You all will certainly think me beyond help when I tell you my little story about the happenings early this morning. Yes, there are some days when even I consider myself a bit eccentric. But please remember, I’m the one that has to live with myself.
For whatever reason I decided to attend a church service in the area and when I looked at my watch, I found I’d have just enough time to drive there before their bells started ringing. I thought I’d be a little inconspicuous by finding a pew in the back or side aisle so to go unnoticed by the brethren. The moment I walked into the structure I had an “icky” feeling of really not belonging and/or welcome. I decided to sit in a rear pew that was singularly occupied by an older lady who was comfortably seated next to the aisle. I stood there waiting for her to move over so I could sit down, and believe it not, she just sat there looking at me. After being overwhelmingly embarrassed and a bit hurt, I decided it was my cue to make a quick exit and head farther away from the City.
While walking out I couldn’t help but think how much some people who are members of any given churches, believe they own those structures and the pews they’re occupying. If my memory serves me correctly, many years ago there were churches containing pews that had small brass numbered plates on the aisle sides of the pews. The few times I saw them, I figured they were meant for certain families. After thinking about it, I began wondering if there was a progressive movement each year or two with their numeric assignments based on the amount of money that family gave along with the number of years they were members. So as you were slowly moving closer to the front, the more highly regarded you were in that particular religious community.
Of course there’s a flip side to this concept. I’m sure you all have heard what’s been said about some of the naughty business people over the years. “They sit in those front pews and sing the loudest, but when back outside they return to their devilish ways.” Of course I can’t help but repeat what a peppery old lady used to say, “They don’t drink and they don’t smoke, but if you throw their pants to the ceiling they’d stick there!” Wow! When I heard that the first time out of her mouth I had a real knee-jerk reaction–especially when hearing it out of the mouth of such a highly regarded little old lady. One can’t help but be forgiving with such dear ones. After having endured so many hard years, I guess it’s their right to say whatever’s on their minds.
My public open house today was a great success. There were people there nearly the entire. time. I was exceptionally pleased to find two people arrive whom I hadn’t seen in many years. After they left, I was reminded again how with such select people, I can pick up where we left off after so many years. Their appearance really made my day.
The above photo is of a section of concrete that’s being exposed after being hidden by layers of dirt and rock. At first look, it reminded me of an archeological dig. I would guess that section of it’s original structure hasn’t seen the light of day for well over 40 years, and smarty pants me remembers the business that used to be there. Just seeing that small section created pleasant flash-backs in time. After walking away, I continued to think, “Why can’t everything be simple like it was way back then?”