The Phil Files

Ever had one of THOSE Sunday’s?

Of course you have! Everybody has had one of THOSE Sunday’s! But I’m the preacher and I’m not supposed to have them — although reality means that I have them probably more than anyone!

I hadn’t eaten hardly anything on Saturday, so I disgustedly began the Lord’s Day by looking down at my ugly feet, to see 1.5 extra pounds registering on the scales. What? I re-weighed 2 more times using another scale for one of them. Speaking the truth … but not in love … my repeated weighings indicated the same grim fact. I managed to gain weight on air and water. Sunday was not off to a good start!

Externally, all other indications said it was a good Sunday. But by the time I got up to do the second part of my “Time in the Word,” we were running late and I rushed it … and really wasted it … at least that is the way it seemed to me. But then, us preacher types are not very good judges of these types of things. When we think we’ve really nailed it, people go away non-plussed. Then we go home thinking we laid a big fat rotten egg, and people have their socks blessed off. These occasions are times that we are humbled and reminded that we are far less important in the experience than the Holy Spirit showing up and doing his miracle thing with our frail words.

Bottom line: we ran long … again! And it was too hot. And it was way crowded. So I was not much in a holy mood when I finished. My bad, I know. But that is just the way it was in my head and heart.

So, when we I got to the restaraunt about 30 minutes late, after my family and my folks had gone to hold us a place while I did the grip and grin deal, I was really ready for a great lunch. We sometimes go the Cotton Patch in Abilene. Usually the food is great, homestyle food. However, after I cleaned off my dirty fork and got about half through with my grilled pork chop, I realized that it wasn’t done. Now I didn’t want to be a jerk — I’ve often commented that wait staff frequently talk about their rudest customers being Sunday Church Going Jerks (SCGJ) so I didn’t want to make a big stink about it. But, I did try to kindly ask that I get cooked a little more. My poor waiter was very apologetic, but I tried to reassure him that I knew he wasn’t the one who had under-cooked my little piggie.

They took my three pieces of pork chop and put them back on the grill. The manager came by while I was waiting for my pork chop to be cooked a little more and gave me a free appetizer for the next visit, which seemed kinda nice, but I really thought the meal should be given to me free and I could leave and get a sandwich at home. It’s hard to resurrect your appetite after realizing you had eaten a half done pork chop with a dirty fork and then having dreams of 9th grade health class where they describe trichinosis worms slowly eating you alive because you ate raw pork!

Of course, to add a bit of “soothing comfort,” my mom reminded me that the Jews didn’t eat pork for just this reason. About that time, they came back with some of my originally under-cooked chop. Only two of the three pieces were missing! I reminded myself that at least the part that came back was done. So I swallowed down the nausea and cut into it and … discovered it still wasn’t done.

Now I’m on a low carb diet to loose a bunch of weight, but I couldn’t help it. It didn’t matter that I have to answer to a friend and my doctor, both of whom go to church with me, and that I sometimes have a bit of allergic reaction to them, I ate two of their delicious rolls to drown my sorrow. Yum, yum, were they good … until …

I got about half way to Home Depot and the allergy ache kicked in. So now I had the allergy ache to go with the bad attitude and the extra 1.5 pounds and the nausea from eating under-cooked pork. Well, at least I was going to help my wife get a dryer to replace that squeaking thing about to blow up in the laundry room. I reassured myself as we headed to Home Depot which was nearby.

Donna had bought a washer there a few weeks earlier. The timing stunk for both of them to go out, but we’ve been married nearly thirty years and had owned only two others in our marriage life and the first one was used when we got it! We couldn’t complain, too much. Besides, Donna knew exactly where to go and so we went there. I knew we were in trouble when we looked at the space where the dryer was supposed to be and it was empty. We caught the eye of several attendants as we made our way to appliances, but no one seemed to care as we stood there for about 5 minutes. Not a good sign.

Now a nauseated, allergy aching preacher, inexplicably up 1.5 pounds, who is unsatifisfied with his Sunday sermon is not a very patient customer. So I went over to a person stocking items and kindly asked — once again not wanting to be a SCGJ — and asked if we could be helped. Bless his heart, he went to two other people near the appliances and one of them paged for help in appliances while the other one ran off like we had leprosy. We waited 3 or 4 minutes. I looked back at the stocker. He then paged for someone to help in appliances. We repeated this process another two times. We had been standing before the empty spot where the dryer was supposed to be for over 25 minutes when I had to admit that I didn’t care if I was a SCGJ. I’m sorry to say it, but I was scorched … to go with being 1.5 pounds up and unsatisfied with my sermon, carrying around a bad attitude, being nauseated from eating a raw pork chop and having the allergy ache. So, I took the sign for the drier out of the display and we marched to the check out counter to get them to get our dryer and let us go home.

After waiting in line for 10 minutes because there were not enough checkers, we finally reached a really sweet checker who desperately wanted to help us, but … since we were wanting to have the dryer delivered, we had to go to customer service … at the opposite end of the store. So, off we marched. Now my normally ultra-patient wife was getting a little preturbed as she trudged across the store with her SCGJ of a preacher husband with a bad attitude to go with his nausea from eating an uncooked dead pig who was up 1.5 pounds the day before from breathing air and who had the allergy ache from eating two forbidden rolls and who now could finish cooking his raw pork chop with his eyes that were white hot lasers.

When we got to customer service, guess who we found? One person from customer service and three people who worked in appliances, none of whom had answered the 4 pages earlier. One was on the phone ordering appliance stuff and told the customer service person he didn’t want to interrupt his order. A second was on her mobile phone talking to who knows? And the third was a genuinely nice guy who was trying to help, but … after 20 more minutes and telling us he wasn’t sure when it could be delivered and having to go back to look for the number of the electrical kit necessary to install the dryer that was going to cost an extra xxx dollars, Donna and her SCGJ of preacher husband kindly said, “We are going to leave now.”

Whew were we mad. But not ugly. Just mad. Fifty minutes with nothing to show for it. My only consolation was that I was so hot and mad, I can guarantee that the uncooked dead pig in my belly was well done now and in my mind, I could see those dead trichi worms floating in my rising bile deader than hammers.

By the time we got home, I had calmed down, but Donna’s simmering frustration got the better of her. So she went on the Home Depot website and found a place to submit customer service complaints. She spent the next 30 minutes filling out her form to complain and tell them she would never shop at Home Depot again.

Meanwhile, I had turned on NASCAR and had dozed off to do what all self-respecting preachers should do on Sunday afternoon — sleep away their Sunday morning blues. About the time I woke up, Donna came in laughing that fatalistic laugh of resignation. She had carefully written this message to let Home Depot know how we were treated and she pressed the send button on the Home Depot form and … up popped a message that said, “We are sorry, but we cannot process your information.”

No joke! I’m not making this up. I’m not even exaggerating. To top it off, Donna assumed she could simply hit the back button and then cut and paste her note into letter and send it to big Home Depot in cyberspace. But, you guessed it, it was gone! That message was no more to be found than someone to help in the appliance department.

As she began to describe this last cherry to put on top of our Sunday cow pie, I looked up at the NASCAR race and guess who was leading? Tony Stewart. Now for the uninitiated, Tony Stewart drives a bright orange and white car sponsor by … Home Depot! Unbelievable!! I couldn’t make this kinda stuff up.

Well, I can laugh about all of this now. Partially because Kevin Harvick nudged out Tony Stewart for the victory and to keep the Home Depot nightmare from continuing. Second, some time has passed and Donna went back to our old tried and true appliance supplier, SEARS. It took her 10 minutes total to get a dryer, free delivery, and kind and courteous service. Why did we ever depart from the straight and narrow way? The Lord used my anger to edit and post 9 Heartlight.org articles in 4 hours on Sunday evening, so I’m now getting ready to get out of town for a little fishing with a missionary friend, a dear brother in Christ, his son, and godly fishing guide in Alaska.

So far, no trichi worms have eaten me up and now Donna agrees with me that shopping on Sunday is evil and that 6-7 pieces of Kentucky fried chicken and slaw, a cold Dr. Pepper, enjoyed in old jeans on my favorite chair in front of a NASCAR race where Kurt Bush spins out both he and Tony Stewart as Little E, Jeff Gordon, and Kasey Kahne battle it out for victory is not such a bad Sunday afternoon.

Now if I can just get church out on time and find a Bluebell Ice Cream and Kentucky Friend Chicken diet that actually work, I’ll be in hog-less heaven.

In the Heartlight article today, The Power of Memory, I share some thoughts on the Lord’s Supper. When were your most memorable times taking the Lord’s Supper?