Humor

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Things aren't always as bad as they first appear. More often than not, at least according to my experience, they are worse. The more I try to put a positive spin on some things the worse they seem to get.

On the other hand the gracious Mistress of the Parsonage can trip, fall into a mud puddle and come up cleaner than her pre-fall condition, smelling like a rose in full bloom.

How she does it is one of the mysteries of our parsonage life.

One thing we are most careful about in the parsonage is money. Usually, there isn't an awful lot of it so care must be taken to make sure it goes as far as possible.

This always presents a challenge when it comes to vacation time.

Both my wife and I have concluded vacations are a necessary part of the ministry.

Years ago a friend chided me for taking a vacation. "The devil never takes a vacation," my friend expostulated in an arrogant sort of way.

"I realize that," I explained to him in a quiet, confident tone, "but Jesus always took a vacation and I have tried to pattern my life after Jesus and not the devil."

That ended his objection to my vacation-taking or at least, he never referred to it again in my hearing.

Vacation has been an important part of our planning in the parsonage. Through months of scraping, saving and cutting out coupons, my wife and I get ready for some serious R & R.

If there is a two-for-one coupon anywhere in the world, my wife can smell it. The key word in the parsonage is economy.

One some occasions, we have shamelessly used those time-share presentations as vacation time. If there is one thing my wife can do with an air of finality, it's saying "no" to a sales presentation.

I can't say "no," she can't say "yes" and I can't say "anything" when a salesperson is around.

Frequently, if it were not for the intervention of God, we could never afford a vacation. Just when the parsonage exchequer looks hopelessly bare, God comes to our rescue.

That rescue often comes in the form of money in the mail. Some people send money to the church for various projects sponsored by the church.

Sometimes people send money to the parsonage. Through the years, my wife and I have been scrupulously careful in this matter.

If in doubt, the money always went to the church.
When a person sent a check, it was easy to discern. Sporadically people will send cash to the church.

Infrequently some dear soul will send money for the pastor and wife. It is those times we are most careful.

One vacation time we were especially low in the cash department. We trusted the matter to God and waited to see how He would supply our need.

One of our favorite Bible verses is, "But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:19 KJV.)

It is truly amazing how God does this.

Several days before our vacation departure, we received a letter from a dear Christian friend. Included in the letter was a crisp new fifty-dollar bill. Along with the cash was a note explaining that the money was for our personal use.

I pulled out the fifty-dollar bill and waved it in front of my wife.

"This," I explained to her, "is our vacation money. No question about it."

She, of course, was as excited about it as I was. I carefully folded the money and put it in my shirt pocket and then I tenderly patted the pocket.

There is no feeling quite as exhilarating as God's intervention into a person's life.

"You had better be careful and not lose that money," my wife sarcastically warned me.

As we finished packing, my wife had to run to the store for some last minute items. As I put the finishing touches on my packing, I noticed my favorite shirt needed washing.

With some other items in the wash, I tossed it into the washing machine.

As I did so, a mischievous smile played at my mouth. Boy, I mused to myself, my wife will be pleased to see all this wash done.

In transferring the clothes from the washing machine to the dryer, I noticed a strange lump in my shirt pocket but just as I was to examine it more closely, the front door opened and in walked my wife.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed in that tone of voice known by all husbands indicating they are in trouble.

"What are you doing with that shirt? That isn't the shirt you were wearing with our fifty-dollar bill in it is it?"

At that moment, a strange feeling ran through my entire body. There have been many times I have wished my wife to be wrong and this was one of them.

Carefully, I pulled the shirt out of the dryer for closer examination. There was a lump in the area of the shirt pocket.

I didn't want to look. I really wanted to cry.

However, I cleared my throat - just in case I needed to yell really loud - and removed the strange lump from the pocket.

In unfolding the wet, greenish paper object, my heart sank. The more I unfolded it the more I began to recognize it as "our vacation money."

My good wife reminded me of that old saying, "God blesses, man messes up." And I surely did.

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