Presby-Musings

I was driving down the one decent four lane highway that cuts a swath through my little town, connecting it with some of the other little towns that make up North Lake County, FL, and eventually leading to Orlando and civilization. That's not exactly need-to-know information, but perhaps it gives you an idea of where I live. Oh, and by civilization, I mean anywhere where the Starbucks is not inside a Target. Check that. I consider myself blessed to even have a Starbucks in my little town. Well, technically it's in one of the little towns that the four lane highway connects with mine, but whose splitting hairs? At any rate, there was a highway and I was on it. So as I am driving, I see this bald guy wearing a Superman costume on the side of the road. And the bald guy in the Superman costume is holding a "T-Mobile" sign with an arrow pointing to the strip mall behind where he's standing. I deduced two things: 1) The T-Mobile store was undoubtedly hard up for cu

I have to preach a sermon in less than 24 hours, and I've been sweating over it all week. Quite literally. I sweat a lot when I work out. And when I mean a lot, I mean more than most people. The other day I went to a spin class and really worked up a sweat. I looked around at the people in my class, most of whom were women. They were sweating, some of them anway, but not like me. My wife was next to me and she just sort of glistens. I was literally pouring sweat. It flowed out of me like I was being squeezed like an orange. Beneath my cycle there was a huge puddle. I watched as drops would descend like rain to the floor, literally splashing as they landed. It was flat out nasty. No one else had a puddle under their cycle, not even the other dude that was in the class. He had a couple of drops to wipe up when all was said and done. I needed a squeegee and a mop to clean mine. I wondered where all that water was coming from, and why I seemed to be shedding more than mos

The other day my wife and I were driving through the parking lot of the gym that we frequent. I was trying to get the Walgreen's across the street and was searching for a suitable exit. As I turned to go down one of the rows, I was met by a guy driving the wrong way in a huge truck with a trailer attached to it. I had to literally pull into an empty parking space to avoid being crushed. This did not sit well with me at all. "I hate people who do that!" I exclaimed. "Seriously. There are like ten rows that this idiot could have driven down and he had to choose one going the wrong way. Come on!" My wife, gentle soul that she is, gave me holy heck for reacting the way I did. "You shouldn't say you hate anyone," she told me. And then she added for good measure and to twist the long knife of guilt deeper into my heart, "You're a pastor, you should know better!" I went on to explain how I didn't really mean that I hated the dud