Einstein's Riddle

There are 5 houses in different colors. In each house lives a person with a different nationality. The 5 owners drink a certain type of beverage, smoke a certain brand of cigar, and keep a certain pet. No owners have the same pet, smoke the same brand cigar or drink the same beverage.

The question is “Who owns the fish?”

Hints:
The Brit lives in Red House.

The Swede keeps Dogs as pets.

The Dane drinks Tea.

The Green House is on the left of the White House.

The Green House’s owner drinks Coffee.

The person who smokes Pall Mall rears Birds.

The owner of the Yellow House smokes Dunhill.

The man living in the Center House drinks Milk.

The Norwegian lives in the First House.

The man who smokes Blends lives next to the one who keeps Cats.

The man who keeps the Horse lives next to the man who smokes Dunhill.

The owner who smokes Bluemasters drinks Beer.

The German smokes Prince.

The Norwegian lives next to the Blue House.

The man who smokes Blends has a neighbor who drinks Water.

Einstein wrote this riddle last century. He said 98% of the world could not solve it. Good Luck.

Apologetics July 11th!

Hello everybody! Apologetics is tomorrow (July 11th). Just thought I'd let you all know.

Harry Demo

I found this in my writing folder. I wrote it a while back--thought it was interesting.

“You're a monster Harry!” She yelled. “Get the hell away from me.” She turned and ran from him. She was disgusted. How could he bring her here?
Harry Demo stood there and watched her run away. He didn't say anything. He knew what he had to do now. From his overcoat he pulled a gun. It was a chrome forty-five. He aimed as she slowed from her run.
She was too emotional to keep running. She finally slowed to a walk and began to cry. She sniffled and began to rethink her decision to leave him. She had loved him for a year and maybe she just wasn't ready to give him up just yet. She stopped and started to turn around.
Pop! He watched her fall to the ground. He truly was a monster. He had accepted this. He'd grown up fighting his future, but it was his grooming that made him give up. His father had brought him to every execution and to some silencing events. Frankie Demo was a hard man. He wasn't groomed, but found his way into a world of greed, deception, and betrayal. His first son he named Harry, after his own father. At first, he wanted to keep him away from the life that he lived. He was trapped deep within the game and knew he couldn't leave it himself, but thought that he could spare his son. He left him at home with his mother through his first seven years. If he'd really had his way, it would have stayed that way, but the end came for his sheltered family. Emily was whacked. She was a good mother. Her knowledge of her husband’s business was very limited, but she knew it was less than respectable. Frankie had been spending too much time at home. He fed into the dream of leaving the life he had made for himself and becoming only a husband and a father. His enemies soon found his secret life and zeroed in on his most vulnerable weakness.
Frankie took his son by his side, knowing that he'd better teach his son the ways of the game, or he'd be dead as well. He knew that because of his path he had condemned his son, but realized his son would be better off the more ruthless he was.
Frankie was right. Harry had grown up to be a cold-blooded killer and a heartless businessman. He climbed up to the top of the game. He was the most powerful man in New York, and the most sought after to be killed. He held wealth and respect, but he was forced to continuously protect himself.
He cleaned his gun as he walked from the doc and toward his car. Mike and Jeff stood and leaned against the car smoking their cigars.
“I heard two shots Harry,” said Mike. “Thing’s didn't go well?”
“Get in,” Harry told them.
The two men put out their cigar stubs and tossed them to the ground as Harry got into the back of the car.

Thursday Night's Study - Revised

Something that has affected me significantly:

This is not a specific event, but an action carried out day to day. I found, not surprisingly, that if I read the word as much as I could and constantly meditated on it that my entire life began to change.

Not only did it begin to change, but it continued to change.

I began to easily transition to Jesus, the Bible, and the things of God during conversations. I realized that we speak about what’s on our minds most (as long as it’s not shameful). If what you have to talk about is God, you’re a powerful instrument for him to use.

In one conversation I transitioned from water treatment techniques to the need for God in my life. It is the most exhilarating accomplishment when you do something as simple as talking to another person about his Creator.

I found that my studies gained depth. I learned with a greater understanding. I found it less difficult to hear God in my life.

BUT, It is easy to hear sermons over and over, to tell yourself that you know it all, and to become lax with your reading, your searching, and your walk. This is my struggle. I go back and forth.

Unfortunately, I found this great and awesome path and still choose to turn from it every once in awhile. It’s not a constant fire, but not because God skips out and isn’t faithful (1 Corinthians 1:9 God, who has called you into fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, is faithful.), but because of our own nature. I find other things and give them more focus than I give God.

I form idols out of everything else instead of looking to what is eternal and truly of benefit.

I lose my desire to read. I exchange my close walk with God for a distant one. I become deaf to his speaking. And I turn off the path. I don't lose my faith, but I do let it grow cool.

At that point, people talk to me about God and I’d speak in return with a shell of the excitement I could have had.

Naturally, my thoughts become more bitter than positive. I grow a little uncomfortable when my brother at my workplace asks me about my walk. I begin to see more negative in my job.

I try to spend time with friends to try to help my void. I attempt to smile when I don’t feel like it.

My joy and my definite sense of direction fail me. I couldn’t manufacture that by any means.

I truly believe that the void becomes even greater after you've filled it with God and let it drain down.

I look in many directions to solve my problems, but don’t stop to realize that my solution has been walking beside me the whole time. He was waiting for me to stop ignoring him so much.

I finally break free of my torments when I pick my Bible up again and don't read superficially as I had been, but instead give it my honest consideration and attention.

The interesting thing about the Word is that it won’t help you unless you give yourself over to it. At that point, the Word comes alive and speaks to your Spirit. It shines light into humanity's dark existence. It gives you your direction back. It is my hope.

Hoping without seeking is a waste of time.