It was a few days after Halloween and I was driving across the country.
Sixteen hours. Alone.
I was constantly searching for cheap(er) gas, only stopping at fast food restaurants where I had coupons, and paying half of my life savings to the state of West Virginia in tolls.
I got cranky fast. At two dollars a pop, those tolls were adding up fast. It cost me more to drive through West Virginia than I spent on food, by the way.
But then I got an idea.
At the next toll booth, I pleasantly greeted the man. What an awful job he has. I handed him a five dollar bill. He gave me my change. I took it and extended my hand with a Baby Ruth in it.
"Happy Halloween," I said. He laughed. Not a chuckle, not a smirk, not a courteous "that was a joke attempt that wasn't really funny." No, a full-belly laugh.
The gate went up, I wished him a good day and drove off. Maybe his day really was good. After all, he had a fun size Baby Ruth to munch on until the next driver came.
But my day was good. I had "miles to go before I sleep and miles to go before I sleep" but I also had his laughter bottled up in my memory.
All it took was a piece of candy and a smile. It didn't hurt me a bit.
I've heard it said it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile. The huge bag of Trick or Treat candy was sitting in my passenger seat just waiting, begging to be eaten (maybe that's why I spent so little on food). I don't even like Baby Ruth. But from this guy's laugh, he does.
Make a difference today. It doesn't hurt much. Laughter overrides cranky.
<>< Katie
Showing posts with label joke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label joke. Show all posts
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
Communion
I was a little frazzled as I headed towards the front of church for communion. Our self-guided section turned into a mob rather than a line. By the time we half-organized ourselves, I was ready for body, blood, seat. That fast.
I stepped to the front, held my hands out for the wafer, and looked up into the face of our senior pastor. Pastor Mike stopped and looked back at me.
"They're letting everybody in today!" He teased.
It's a joke I've heard many times over the last few years, but it still catches me off-guard every time. I chuckle but my first thought is always, "This is a church; we should be letting everybody in."
To be confronted with this joke at the communion table helped me remember that I am not worthy to even be let in the door much less invited to approach the table of grace or enjoy the sweet taste of forgiveness. This isn't a weekly ritual we do even when the lines turn into mobs... it's a beautiful gift purchased by the ultimate sacrifice.
Pastor Mike placed the wafer in my hand. "Body of our Lord," he said.
In my hands I clutched the tangible reminder of that gift, that forgiveness, that perfect love that I am not worthy of. The body of Christ given for me. The body of our Lord--Pastor Mike's and mine. We may not always agree yet share a common goal: to serve and honor Him. Along with Christians worldwide, we share hope, faith, and forgiveness through Christ. He's our Lord.
"It's good to see you," he said, smacking me playfully in the arm.
I was out of town for the entire month of October. He noticed. Thousands of members and he noticed my absence. Billions of people on earth yet when we haven't spent quality time with the Lord, He notices. Billions of people on earth and when we sit at His feet, He's glad to see us.
I ate the bread, drank the wine, and got lost on my way back to my seat. Both literally among the sea of people and pews but also figuratively in the beauty of that moment I shared with the Lord.
Thankful for grace,
<>< Katie
I stepped to the front, held my hands out for the wafer, and looked up into the face of our senior pastor. Pastor Mike stopped and looked back at me.
"They're letting everybody in today!" He teased.
It's a joke I've heard many times over the last few years, but it still catches me off-guard every time. I chuckle but my first thought is always, "This is a church; we should be letting everybody in."
To be confronted with this joke at the communion table helped me remember that I am not worthy to even be let in the door much less invited to approach the table of grace or enjoy the sweet taste of forgiveness. This isn't a weekly ritual we do even when the lines turn into mobs... it's a beautiful gift purchased by the ultimate sacrifice.
Pastor Mike placed the wafer in my hand. "Body of our Lord," he said.
In my hands I clutched the tangible reminder of that gift, that forgiveness, that perfect love that I am not worthy of. The body of Christ given for me. The body of our Lord--Pastor Mike's and mine. We may not always agree yet share a common goal: to serve and honor Him. Along with Christians worldwide, we share hope, faith, and forgiveness through Christ. He's our Lord.
"It's good to see you," he said, smacking me playfully in the arm.
I was out of town for the entire month of October. He noticed. Thousands of members and he noticed my absence. Billions of people on earth yet when we haven't spent quality time with the Lord, He notices. Billions of people on earth and when we sit at His feet, He's glad to see us.
I ate the bread, drank the wine, and got lost on my way back to my seat. Both literally among the sea of people and pews but also figuratively in the beauty of that moment I shared with the Lord.
Thankful for grace,
<>< Katie
Monday, June 21, 2010
Funerals and Weddings
My dad discovered my blog yesterday. More like, he came to pester me while I was proof reading and recognized his own scribble handwriting on the screen. Since then, he has been a bragging father sharing the url (which he still hasn't memorized) with his friends and colleagues. He also printed yesterday's blog and made Mom read aloud it to my grandparents and sisters. She almost made it all the way through, too. However, all of this means I have to behave for the next few days while his friends investigate this site. Sorry to disappoint but there will be no poop stories this week. :-)
By the way, today my parents are celebrating their 24th wedding anniversary!
<>< Katie
The other day, I was standing in the church atrium with my favorite funeral director, Mark. A wedding was about to take place, but we weren't there for the wedding. We were loitering by the door.
"You know," Mark said, "there really is no difference between weddings and funerals. I mean, there's a minister for both, and they're both an end. The only difference is that one you're rolled in and the other you meander in."
I was kind of stunned by the pessimism in this statement, especially coming from someone as upbeat and fun-loving as Mark. I feel the need to mention that he's happily married. We kind of joked about it and moved on to joke about something else.
Later, I was thinking about our conversation again, and I realized he's right. He failed to mention they both also involve crying and Mark greeting at the door. In all seriousness, they are both an end. But, at the same time, they are both a beginning. A wedding is the beginning of a life together. In the faith that Mark and I share, a funeral is the beginning of a new life, an eternal life.
It was only then that I realized Mark was not the first person to speak about weddings and funerals in the same way. Jesus Himself did it.
In John 14, Jesus says, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in Me. In My Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going."
Sounds to me like heaven-talk. Funeral words. Yes, but it's more. It's a cultural thing we miss, but His listeners would have been befuddled. This was wedding talk.
Max Lucado writes, "We Westerners might miss the wedding images, but you can bet your sweet chuppah that Jesus' listeners didn't. This was a groom-to-bride promise. Upon receiving the permission of both families, the groom returned to the home of his father and build a home for his bride. He 'prepared a place'" (Fearless 118).
Lucado goes on to explain that Jesus puts funerals and weddings on the same platform. They share the same hope. When walking down the aisle, the excitement felt by the pallbearers should be the same as that felt by the bride.
I have never planned a wedding. Neither have I a planned a funeral. I pray I get the participate in the former before the latter. However, if that is not the case, will I face them both with the same hope-filled anticipation?
Just some food for thought.
<>< Katie
By the way, today my parents are celebrating their 24th wedding anniversary!
<>< Katie
The other day, I was standing in the church atrium with my favorite funeral director, Mark. A wedding was about to take place, but we weren't there for the wedding. We were loitering by the door.
"You know," Mark said, "there really is no difference between weddings and funerals. I mean, there's a minister for both, and they're both an end. The only difference is that one you're rolled in and the other you meander in."
I was kind of stunned by the pessimism in this statement, especially coming from someone as upbeat and fun-loving as Mark. I feel the need to mention that he's happily married. We kind of joked about it and moved on to joke about something else.
Later, I was thinking about our conversation again, and I realized he's right. He failed to mention they both also involve crying and Mark greeting at the door. In all seriousness, they are both an end. But, at the same time, they are both a beginning. A wedding is the beginning of a life together. In the faith that Mark and I share, a funeral is the beginning of a new life, an eternal life.
It was only then that I realized Mark was not the first person to speak about weddings and funerals in the same way. Jesus Himself did it.
In John 14, Jesus says, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in Me. In My Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going."
Sounds to me like heaven-talk. Funeral words. Yes, but it's more. It's a cultural thing we miss, but His listeners would have been befuddled. This was wedding talk.
Max Lucado writes, "We Westerners might miss the wedding images, but you can bet your sweet chuppah that Jesus' listeners didn't. This was a groom-to-bride promise. Upon receiving the permission of both families, the groom returned to the home of his father and build a home for his bride. He 'prepared a place'" (Fearless 118).
Lucado goes on to explain that Jesus puts funerals and weddings on the same platform. They share the same hope. When walking down the aisle, the excitement felt by the pallbearers should be the same as that felt by the bride.
I have never planned a wedding. Neither have I a planned a funeral. I pray I get the participate in the former before the latter. However, if that is not the case, will I face them both with the same hope-filled anticipation?
Just some food for thought.
<>< Katie
Monday, January 4, 2010
Two Fish Named Earwax
This definitely was a "You had to be there" story and no one remembers exactly what "there" was, but I'm going to do my best to explain why my sister has two fish named Earwax.
Several years ago, my mom had a student we'll call Eric for one reason and one reason only: that is not his name. Eric had this fascination with earwax. One day, we were sitting at the kitchen table eating our after school snack while Mom was doing dishes and telling us about Eric's earwax obsession. She started a sentence, "He has these two fish..."
"Named Earwax?" I asked, finishing the sentence for her in the only logical manner possible. No one knows what the real end of her sentence because we were all ridiculing Eric's supposed two fish named Earwax.
Eric never had two fish named Earwax but the joke stuck. Even when our other pets earned themselves obscure names based on bodily discharges, "earwax" was reserved for the two fish we didn't have. Oscar became "Booger," Christina became "Rash," Cassie became "Turd," and our male cat named Misty became "Puke" ("Puke did his thing"). Our family was Rash, Booger, Turd, Puke, and two fish named Earwax.
The only problem is that we still didn't have any fish much less two of them with the same unique name. For years, this is where the joke stayed (well, except for my aunt and uncle naming their dog Fish and our new cat being nicknamed Cow... our poor animals!).
This Christmas, Christina received a fish tank. Of course, now we could finally have our two fish named Earwax! Even though she calls her three fish Mo, Curly, and Larry they will forever be Earwax, Earwax, and Fishy to me. Frankly, my names are better because it took Christina a week before she realized she'd named her fish after the Three Stooges.
When she got a fresh-water shark, she named him Bruce after the shark in Finding Nemo. Creative? I think not. I renamed him "Juice." I then learned he's a red-tailed shark, but he looks more like an orange-tailed shark, so he became "Orange Juice."
Today's new fish was a catfish cleverly named "Kitty." Growing up, my mom had a catfish named Flat Bush. She said for awhile she even forgot he was catfish; he was a flat bush in her eyes. Therefore every catfish will forever be named Flat Bush.
"Man, Katie, your family is weird," you say.
"If you only knew," I respond.
"UPGRADE!" Laura screams.
Be sure to check in every week to hear about the newest additions to our family. Christina can have up to 11 inches worth of fish but not all in one fish and they have to be added one a week.
<>< Katie
Several years ago, my mom had a student we'll call Eric for one reason and one reason only: that is not his name. Eric had this fascination with earwax. One day, we were sitting at the kitchen table eating our after school snack while Mom was doing dishes and telling us about Eric's earwax obsession. She started a sentence, "He has these two fish..."
"Named Earwax?" I asked, finishing the sentence for her in the only logical manner possible. No one knows what the real end of her sentence because we were all ridiculing Eric's supposed two fish named Earwax.
Eric never had two fish named Earwax but the joke stuck. Even when our other pets earned themselves obscure names based on bodily discharges, "earwax" was reserved for the two fish we didn't have. Oscar became "Booger," Christina became "Rash," Cassie became "Turd," and our male cat named Misty became "Puke" ("Puke did his thing"). Our family was Rash, Booger, Turd, Puke, and two fish named Earwax.
The only problem is that we still didn't have any fish much less two of them with the same unique name. For years, this is where the joke stayed (well, except for my aunt and uncle naming their dog Fish and our new cat being nicknamed Cow... our poor animals!).
This Christmas, Christina received a fish tank. Of course, now we could finally have our two fish named Earwax! Even though she calls her three fish Mo, Curly, and Larry they will forever be Earwax, Earwax, and Fishy to me. Frankly, my names are better because it took Christina a week before she realized she'd named her fish after the Three Stooges.
When she got a fresh-water shark, she named him Bruce after the shark in Finding Nemo. Creative? I think not. I renamed him "Juice." I then learned he's a red-tailed shark, but he looks more like an orange-tailed shark, so he became "Orange Juice."
Today's new fish was a catfish cleverly named "Kitty." Growing up, my mom had a catfish named Flat Bush. She said for awhile she even forgot he was catfish; he was a flat bush in her eyes. Therefore every catfish will forever be named Flat Bush.
"Man, Katie, your family is weird," you say.
"If you only knew," I respond.
"UPGRADE!" Laura screams.
Be sure to check in every week to hear about the newest additions to our family. Christina can have up to 11 inches worth of fish but not all in one fish and they have to be added one a week.
<>< Katie
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