Saturday, November 14, 2009

Can I Hear An Amen?

I’m writing this from soggy Manteo which has gotten 10-12 inches of rain in the space of a couple days. One native of the area told us that this is the most rain he’s ever seen in that short amount of time.

Last night Steve and I went and paid a brief visit to one of our parishioners who had put huge pumps in his front yard in an attempt to deal with his extensive flooding. I must say, he was keeping a good attitude about it all.

I would have been crying. Or eating chocolate. Because either one works equally well in stressful situations. Can I hear an, “Amen?”

And speaking of amen, I remember a time once when Steve was preaching and instead of saying, “Can I hear an amen?” he inadvertently said, “Can I say an amen?”

And the audience was like, “Well sure, knock yourself out. Say an amen!”

This morning, Steve had a breakfast/board meeting at the church. Since he had to get a few things done ahead of time, he set the alarm on his phone for 5:15 before going to bed.

I was sleeping away soundly when I heard Snowy (MY alarm clock) go off. I stumbled around in our borrowed bedroom, introduced my shins and toes to a few pieces of unfamiliar furniture and finally dragged myself (bleeding and wounded) to the living room where Snowy’s kennel is.

As I let him outside, I saw that it was still raining, still cold, still yucky. I trudged back inside, wandered into the kitchen and saw on the microwave clock that it was 5:05. Stifling the world's largest yawn, I made the "wonderful mommy decision" to take Snowy to bed rather than put him back into his kennel. (I don't usually do that but he’s been so pitiful with Sarah gone this weekend that I thought I would be extra nice to him.)

Steve woke up when we came back into the bedroom and I told him it was about time for him to get up. He jumped out of bed, turned on the lamp, put on his clothes, stuck on his shoes and strapped on his watch.

And then he happened to look at his watch. And he noticed that it was not 5:10 after all, it was actually 4:10. As it turns out, the microwave clock had never been changed after daylight savings time ended.

So there we were.

One awake (fully dressed) pastor, one awake (fully pajama- clad) wife, and one awake (fully unclothed) dog--all hangin’ out in the wee hours of a miserable, rainy Roanoke Island morning.

Steve pondered the situation for a moment and then shrugged and said, “Well, I guess I’ll go back to bed!” And so the fully clothed fella and the pajama clad wife and the fully unclothed doggy all crawled back to bed until the real alarm rang at 5:15.

Steve got up (again) and took off for the church while Snowy and I snuggled back under the blankets. Because a miserable, rainy, Roanoke Island morning is the best time in the whole world for staying in bed.

Can I hear an amen?

9 Had Something To Say (Just click here!):

Debbie said...


God Bless~
Debbie Jean

Beverly said...

Amen! the rainy mornings when we can sleep in...

Ann Martin said...

Sounds like a good deal to me! I have enjoyed the past two nights staying up until 3:30 or 4 AM and sleeping in until 10:30 or 11 AM. It is unusual with my schedule but delightful due to the rain, cold, and wind. Prince would go outside, step on the grass and turn around coming right back in. Too much for him. He snuggles with me and sometimes with Jim in bed but last night was all me. Glad the rain has stopped for now. Does your church have Sunday evening services? I noticed that your family is back in Smithfield by 9 PM at times so I assume not. Just think--next week end more family members will be with you including a handsome young man.

Anonymous said...

Checking in from the "Amen" corner over here. I feel your rain pain.. we've had more than our share several times in the past couple of months. I feel your 5:15 pain, too, since that's my usual wakeup time during the week. Not so joyfully, I might add... ! Hope tomorrow is filled with sunshine AND Sonshine....

Catherine said...

A good time to check the flooding status of the basement and yard of your house, Becky.

We are dealing with a leaky basement ourselves, sigh.

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