Thanks for sharing that, Phil.  That's really funny!  I think we all
need to realize that believers, and even leaders, are human.
David
Don't let the god of this world be the God of your world.
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Peggy Kern" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Sunday, January 29, 2006 11:43 PM
Subject: Re: I wouldn't serve a God who didn't have a sense of humor


Phil, that's hilarious!  It's one of those ABAPITA moments we all 
have!  And nothing, to my mind, sounds funnier than a blind person 
doing a huge crash!  I'm sitting here giggling at the thought of 
dignified Brother Phil flying over the box and letting loose with 
anger, only to burst out laughing a minute later, lying there on the 
floor in his sweat-stained suit, newly-found cane in his 
hand!  <lol>  Thanks for sharing!

Peggy

At 04:33 PM 1/29/2006, you wrote:
>      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