’s garden and flower beds. I was drug to the
    homes of neighbors to help mow the yard, repair the
    clothesline, and if my mother had ever known that I took a
    single dime as a tip for this kindness, my dad would have
    drug me back to the woodshed.

    Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my

    behavior in everything I do, say, or think. They are
    stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin, and if today’s
    children had this kind of drug problem ,this world  would be a
    better place.
  

   God bless the parents who drugged us, and for those that

    didn’t, I’m really sorry…

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