Life does have its compensations – oc­ca­sion­ally

Record Observer - - RELIGION -

At times, it seems as if there is ab­so­lutely no jus­tice in this world, and then some­thing won­der­ful hap­pens making up for al­most ev­ery­thing. This past week I was for­tu­nate enough to ex­pe­ri­ence one of those rare jew­els of life.

I must say not all weeks are like this. My weeks usu­ally range from bad to worse to when will this ever stop?

A nor­mal week for me is when I take two steps for­ward and get run over by a car. Or, just when I think I’m caught up, I discover I’ve been work­ing on last week’s to-do list.

Not that I’m com­plain­ing be­cause com­plain­ing never gets any­where in life. At least, no place I want to go.

A man who com­plains aloud is a man who is not mar­ried. Wives have a way of turn­ing their hus­band’s com­plain­ing into “Well, its your own fault.” It’s amaz­ing how this one phrase can cover a mul­ti­tude of sins.

So, I’m not com­plain­ing, I’m just mus­ing on my life and cel­e­brat­ing a great event this week.

I got home on Tues­day and the Gra­cious Mis­tress of the Par­son­age was not there. I made my­self a cup of cof­fee and got com­fort­able in my easy chair to rest from the labors of the day.

A good cup of Joe goes a long way to smooth the rough edges of any day. No sooner was I set­tled than the tele­phone rang. It was my wife.

“Are you home yet?” she said in a very meek and quiet voice. From the tone of her voice, I knew some­thing wasn’t ex­actly right.

For a mo­ment, I was tempted to an­swer her ques­tion in the neg­a­tive. But then I do value my life. I knew the ques­tion was rhetor­i­cal and was not the rea­son for her call­ing. Some­thing was up.

“Could you come over to the church right now?” she asked.

I had just set­tled in my easy chair and was a lit­tle re­luc­tant to ex­tri­cate my­self from my com­fort zone. I could, but I won­dered why she wanted me to come over.

It wasn’t my birthday so I knew it was not a sur­prise party. It wasn’t our an­niver­sary. And as far as I knew I was not in any trou­ble, which in it­self does not rule out my be­ing in trou­ble. “Why,” I queried. “I just need you to come over here right now, pleeease.”

When my wife says “pleeease,” I know there’s a very good rea­son for it. Namely, she is in trou­ble and needs my as­sis­tance. Granted, this is a rare oc­cur­rence.

“Is there some­thing wrong? Are you all right?” I asked.

“Well,” she hes­i­tated, “I think I locked my keys in the car.”

Life does not get any bet­ter than this.

Of­ten this sit­u­a­tion has been re­versed. I can­not tell how many times when I called home the first thing she says to me is, “Did you run out of gas?” Or, “Did you lock your­self out of your car?”

It’s not so much what she says as how sar­cas­ti­cally she says it.

Out of ev­ery 100 calls I make home I would say 95 of them fit into ei­ther one of those cat­e­gories very nicely. It has come to the point where I dread call­ing home. Then she usu­ally con­cludes the tele­phone con­ver­sa­tion with, “I can’t see how any­body can run out of gas or lock their keys in the car as of­ten as you do.”

Now the sock was on the other foot. My Beloved, who chides me so of­ten about los­ing my keys or lock­ing my keys in the car, has now done the same thing her­self. Isn’t life great?

“Let me see if I un­der­stand this,” I said as sar­cas­ti­cally as I pos­si­bly could with­out burst­ing into hys­ter­i­cal laugh­ter, “you locked your keys in the car?”

A hushed “yes,” drifted through the phone line.

“Ex­cuse me,” I said rather haugh­tily, “I didn’t quite hear you.”

The re­spon­sive “yes” pierced the tele­phone and al­most knocked me on my seat. “I locked my keys in the car … are you happy?” she snapped. I was. Whether it was my imag­i­na­tion or not, some­how I felt her eyes bore into my soul and I knew even though it was her mis­take, I was in trou­ble. This is just the way life is.

How­ever, such trou­ble is more de­li­cious than two scoops of raisins in ev­ery box.

It has been a long time since I have en­joyed an er­rand as much as I did go­ing over to the church and un­lock­ing my wife’s car door for her.

Be­ing the gen­tle­man I am, I didn’t say any­thing but I sure did smile a lot. She, be­ing the gra­cious lady she is, didn’t say any­thing but glared a lot. I en­joyed it all. That evening dur­ing sup­per, and af­ter sup­per, she was rather quiet. I was sport­ing a snick­er­ing smile all evening.

Fi­nally, she said, “All right, go ahead have your laugh.” And I did. As a Chris­tian, I have dis­cov­ered not ev­ery day is what you might call a good day. God has a mar­velous way of keep­ing tabs on all of this.

The verse that brings com­fort and en­cour­age­ment in this area is Ro­mans 8:28: “And we know that all things work to­gether for good to them that love God, to them who are the called ac­cord­ing to his pur­pose.”

Oc­ca­sion­ally, life gives you a mo­ment that com­pen­sates for ev­ery other mo­ment in your life.

Dr. James L. Sny­der is pas­tor of the Fam­ily of God Fel­low­ship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 34472. He lives with his wife in Sil­ver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or email jamess­ny­der2@att.net. The church web­site is www. whatafel­low­ship.com.

SUDLERSVILLE — Cal­varyAs­bury United Methodist Church, 103 N. Church St., will hold its spring church sup­per, 4 to 7 p.m., Fri­day, April 21. Carry-outs avail­able 3 to 6 p.m.

Menu in­cludes roast beef and gravy, pars­ley pota­toes, Har­vard beets, green beans, cole slaw, ap­ple­sauce, din­ner rolls and as­sorted desserts.

Adults and carry-outs, $10; chil­dren 5 to 12, $5. Chil­dren un­der 5 eatin for free. Pur­chas­ing tick­ets ahead of time is ad­vised. Ad­vance tick­ets avail­able at church of­fice or call 410-438-3816.

PONDTOWN — Mt. Pleas­ant United Methodist Church, Pondtown, will host the 48th an­nual Lewis Fam­ily and Friends Day, at 3:30 p.m. April 23 with guest Pas­tor Regina Bell, First Pil­grim Bap­tist Church from Cam­den, Del.

All are wel­come. For more in­for­ma­tion con­tact Ce­les­tine Heath, Ste­ward, 540-819-3321, or Rev. Wayne Thomp­son, 410928-5161.

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