The other day I was on my way to Greenville. I was on the four lane (Hwy 189) and was in the left lane passing a few slower cars. There were probably five cars in line in the right lane, all running about 50 mph and I was running 60 mph (I know the speed limit's 55 but they've always given 9 mph leadway). As I was about to approach the middle car (3rd from the front and 3rd from the back), I noticed she turned on her signal and began to come to my lane. I imagine I was in the blind spot on her mirror. I slowed slightly and lightly "tapped" my horn to let her know I was beside her. As soon as I was satisfied she was back in her lane, I proceeded to pass her, still not exceeding the 60 mph. As I got by her, I looked in my mirror, she had stuck her hand out the window and "flipped me off" with her middle finger (which, incidentally, looks the same whether looking directly at it or in a mirror). I also noticed that she had a license plate on the front of her car that said "God is my Co-Pilot." After I had passed the line of cars, I pulled into the right hand lane myself and she decided she wanted to lead the pack so she passed the other two cars that had been in front of her and then proceeded to pass me. I noticed she had two small children in the back. As she went on around, I couldn't help but see the bumper sticker declaring "Christians aren't Perfect, just Forgiven," a "fish" on her trunk and the word "clergy" on her rear bumper.
Either she or her husband or someone who owned the car was a minister. I couldn't help but think it quite odd to "flip me off" so easily and in public. I wanted to "get mad," but couldn't help but laugh to myself.
This got me to thinking (I do that occasionally, especially when I'm alone in my car) about other times I've seen things like this happen.
I couldn't help but think of race car driver Dale Earnhardt Sr. and the day he died on the last lap of the 2001 Daytona 500. He was by far the most popular driver ever to participate in the sport. The last thing I remember him doing was "flipping off" one of the other drivers who "cut him off" while they were racing in line. Seconds later, he hit the wall and was killed instantly. I don't say this to be "judging" Mr. Earnhardt (I'm not in charge of that department), and I believe our God is merciful and forgiving, but I couldn't imagine how "awkward" he must have felt as he approached his maker and I wondered if God didn't ask for some sort of "explanation" of his actions. I'm confident he probably entered the kingdom of Heaven because the good he did in his life far outweighed the bad (as far as I know) but still, he had to feel uncomfortable.
Once, many years ago, I was in the Jaycees and we ran the Muhlenberg County Fair. We always reserved Wednesday nights for Gospel Music so we didn't feel as if we were "competing" with the local churches. Our show always started at 8 p.m. and that gave most church attendees in reasonable driving distance ample time to come. Several even loaded their buses and came directly after prayer service. We usually had at least one pretty big name group. I don't want to mention any names here but there was one group that was nationally known in Gospel Music circles and they had come for about three years in a row. The entertainment committee felt it was getting a little "stale," and decided to check into some other groups and in fact, decided to book "Hovey Lister and the Statesmen," who were second in popularity nationally to the "Oak Ridge Boys." Several weeks passed and finally the leader of the original group we used to have called me and I woefully had to tell him we had already hired another group. "Who'd you hire?" he asked. "Hovey Lister and the Statesmen Quartet," I told him. "You hired those long-haired sons of b------?," he asked, which totally floored me. Goes to show that we're all "human," I guess!
Heard a good story the other day and wanted to share it with you all. Seems a burglar was "casing out" a neighborhood one day and decided to break into a nice home. He wandered around back and seeing no cars in the garage or driveway, he decided it was empty and "ripe for the picking!" Carefully he managed to break into through a door leading directly into the kitchen. There he encountered a parrot in a cage. The parrot looked at him straight in the eye and said "Jesus is gonna get you!" The man thought it was neat to see a talking bird but went ahead with his business. He unfolded a cloth sack and began removing silverware from the drawers and some silver dishes from the china cabinet. Again, the parrot said "Jesus is gonna get you!" The burglar shook his head and headed for the living room where he began filling his sack with a dvd recorder, a Bose Stereo, and some valuable books from the bookcase. The parrot, who could still see him from the doorway, again said "Jesus is gonna get you!" By now this was beginning to get on the burglar's nerves but still he went about his business. He quietly wandered over to a shut door leading to the den. When he opened it, he was startled to see a Doberman that seemed to be five foot tall and with all his teeth exposed, drooling, to which the parrot said "Get Him Jesus!"
My mother used to get "annoyed" when she got her annual visit from the Jehovah's Witnesses. She always knew it was them because nobody else ever came to our "front" door. She'd be sitting in her favorite rocking chair trying to enjoy "As the World Turns," and the inevitable "knock" would come from the door. This would usually happen just as some climax to some storyline that had been building up for six weeks was about to unfold. This always put her in a glorious mood as she would get up to answer the door and I'm sure the people on the porch quickly realized they didn't have her full attention (or probably even 10% of it). She'd glance over the top of her glasses with a not-so-perky "Whattyda want?" They'd then "shift into drive" and proceed with their spill while trying to hand her a "Watchtower" (their informational magazine). She'd always interrupt them with "don't need any of that propoganda...go see Mrs. Morris next door, she's lookin' for a religion." They asked her if she had a few minutes to sit out and discuss a certain verse of scripture. "No," she said, "I'm about to find out who Veronica's illegimate baby belongs to....you guys picked a bad time to save my soul!" After about five minutes of this, the Jehovah's Witnesses would "trek" over to Mrs. Morris' house. Mrs. Morris was apparently kinder to them because they usually stayed there about an hour. I don't think she ever joined their church, however. I told Mom she'd have to explain this to God someday and she always told me "don't worry about it...I'll get it worked out in Confession this weekend."
Despite this shortcoming, I believe Mom made it OK.
TV Evangelists have always fascinated me. They always seem to have God-Given Powers that lowly "home town preachers" didn't inherit. Several of them can heal the sick, get people who have been in wheel-chairs to stand up and dance (they never walk...they dance!), restore hearing, etc. I never can figure out why any of our local ministers have not been able to duplicate this...at least on a regular basis.
One day I was going to Evansville and while driving down the parkway, surfing the radio, I hit upon a regional preacher who was talking so loud and fast he was having trouble breathing. The radio station was in Madisonville. This preacher was telling of a dream he had "in his sleep" (that's the only way I dream), whereby the Lord himself appeared at the foot of his bed. He told him he would be back on this earth very soon (this has been about 30 years ago) and for him to prepare his "flock." He then removed a white shirt from the corner bedpost and blessed it. "Share this with the multitudes of followers," he told the preacher. The preacher then went on to say "I awoke this morning and cut that shirt into several small strips...and I want you to have one. With each donation of $25.00 or more I will send you a strip of this white shirt, blessed by the Lord himself in my house and in my bedroom."
Unfortunately I didn't have access to a pencil or paper or I would have written down the address and purchased one for my Mom!
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