Phil,
God has to have a sense of humor to put up with us human beings.  Thanks for 
the laugh.  It is a great way to start my day.  I know that feeling of 
frustration all too well.
Virgie and Hoshi
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Phil Scovell" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Sunday, January 29, 2006 7:33 PM
Subject: I wouldn't serve a God who didn't have a sense of humor


>     So here is the story.  don't laugh too hard.
>
>     It was Wednesday evening.  I was running late.  I was working
> as an assistant pastor, unpaid I might add, in a church of about
> just 10 to 15 people.  I was wearing my suit and tie and polished
> cowboy boots.  I didn't wear a cowboy hat yet in those days like I
> do now so this is probably why what I am about to describe
> happened in the first place.  If you don't understand what I just
> said, you'll have to read my testimony on my website called, God
> Might Where A Cowboy Hat.  Anyhow, back to the story.
>
>     It was summer.  We only had a window air conditioner at the
> time and not central air like we do now.  So, I get dressed up, or
> all gussied up as my mother in law used to say, in my Sunday Go To
> Meeting clothes.  There is one problem.  It is hot because it is
> summer and the front of our home faces toward the mountains.  The
> sun, when it starts dropping down over the mountains, shines into
> our dining room and partly into our living room.  Things really
> heat up then.  So, here I am, in my suit, ready to go, but when I
> got to looking for my cane, it was missing.  Cotton Pick it.  My
> grandchildren, I remember, had been playing with it earlier that
> day and I failed to get it back from the.  I ran for our front
> bedroom, which was piled high with boxes, because I was moving my
> office into that room.  Nothing was set up yet but there was boxes
> everywhere.  This room was super hot, no air conditioning at all,
> and the sun was practically melting the aluminum blinds over the
> windows as it bore a hole into the small room.  I looked and
> looked, bending and standing, and almost crawling around on my
> hands and knees trying to snag that cane among all the junk on the
> floor.  I could not find it and no one was around to help look.  I
> was getting hotter and sweatier and madder by the minute.  I
> started talking to myself.  It was about the grand children and
> how they would never be allowed to even touch my cane again.
> Furthermore, I felt my blindness barking at me and if I could just
> see, I could find the dumb cane.  Of course, later I realized that
> if I could see, I would not have been looking for a cane in the
> first place.  Eventually, I had talked myself into one hot mamma
> of an attitude.  In case you don't know what that means, and if
> you don't want to know, don't read what comes up next, but it
> means, down south, and where I came from, one hell of a bitch.
> Well, there goes my Christian standing among the holy.  Wait till
> you read the rest of the story, as Paul Harvey would say.
>
>     Here it comes.  By now, I was slamming around this hot oven
> of a room, sweat pouring off my masculine muscular body as I
> growled ominously like a wild grisly bear just coming out of
> hibernation, tossing boxes out of my way, and almost ready to
> strike a match to burn down the whole place.  so out of anger, I
> prayed.  "God, where is that cane? as I continued my search for
> what I knew had to be there some place on the floor.  Suddenly,
> after taking a step forward, I crashed into a box with something
> heavy inside of it and it did not move but I did.  I fell forward,
> my arms wind milling to snag something to keep myself from
> falling.  Alas, there was nothing, and head over heels I went,
> suit and all, over the box and on to the floor.  It is what came
> next that is funny but I don't think the church leaders of echurch
> will think so.  Yes, if you are thinking ahead of me, I said, and
> no fooling, I said it out loud, G D it.  At first I thought I
> would be struck by lighting any second for what I had done.  Then,
> as I lay on the floor, I began laughing.  It was almost like
> somebody, who shall go unnamed, was laughing at me, too, and no it
> was not the devil.  To this day, I am convinced, God pushed me, or
> allowed me, to fall over the box to teach me a lesson.  I also
> believe he laughed at his own prank, too.  Yes, then I found the
> cane laying inches from my fingers as I lay on the floor.  You
> can't tell me God didn't have a hand in this one.  Getting up, I
> went to church, riding with the pastor, and yes, it was a very
> humbling service for me that night.  No, I never told my story
> publicly until now.
>
> Phil.
> 
>
> Jesus Is Your Problem.  Luke 12:5
> www.SafePlaceFellowship.com