From the Back Row

Hi.

Hope you are well.

Went to church this morning, as usual.

Thought I'd share what I learned from the usual and unusual folks there.


***


The Back Row

That's where I sit.  Have for years.  Probably always will.

Few people can see me when I laugh at inappropriate times, yawn, sweat or nod off; except the preacher -- and he loves me, so it's OK.

I brag about being the "minister to the back row."  Nobody can last long on my row without me trying to say hello.  At least once.  Just a friendly hello.  More, if they want to talk.

I tell them about the nice people all around us, and how the preacher is used by God to speak to me week after week, year after year.  If you get to know me better, I'll tell you that I love my church because it has no single's group (I go to church to meet with God), no jumbo-tron video monitors, no smoke machines, and no "7-11" music (seven words sung 11 times).

My pastor isn't ever going to be in the news, good or bad.  Unlike former pastors, he's not prettier than any of my wives; more polished than a newbie's Harley; smoother than a car salesman; or, as unholy as men and women who seem to sell access to God's blessings based upon how much money you give to them -- through the church, of course.

I am the token hippie.  The black sheep embraced my most and tolerated by all.  That's nice.  I love the kids there, the old people (those my age) and most everyone else.  I look forward to being with them, as we spend time with God.


***


The Lady with Skronked Hair

Don't get me wrong.  I don't judge people based on their hairstyles.  (Usually.)

This lady is toned-down pretty.  An unpainted lady.  Married.  3.2 kids.  Handsome, suited hubby -- who seems a tad uptight.

TLSH was a few rows ahead of me today.  Teal top.  Un-form-fitting skirt.  My guess is she was trying to conceal a dandy figure from the men like me.  (Whoever *we* are.)  She simply was not accentuating her form, that's all.

Her two boys sat next to her ... in teal-ish, matching tops.  They were normal, fidgety kids.  Well-mannered, well-dressed, well-everything'd.

TLSH wore no jewelry.  Nails weren't all fancied up.  The front of her hairdo looked fine.  She spent less time on the sides.  Evidently, she had no time to invest in the back of her hair because it was kinda limp, albeit with some evidence that it had been pampered a time or two in the past.

Not that she neglected her looks, mind you.  Just that her highest priority had nothing to do with impressing those who scrutinized her.  (Not that anyone would do THAT, right?)

Seems to me, she had higher priorities than pleasing anybody who sat behind her in church today.  Seems to me, she probably rose first this morning.  Made breakfast for her family.  Drilled her boys out of bed, through the bathroom, into their clothes, to the breakfast table and out the door to church ... on time.

Seems to me she had the perfect balance between letting kids be kids in church, paying attention to the sermon and songs, minding her boys so that they didn't bother the more fussy worshippers ... while she put her arm around her sons ... hugged them ... touched them ... loved them ... cared for them.  Without fanfare.  Or a fancy hairdo.  Or perfect nails.  Or lots of bangle-y bracelets.  Or showy clothes.  Or extra time spent on herself, instead of others.

I honestly believe God informed me that He is pleased with her. 
Very.

If I were as weird as some people think, I would tell her that.
But I won't.

Probably.


***


Pat & Cindy

Newcomers.  He's the quiet scientist.  She's the effervescent, attractive-in-lots-of-ways type you'd pick to head a committee or represent your company.

Saw them again today on my back row.

Cindy greeted me and repeated their names, so I wouldn't be embarrassed because I forgot.  Again.

Retired.  Fancy address.  Nice People.

Asked them what their plans were for retirement.  Travel?

Asked what their goals were ... what their plans were ... yadda, yadda, yadda.

They were sweet.

When I finished giving them my quiz, Cindy said their main focus was ...

[more in a minute]


***


My Friend in the Hallway

Saw JC.  (No, not HIM!  Those are his initials!  Sheeeeeeeesh.)

He is always kind to me.  Gets close.  Leans toward me.  Scrunches his shoulders forward.  Stretches his head toward me ... like he's going to look over a wall or something.

His eyes get big when we talk ... mostly of my trauma de jours ("daily troubles" for those who cannot decipher my version of French).

JC keeps telling me that he doesn't know how he would handle the trials I endure.  (Lost my job about a month ago.  My daughter told me -- again -- last week that she would not let me have time with my granddaughter before school starts -- even though she hasn't been to my house since Christmas.)

[No, I am not going to list all my woes here.  You have your own.]


JC has a great wife.  5.75 perfect kids.  Great, but HARD job.  He's respected, healthy, fun and close to God.  He is well.

Just as he would be if his life fell apart. 
He just doesn't know it.
Hope he never has to find out.


Told JC I'm helping an author develop a book about having hope in the midst of utter chaos and calamity -- specifically, in Haiti.

That's where people have real troubles.
That's where the people are that *I* do not want to trade places with.


***


Trading Places

Ask anyone in any war-ravaged village. 
Anyone in any Third-World hovel. 
Anyone in a prison or hospital. 
Zillions of Chinese or Indian drones; villagers in Africa or South America.

Ask them if they'd like to change places with a guy in America.

A guy with a beautiful home that he has all to himself.
Plenty of food and clean water and 2.5 toilets.
Money in the bank.  Healthy.  Joyful. 
Free to worship, work, travel and pursue happiness.

Ask any 40-something in a bad marriage.
Those burdened with impossible-to-pay school loans.
Or medical bills.

Ask someone with no health insurance, car, food, shelter or clothes.

Ask if they'd trade places with me ... in a heartbeat.

**

The people who fear that they'll end up like me, whether through:

the wrath of God or former wives
self-destructive habits
misfortune
poor decisions
getting caught doing something illegal or immoral
or whatever

don't understand how good a life I have.

It's just not perfect, that's all.
I lack their greatest blessings, but I have no lack of great blessings.

The good news is: I am aware of how blessed I am. 
And I am thankful.


***


Pat & Cindy, Revisited


Cindy -- a woman who appears to be a "Don't you worry, honey.  I've got your back.  I'll fight for you and we're gonna win.  Together!!" -- kind of wife,

responded to my question about what they're gonna do now that she and Pat are retired.

"Pat has cancer.  We're gonna deal with that."

No hint of *anything* related to "poor him/me/us."
No reference to "why" this bad thing happened to good people.

No war paint or fist shaking.
Just the kind of thoughts you hear in the South sometimes.
"I don't wanna fight you.  But I sure-as-heaven will, if I have to.  And I'll win."

I prayed for Pat.  Right there in our back row.


Told God later that I felt He had given Pat a great wife.  Asked God to heal Pat and to use him for His glory for years to come.

Thanked God for my health.   My problems.  My trials.

Because God knows ... I don't think I could handle troubles like the ones that Pat and Cindy face.

**

Yup.

It's easier to write blogs than it is to trust God and live in reliance on the truth that He will never leave us nor forsake us. 


Even in the valleys of:

unemployment
divorce
broken relationships
loneliness
bills
medical issues
the death of loved ones
wants/needs for the basics that we Americans feel we deserve
whatever problems you have
whatever problems your family has
whatever problems your neighbors have
broken dreams/promises/hopes

even ... cancer.


It's easy to forget that this life to which we cling
is merely the opening act for eternity.

Eternity with God ...
or without God.


We will know that God is trustworthy for His promises of forever
when we learn that He is trustworthy to keep His promises to meet our needs today.

No matter what happens.

Have
No
Fear

God cares for His own.

Even better than all the world's wonderful Cindys.
Combined.