But did I re­ally just blow my cover?

Record Observer - - Religion -

This month I cel­e­brate an­other birth­day. At my age, I can­not re­mem­ber ex­actly which one but that does not re­ally mat­ter. The num­ber of the birth­day, in my point of view, does not in­flu­ence the cel­e­bra­tion of the birth­day.

Life has been rather good to me in many re­spects. The Gra­cious Mistress of the Par­son­age and I are a won­der­ful team and have been for so many years; I’m not al­lowed to say how many.

As a team, she can fix any­thing and I can break any­thing. That cer­tainly goes hand-in-hand with life. No mat­ter what I can break, she can fix. This has made life rather good.

Through­out life, I have gone un­der the ruse that when it comes to fix­ing things I am all thumbs and no fin­gers. I can­not seem to fix any­thing. Of course, if it can be fixed with a ham­mer I might try. When any­thing goes wrong in our house, I of­fer to fix it and my wife steps in most gal­lantly and re­tires me to my easy chair.

When I try to fix some­thing it usu­ally turns out worse than when I started.

I am not sure if I have cre­ated this ruse or if I re­ally am “all thumbs.”

Re­gard­less of the sit­u­a­tion, as long as she can fix it, I’m com­fort­able in break­ing it.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t break things on pur­pose. At least, I do not think I do. At my age, what’s think­ing got to do with any­thing? It just hap­pens that I have the knack of break­ing things.

No­body has ever cre­ated any­thing that I can­not in some way break.

So, life has been won­der­ful and I hope it con­tin­ues to be won­der­ful and it will be as long as both of us stay to our role in the mar­riage. When I try to take over her spot or she tries to take over my spot, there is trou­ble a’ stir­ring.

Ev­ery­thing was go­ing won­der­fully un­til some­thing hap­pened this past week.

One thing my wife en­joys is mow­ing the lawn. I am not al­lowed to ride the lawn­mower and I am not quite sure why at this point. How­ever, if it makes her happy, it makes me happy. She spends many happy hours mow­ing the grass.

It is not so much that I don’t like to mow, but she likes to mow much bet­ter than I do and of course, she does a much bet­ter job at it. She knows how to keep that lawn­mower run­ning and if the en­gine sounds a lit­tle off key, she knows ex­actly what’s wrong and how to fix it and she does.

My re­spon­si­bil­ity is to give her a hand when­ever I can. When she passes the front porch, I stand up and ap­plaud as she goes by. It’s the least I can do.

Then this past week brought in a new pic­ture. She was mow­ing the grass when, un­be­knownst to her, she ran over a long dog chain the neigh­bor had some­how got into our lawn. By the time she re­al­ized what had hap­pened, the chain had twisted all over the blades of that mower.

She pulled the mower up to the house, turned it off and be­gan re­pair­ing it. The wire was all twisted very tightly around one of the blades un­der the mower. She pulled, yanked and twisted, but noth­ing hap­pened.

I walked up to her and said, “Is there any­thing I can do to help?”

With­out even look­ing at me she said, “No, I got ev­ery­thing un­der con­trol.”

What I have learned through­out life is never con­tra­dict your wife. That’s the recipe for a cooked goose.

I let her go and about a half-hour later, I no­ticed the lawn­mower was not run­ning. I went around to see what was hap­pen­ing and found her still try­ing to un­twist that wire from the mower blades.

I could see she was rather frus­trated and had got­ten nowhere with un­rav­el­ing that wire.

“Why don’t you let me look at it?” I asked as calmly as pos­si­ble.

“You can look at it,” she said kind of ex­as­per­ated, “but I don’t think there’s any­thing you can do.”

I try to help when­ever I can and I know that my “help” is rather lim­ited com­pared to hers. I thought I owed it to her to look at it and ex­claim, “Wow, that sure is twisted.”

I looked at it for a while, be­gan jug­gling with some of the wires and dis­cov­ered one wire that seemed to be a lit­tle looser than any of the other wires. I tugged and pulled at it and within about five min­utes, I had all of the wire un­rav­eled from the mower blade.

“There,” I said as calmly as pos­si­ble. “I think I got it all fixed for you.”

She looked at me rather quizzi­cally; she got down to look at the blade and ex­claimed, “My good­ness. You re­ally did fix it. This must be a first.”

When she said that a light went off in­side my dark­ened mind and I thought to my­self, “This bet­ter not be the be­gin­ning of any­thing!”

A verse of Scrip­ture started scam­per­ing through my mind. “What­so­ever thy hand find­eth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor de­vice, nor knowl­edge, nor wis­dom, in the grave, whither thou goest” (Ec­cle­si­astes 9:10).

From now on, I’m go­ing to try to keep my hands to my­self.

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 e-mail jamess­ny­der2@att.net. The church web site is www. whatafel­low­ship.com.

AANAPOLIS — Pasadena Theatre Com­pany and Unity by the Bay are stag­ing a fundraiser for Unity by the Bay. Pasadena Theatre Com­pany’s pro­duc­tion of “God­spell” is com­ing to Anne Arun­del Com­mu­nity Col­lege.

Pick ei­ther per­for­mance, July 22 at 8 p.m. or the mati­nee July 23 at 3 p.m., in AACC Hu­man­i­ties Recital Hall. UBB will re­ceive $10 for each adult ticket sold and $5 for each child’s ticket.

Tick­ets are $20 for adults or $15 for chil­dren un­der 12 and are avail­able at the church of­fice. Re­serve tick­ets by call­ing the church, 410-544-7990, or email­ing ad­min@uni­ty­bythe­bay. com.

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