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Screaming like a banshee

I am once again filling in our church office. I don’t mind doing it at all. In fact, I feel honored that I can and that they let me do it.  I know there are more people who are much more qualified to fill in than I am but still they let me.

Yesterday morning the pastor called before I got there and left a message. In it he said he was going to take a few hours and rest before coming in the office. Now you have to know something, this man works like a dog. Actually that isn’t true, I think a dog takes more naps and breaks than the pastor does. Our pastor worked several extra hours last week preparing for the funeral and just being available to the family and the church family. He did all this in addition to preparing his sermon for Sunday and everything else he does.

Whew. It makes me tired just thinking about it. I didn’t think anything about his taking a few hours to rest and not coming in until around noon. Until he called around 10:30 or 11 and said he’d be coming in “in a few hours.”

He did show up around 1. Which really was not a problem. Until the office phone rang, while he was standing in the office hollering.

Or screaming like a girl. Take your pick.

Just why was he screaming? He was opening his mail and got a paper cut from something heavier than copy paper, heavier than card stock. But not as heavy as a manila folder or a cardboard box. He was hollering and shaking his hand so violently I was afraid it would look like I had killed the pastor in there.

Which I would never do. I just had a horrible thought. I’ve been hooked on CSI: Miami the past couple of weeks and let’s just wonder what would happen if this poor man were to turn up dead some place? Would I be the second on the suspect list? Second because you know the spouse is always the first.

I am just going to go out on a limb and say this, I do not wish the man dead or injured. Not at all. Mainly because I’m way too nice for, and partly for two other reasons, 1) I’m afraid of his wife and 2) I get sick at the sight of blood.

I don’t mean just a little upset stomach. No, it’s more than a simple bout of nausea. It’s  not pretty. And let’s not talk about it anymore.

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Author:

Child of the Most High God, Wife, Home-schooling Momma of 2. I love Jesus, people and coffee. I am the somewhat eternal optimist viewing the coffee cup as half nothing, it's full...even when I'm chewing the grounds at the bottom.

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