A Weekend at Church

And that’s what it felt like, the whole weekend. Actually, it was most of Saturday and half of Sunday, but it seemed like we just blew right past the weekend with hardly a breath of air. We had our annual Mission’s conference and my wife is the leader for that little team, so we had to be there most of both days to be sure everything was taken care of. Of course, the time I spent there was nothing compared to the ladies who spent all day Saturday and a good bit of Sunday morning cooking.

I got in rather late of Friday after helping my son move some furniture, then stopping by the Sports Café in Villa Rica to hear a buddy’s band play. Moving the furniture was supposed to be easy but we couldn’t get the sofa in the front door. We turned that sofa in every direction we could and it just would not fit in the opening. We even tried to force it in, but wood is a very stubborn thing and will not bend or squeeze. We ended up having to take a leg off. Nathan will fix that later.

Anyway, I was a little tired on Saturday morning from that bit of work and then spending time at a bar. I had to get up early to get to the church for an 8 o’clock meeting and it was a jammed packed day from that time on. Kathy and I put up banners after that, then I had to run home and put new brakes on my car (a much harder endeavor than it should have been). I took a shower and headed back to the church to prepare for the dinner that night in honor of the missionaries. And then, after cleaning up, we went home and I worked on music stuff for Sunday.

An interesting little incident occurred Saturday when Kathy and I stopped at Quisnos for lunch. We were waiting in line and a nice young man was behind the counter attempting to make a sandwich for a very rude and impatient man. The man showed very little tolerance for the employee’s attempt to understand what exactly it was he wanted and I quickly grew tired of the man’s attitude. “I WANT A TUNA FISH SANDWICH, DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT A TUNA FISH SANDWICH IS?” he asked rather loudly.
I think the problem was that the store had a menu that the young man was used to and the older rude guy wanted it done HIS way. This guy was dressed like he was transported out of the 50’s, with a straw hat, round spectacles and neatly ironed shorts and shirt. And, I thought later that the guy may actually have been a racist instead of just being an intolerant, rude jerk. At any rate, I listened to him try to humiliate the young man for a minute or 2 then spoke up, “look, you don’t have to be rude, he’s just trying to get your order right”. I said this matter-of-factly with little emotion and without raising my voice. I was actually leaning on wall and patiently waiting my turn. He turned to look at me as if he was sizing me up, then threw up his arms in disgust and announced that the order could just be cancelled and he stormed out. Good riddance. I think the store would have cheered if they hadn’t felt so uncomfortable and nervous over the whole thing. People are afraid to speak up now days, and rightly so. You don’t know if someone will return and shoot the place up later.

Sunday arrived as early as Saturday. I had to get to church early to get things ready for the band to arrive for warm up. We went through that and the service, then a luncheon for the church, which led us to another cleanup. But, even with all of that we managed to get home by 3pm. Took a short nap and headed to Hiram to meet friends for dinner.

And, even though it was a busy weekend, it was good to meet old friends again (returning missionaries) and spend time with others. I had to take off Monday to take the tables back to the rental place and do some running around and was able to relax a bit in the afternoon. I’m just thankful I still have the health and energy to exert on something like this. I don’t know how I’ll enjoy getting old, but I shouldn’t have to think about that for at least 30 more years.