4 posts from 2007

This one is about a cat who came to church

and stayed

and stayed.

I first noticed it one Sunday in winter.

A strange odor permeated our sanctuary. I didn't know what it was.

And so I kinda ignored it. Until the following Sunday, when I smelled it again. This time, there was no ignoring it. It was strong!

So after church, my curiosity getting the better of me (or did the cat already do that?), I asked a Trustee, "What IS that smell?"

"Well, pastor, it's like this. A cat got under our church, in the crawl space, somehow got in an open pipe, got stuck, and died."

"So I'm smelling a decomposing cat in our sanctuary?"

"Yes, pastor, you and everybody else. Nobody likes it."

"I see. I see. But what do the Trustees plan to do about it?"

"That's just the problem, pastor, because, well, it's the dead of winter and no one wants to go under there and get it out."

A week later I returned to the country church (it was one of two on a rural circuit) and the smell was gone.

I guess that's not the right word for it.

There was a new odor.

Lysol.

Lysol and dead cat!

Oh, great.

It wasn't till spring that they got out that dead cat and the room smelled okay again.

POINTS TO PONDER:

1. Sometimes you know something's amiss, but you need help to find out what it is. Do you ask for help when you need it?

2. Sometimes something is really amiss, but it's out of your control. How do you handle circumstances beyond your control?

3. Hardships often teach us patience, but we are unwilling students. How do you grin and bear it when you can't change something immediately?

"Make new friends, but keep the old.

"One is silver, but the other gold."

There's no friend like an old friend!

Thirty-two years ago I was finishing graduate school.

While I was there I made some wonderful new friends.

We get together once a year, a few days after Christmas, just to reconnect over dinner and conversation.

In this way, my new friends have become treasured old friends.

The Bible says in one place that "there is a friend who is closer than a brother" (or, sister).

There is a bond that develops over time between friends that is healthy for the body, mind, and spirit.

To me, these old friends are precious.

Points to Ponder:

1. I must first be a friend to myself.

2. To have friends, you must be a friend. Am I offering my friendship to others?

3. To enjoy friends, I must receive the gift of friendship from others. Am I able to receive, as well as offer, friendship?

4. Remember, the school of friendship has no graduates. It's an art, best practiced, never mastered. 

   When we were growing up, our house had a "door that leads to nowhere."

   You see, there were three small attics upstairs. One over the back porch. Two in front: a long, low one along a wide hallway that doubled as a pass-through bedroom, and a larger, walk-in one in the double bedroom at the end.

   The door leading to the larger, walk-in attic came to be known as the door that leads to nowhere.

   But when someone said, "Put this in the door that leads to nowhere," we instantly knew where that was.

   How it got that label I'll never know.

   But I am still amused at the known-only-to-us-Zollers name we used to identify it.

   I am the fourth child of six, raised by a father who was a grocer and a mother who was a homemaker.

   No one but us knows that Mom and Dad had a serious drug problem.

   Yes, that's right, Mom and Dad just couldn't stop.

   They drug us to church and Sunday School and Methodist Youth Fellowship.

   And so, as adults, we joined a support group called A.C.O.N.P.

   Oh, you haven't heard of Adult Children of Normal Parents?

   I suppose every family has pet names for things in their home.

   Ours was the door that leads to nowhere.

   Points to Ponder:

   1. "What's learned with pleasure is learned full measure."  How do you make your daily efforts really fun?

   2. Are there attitudes or behaviors you need to put away in a "door that leads to nowhere"?

   3. When will you act? 

"I just want you to pray for us," he said.

The stranger stood in our country church, set in the midst of dairy farms, hat in hand.

That morning at church when we asked for prayer requests,

several members offered their joys, thanksgivings, and concerns.

Then this man we had never seen before slowly rose to give his prayer request.

His clothes were anything but new.

After a moment's hesitation, he began to speak.

"I don't know what to do. My wife is sick ... she needs medicine,

"And I don't have insurance.  At work, I was recently laid off.

"I've been looking for work since, but haven't found any yet.

"I'm behind on the rent, my family's hungry, and I don't know where to turn.

"But I'm not asking for your help. Just pray for us."

We all sat there, deep in thought, when something else happened.

A little girl at his elbow reached up and tugged on his sleeve.

Then she asked him, in a small voice that could be heard in the stillness,

"Daddy, are they going to help us?"

The following Wednesday I attended the area minister's meeting.

"Say, colleagues, did any of you have a stranger visit your church?"

"You mean the fellow who says he has all these needs, then his daughter tugs on his sleeve?"

"Yep, that's the pair."

"He's been to my church."

"Was at mine three weeks ago."

"About a month ago at mine."

A wise, older pastor spoke next. "It's the perfect con. He tells us his sob story. Sounds real. Actually says, 'I'm not asking for your help.' Then his daughter asks, 'Daddy, are they going to help us?'"

At each church, the effect was the same. After worship, our members rushed over to the man to give him twenties and fifties.

The perfect con, the police said, because he never asked for help.

Points to Ponder:

1. What story am I telling myself that sounds oh-so-good, but in my heart I know it's just a con?

2. What story do I need to tell myself in order to get real?

3. When will I start playing that new tape in my head?