When I was a kid, my family lived within walking distance of the church building. Because of that, and because we had a big house, and I suppose because my parents were well respected and worked diligently for the congregation there, the preachers who came for meetings always seemed to stay with us. That meant I got to spend a lot of time with the fellows who came every day. Sure they'd go to other folks houses for dinner, but most of the day they stayed with us.

 

Due to that we got a lot of very personal contact with the preachers. And that also meant Randy had to stay on his very best "preacher behavior" all the time. You know what I mean: pinches under the table, meaningful looks, the occasional reminder whisper with promised poundings if I didn't straighten up. Sigh. Sometimes the preachers were stern, grumpy guys. Some though loved children and I think they more enjoyed spending time with us kids than they did with the old folks.

 

These latter ones would often tell us funny stories. I remember one particular story that I've repeated many times. The preacher was holding a meeting down in the south somewhere. He was having a dinner with a large family, and in the center of the table was one of those round spinning things with all the food on it. As it turned around you just helped yourself. Well the preacher had just taken a good amount of potatoes and was about to dig in when he heard the mother say "Don't you dare touch that food! You know its bad manners to eat before everyone is served!" In horror the man looked up to see the youngest boy being gripped by the ear and getting a good talking to - for doing exactly what he was about to do himself! He said he was silently so grateful to that boy he bought him a present later. I always thought that was a funny story, but what's in it for me?

 

Well, a few months back I was leading singing one Sunday morning. After we all had sung the song before the table, t sat down on the front pew. That day I was fighting a little bit of allergies and I thought I hadn't done a very good job with the singing. I thought about what I had done wrong and how I could do better. I thought about how I was going to be better for the next song I led.

 

Suddenly I heard a voice - Adam Kingry's mother, who was visiting at the time - say: "Shush! We're thinking about Jesus now!"

 

Sure, she was talking to the little Kingry rugrats. They were being ornery. And like Peter, the story from above came back to my recollection and I though WOW that was exactly what I needed to hear. I didn't weep, but I could have. Here we were, supposed to be remembering our Savior's death and I was wasting my time fretting and fussing about some worldly thing that didn't mean beans and that no one really cared about. If I'd have had candy, or gum, or anything I would have given it to those kids

after services.

 

I know its a silly bulletin, but today when the table is served do your best. Show good manners. And remember, please, that we're thinking about Jesus now.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Randy