23 Jan 2010
Living in the Sunshine state of Florida and seeing snow accumulating on the ground is the closest thing to blasphemy I know. Everybody knows it does not snow in Florida.
The other night I was so cold I tried to pick a fight with my wife just to get into some hot water. Unfortunately, she was too cold to participate and so we sat together shivering and trying to keep warm.
Just when I thought all of that cold was behind me it happened.
Some people say that the inevitable is simply that. I, the other hand, do not know the meaning of the word inevitable. But if it means something that is supposed to happen will happen then I guess, it has happened to Yours Truly.
Several nights later all was quiet in our domicile when trumpeting down the hallway came a sneeze of the like I have never heard before. Then came a series of sneezes each louder than the previous one. Following the sneeze came an eerie moaning. At first, I could not make out the words. It sounded like something from outer space.
After another crescendo of sneezing, I heard the moaning again but this time I was able to make out the words, "I think I'm sick."
At first, I was stunned because those words and sneezing were not coming from me. And, I usually do not think. Then a dreadful thought gripped the remnant of my brain. If I am not sick and sneezing, who is?
At that time, a most frightful creature emerged from the dim hallway. It was a balky creature with its head out of proportion in size to its body and a large, thin flickering tongue. Never before in my life have I seen such a creature. Whether it was human or not was for me to decide. I had been cold before, but this time I froze in my tracks. Was this a home invasion? Was my life in mortal danger?
The strange figure kept coming at me out of the darkness, hissing and puffing and sneezing as it came. I was about ready to scream bloody murder when I recognized the hallway monster. It was the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage wearing her bathrobe with a huge towel wrapped around her head and a thermometer sticking out her mouth.
Looking at me with watery, bloodshot eyes she said, "I don't feel so good."
At the time, I was tempted to say, "That's all right, you don't look so good, either." However, not knowing the kind of monster she had morphed into, I checked my razor-sharp wit at the front door.
Then the hallway exploded with another crescendo of sneezing, all of it, by the way, in my specific direction. The hallway is rather narrow and the force of her sneeze was like a tornado.
Like a jackrabbit on steroids, I jumped out of the way of the flying germs as best I could. Not knowing what infectious diseases my beloved was carrying, I was not in such a sharing mood as I could have been.
Then the room begin to rumble again and I heard her say, "I don't feel good."
Up to this point in our marital relationship getting sick was the sole responsibility of Yours Truly. I am the one that comes down with everything that goes around. I am the one who looks like an unshaven monster in the morning. I am the one that groans and grouches, especially when he is sick.
I have a special relationship with my bathroom mirror. Before actually coming into the bathroom, I knock and in a loud voice tell my mirror I am coming in. The first time I did this without knocking my mirror took one look at me and cracked in all four directions.
Now, someone other than Yours Truly is scaring the heebie-jeebies out of people. Actually, it is quite nice not to be the disfigured object for the moment.
Whatever my wife had, it had her and had her good.
Now the tables were turned. And by tables, I mean the dinner table. It would be my responsibility now to prepare the meals for "She-Who-Is-Sick." The $64,000 question was, would S.W.I.S. survive the culinary attempts of a nutritionally-challenged-cook?
I made a nice cup of tea and took it in to her. At least I know how to make hot tea. Of course, it took me four attempts to make her tea. The first 3 cups were not quite hot enough, so I had to throw them out.
I took the hot tea into her and said, "Here is some nice tea. Don't you worry about a thing; I'll take care of everything and do all the cooking. You just get some rest."
With that, an unearthly moan escaped from her trembling lips.
I heard back into the kitchen and commenced my preparation of the meal. It was not long before I heard some rustling behind me, and when I turned around there was my wife.
"I'm feeling much better now, I'll make lunch."
I did not know that my cooking would have such a miraculous effect upon someone as sick as my wife.
As I walked out of the kitchen, I was reminded of a wonderful verse of Scripture. "It is better to trust in the LORD than to put confidence in princes" (Psalms 118:9 KJV).
I may be a prince, but do not trust my cooking.
Rev. James L. Snyder