John Wayne could tell his dog, go do this or go do that
and his dog would “get’er done”. TV. and
movie dogs can save busloads of children, stop the dam from breaking, pull
babies from the path of oncoming trains.
I’ve always wanted a dog like that.
But I can say, “Gracie go get my boots”, and Gracie looks
at me like I was speaking Farsi and lies down as if to say “Go get your own
boots”.
As I lace up my boots, I pause to see if there is something
else I need to do while I am down
here. It’s becoming such a chore to bend
down and get back up.
Walking stick in hand we head toward the “tabernacle”. The quietness and coolness of the early morning
woods is refreshing. The sun is peeping through the trees and the little altar invites me to come and pray. I kneel down to spend
time asking God to give me the sweetness, kindness and Christ-likeness for
today. While kneeling there in the
presence of God, 72 million mosquitoes decide to make my ragged old body the
meal of the day. Have you ever noticed
how difficult it is to be spiritual, pray fervently and love compassionately when
you are being eaten by insects?
I quickly finish my prayers and head back to the
house. I decide to pour myself a bowl of
cereal to contribute to a semi-healthy diet
and lifestyle I'm attempting to practice. I pour milk onto the hard, crunchy, gravel-like substance that is supposed to be cereal and looks nothing like the picture on the
box. One spoonful tells me that this
milk was probably placed in our refrigerator by the man who put it together,
somewhere around 20 years ago. The smell
was awful and the taste was…..well, you know, it’s probably happened to you.
Forget breakfast, I’ll just run by Jack’s and get a biscuit
and gravy.
I took an uneventful shower and begin getting dressed but
as I pushed my right foot into my sock, I realized that it didn’t stop. The
small hole in my sock, suddenly turned into a large hole. Large enough for my whole foot to negotiate. A small Volkswagen could pass through this
hole.
Ok, I’m on my way now.
Plenty of time to go by Jack’s, get my quick breakfast and make it to
work. But oh, wait…. Some sweet little
old lady has decided to drive in the same direction that I am going. The difference in my driving and her driving
is that I want to actually get to Jack’s before I die. She on the other hand is content to allow 6
of her closest friends to carry her there in a casket. They would most likely move faster than she
is driving in that massive Oldsmobile.
After what seems to be hours, I arrive at Jack’s. The line seems to wind around the building
and reach to the downtown area of
Clanton. But patiently, lovingly I stand
in line (I hate lines! I hate
waiting! I hate to stand like cows at a
gate, and sheep before their shearers
until my number is called.) But the
thought and smell of the Jack’s biscuit’s hold me steady.
It’s my turn. I
step up to the counter, flash my biggest Christian smile and begin to tell the
lady what I would like for breakfast.
“I’d like a single biscuit and gravy and……”
Dining?
Dining? I’m grabbing a biscuit
and gravy on a Styrofoam plate, eating it with a plastic fork and drinking my coffee out of a Styrofoam cup. That hardly fits with the term “dining”.
“Yes, I’m dining in”, I said politely.
I start again, “I’d like a single biscuit and…..”
“Do you want the senior discount”? She asked staring at me like she felt sorry
for this poor old man who couldn’t get his order out.
Can I just stop here and say that nothing, absolutely nothing
makes you feel older and more useless than after weeks of workouts and
walking/running, after months of eating salad and “healthy stuff” instead of
biscuits and gravy, as you stand there with your muscles aching and your bones and joints throbbing, someone asks you if you want the senior discount. What’s
the use!?
“That will be fine, thank you”. I said.
Again, I smile a righteous smile.
“Now what will you have sir”? She asked impatiently.
“I would have told you 10 minutes ago if you would just
hush lady and let me talk”. That’s what
I wanted to say…but I didn’t.
“A single biscuit and gravy please, with a small drink”. Whew, finally got that finished.
I receive my order and make my way to the line of
tables. I notice a table away from the crowd and make my way there. I just want to have a quiet, relaxing breakfast away from people. (I hate people.) I’ll just relax here, eat my meal in peace
and begin my day in a Christ-like manner, I thought, as I sat down……in a glob
of grape jelly.
I quickly rose up off the plastic, molded seat so as not
to get grape jelly on my clean cloths and in so doing, spilled my drink on the
table and in my lap.
All of those people that I didn’t want to be around were
now looking at me and laughing. The
cleaning lady gave me a look like I had just repossessed her home and slowly made her
way over to me to clean up my mess. I
swear the Dr. Pepper that I spilled could have ran down stream to the Mississippi delta before
this little lady could get across the room with the rag to soak up my drink, which was now not only on my lap, on the table and on the floor but was also
soaking into my biscuit and mixing with my gravy.
While she was cleaning up the drink that I had spilled
and I was trying to wipe the grape jelly off my pants I decided that I was no
longer hungry and just threw the rest of my “dining experience” into the
overstuffed and smelly waste basket and headed for work.
I arrived a bit later than usual, I wonder why, and found
that my usual parking space had been taken by someone working at the bank next
door. It must have looked much more
inviting than the 532 empty parking spaces on their property.
Walking up the stairs, because the elevator had a sign on
it that advised “out of order” and unlocking the door, turning on the lights
and air and making my way to my desk, I thought, “This is really starting out
as a crappy day”, but decided that I’d press on and be as kind and helpful as I
could with God’s help.
I pulled out my seat and sat down… and down….and down….coming
to a sudden stop on the floor behind my desk .
Who knew that those expensive government chairs could collapse in such a
fashion. You have heard, no doubt the
saying “It’s not the fall that hurts you, it’s the sudden stop at the end”. That is not entirely true. Because during the
fall, as I flailed my arms made funny old man noises and looked like, I’m sure,
a mouse falling off a cliff, I hit the side of the desk, knocked over the books
and papers and bumped my head. Then, and
only then did I come to the sudden stop part.
And they were right….it did hurt.
Paul, in his writings to the Romans, in chapter 5 verse 3
said, “rejoice in tribulations…”. I
don’t know if Paul ever had a day start the way mine has. I don’t know if there were Jack’s in Paul’s
day. I don’t know if the same people who work at the Jack’s here worked at the
Jack’s in Jerusalem or if the same manufacturers that constructed my chair made
his. I'm almost positive however, that the little lady driving that big Oldsmobile drove some sort of chariot back then. But I do know that if I do what
Paul advised us to do today that people will think I am a blubbering idiot. They will think this old guy has completely
lost his mind. Because if I rejoice in all the tribulation that I’ve had this morning
I’ll be rejoicing until I can’t get my breath. Someone
will have to call 911. I don’t think I can take too much more of this
rejoicing today. Maybe I should just go back home and tomorrow
I’ll just ask for grace and mercy.
Surely God will have compassion on and old man.
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