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Why is it that if your child has a project due for English class the next morning, that it is generally always true that there will not be enough ink in your printer to print said project? Such was my predicament when I arrived home this past Wednesday evening.
The day, as well as the week, had been full. We were grieving with the Atchley family. Joe was in ICU after a stroke. Hunter was in the Emergency Room at Children’s trying to get rehydrated. Reece Gordon was trying to make up his mind as to whether or not he was ready to come into this world. At the same time, doctors were trying to keep Ernie and Geraldine’s granddaughter from delivering her twins two months early.
In the midst of that, one of our children sent word through his mother that he was ready to make a profession of faith. Leaving church Wednesday night after worship and prayer, I was grateful for church members, deacons, and colleagues who were checking in with our folks in hospitals around the city. I needed to go visit with this young man who was ready to profess faith in Jesus Christ.
Talking with children can be fascinating, especially when we are OK with them talking like children. Talking with children about God can be downright thrilling. My conversation with Sean was both.
As the evening progressed, I began to get calls from folks who had checked on our members who were hospitalized. I was relieved that everyone seemed to be stable. Finding my way to the recliner, I turned on the Republican Convention. In no time, I was in a state of blissful nostalgia.
When I sat down and turned on the TV, the other recliner was unoccupied. As I listened to Governor Palin give her speech, I could not help but imagine my Pappaw sitting there watching with me. No doubt, the benefits of a cushioned reclining chair would have been lost on him as he watched. Both of his feet would have been planted on the floor and he would have been sitting on the edge of his seat with his fist slightly clinched. I know this because that is the same way he sat when he would watch professional wrestling.
Wrestling and Republican politics were two of Pappaw’s favorite things. He was not always a Republican. Something happened in the sixties to change his mind. It was either me being born or the Civil Rights Act of 1964 — I am not sure which — but I have my suspicions.
I know that Pappaw, without question, would vote for the McCain/Palin ticket; but I wonder how he would feel about voting for a woman. He could have voted for Anna Belle Clement O’Brien, but he would never have done so — she was a Democrat. A Republican woman, I think he probably would.
Then it happens: “There is no ink in the printer.” The project is due tomorrow. What to do? I call Wal-Mart. It is late and I need to know when they close. The answer is, “We don’t.”
Really? I have lived in Karns for eight years and I am just now finding out that the Wal-Mart on Clinton Highway never closes. How could I not know that already?
What a gift. I do not have to rush to get there before they close. “Relax, Pappaw, they’re open all night. The ink cartridge will be there when we get there. Let’s just enjoy this moment.”
Joy and peace,
Ed
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