It’s Saturday morning, and I have a thousand things to do, but I am sitting without a book waiting to see a Physician’s Assistant who is at least 45 minutes behind.
I wonder how my congregation would like hearing that church will start late tomorrow because my schedule was thrown off?
- I could be at the Fall Ball game (only a tenth of a mile down the road, but it started at 10, and this appointment was for 10:30, and now it’s 11:07). May The Boy forgive me.
- I could be baking for the Stewardship reception tomorrow at my spouse’s church. I am already dressed for a funeral there this afternoon.
- I could be writing an email to the two charming men whose wedding I will officiate at a museum on Tuesday morning, confirming the final decisions we made yesterday.
- I could be pulling together a service for later that same day, when I will accompany a dear widow of 94 to the interment of her late husband at a far-off cemetery.
(11:24, my blood pressure is recorded. Progress!)
In five days, between us, there are two funerals, two interments, two weddings, Sunday worship in two churches, various responsibilities unnamed here but well known to You, and we need clean clothes and meals and sleep and downtime to be a family.
- We thank You for the Presbyterian pancake breakfast.
- We thank You for the Eagle Scout who cuts the grass and cleans up the leaves at the manse.
- We thank You for health insurance and a doctor with Saturday hours.
- We thank You for Netflix and Chinese carry-out.
- We thank You for the lives of those we give back to You in body and spirit and ask Your blessings on the ones who will join in marriage.
- We thank You for all the wonderful places we could be and the places where we are, the blessed vitality of a life spent serving You, and the deep privilege of being present for others.
- We -
Wait, here comes the P.A. (11:38.)
Thanks for listening, O Great Physician. I feel better. Amen.