Everyone has their own preferences for arriving promptly to various destinations. Is it strange that people can be punctual to doctor’s appointments, mealtimes, or sport’s events, but getting to church at an appropriate time becomes flexible and insignificant?
I believe women tend to prepare commendably, even though they have more to do. They plan for the allotted time to style their hair, put on makeup, get dressed, and have a bite to eat…with ample time to arrive just a touch early to mingle with others. On the other hand, some men like to relax, take a shower at the last minute and even watch TV or go back to bed for a quick nap.
My husband is a perfect example. I will be all ready to go holding my Bible and standing by the door, as he shouts from the bedroom, “I will be right there, honey.”
Then patiently waiting in the car, I check my watch. After five minutes or so, I get out of the car and go back into the house.
“Are you ready yet?”
As my husband slowly ties his shoe, “Yep, I’m coming.”
He settles in the driver’s seat and suddenly remembers he forgot his Bible.
“I’ll be right back,” as he disappears through the front door. Still feeling confident, I look at my watch again and wait another five minutes.
As he checks out the rose bushes along the sidewalk, he finally finds the car, and slowly opens the back car door to position his Bible carefully on the seat. Sliding into the driver’s seat as though he recently broke his leg, he smiles and looks at me intently.
“Do you have the keys?”
Frantically searching through my purse, “No, I thought you did!”
“I know where they are, I left them in my pair of pants when I went to the store.”
Consequently, another run to the house puts us back a few more minutes.
“Finally, let’s go,” I insisted, as we backed down the driveway. I am sure I hear my wonderful husband thinking..."Right on!" under his breath.
Expecting another well-planned delay, I react quickly, “Wait, aren't we turning the wrong way?”
“Oh, I forgot to get the mail on Saturday, only takes a minute to get it.”
In desperation, I calculate the distance to the mailbox and take a deep breath. Nearly ten minutes late now, I glance at the speedometer... “Isn't the speed limit here 35? We are only going 25.”
“Oh yeah"….he winked, "we have plenty of time.”
As we take the long way to church, we finally pull into the parking lot with a few minutes to spare.
“See, we made it…how come you look a little flushed honey, are you coming down with something?”
I roll my eyes, as I hurry to the front entrance. I am beginning to realize, my husband’s “on time” and my “on time” is not the SAME time!
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