If Hell’s Like This, I’m Going To Heaven

One hour. That’s the length of time it took for 4 sandwiches to be made. After church this morning we went to a favorite establishment called Bear Rock Café. The ambiance is great with a toasty fireplace to sit around which came in handy because it snowed all day on May 1st. I did pretty well until somewhere around the 45 minute mark when I began the patented “Don Phillips thumb twiddle and pacing routine.” Long story short…they were shorthanded and no one had any idea how to make the signature Jerk Chicken sandwich, or any sandwich other than peanut, butter and jelly. They completely invented a new sandwich, but it took them an hour to do so. Oh, and by the way, after an hour, they forgot the bag of chips to go on the boys’ peanut butter and jelly sandwich. When asked, the guy threw them at me hitting me in the chest and falling to the ground. Jesus loves him, but I didn’t.

The family loaded up in the car and began our journey home. Nate decided that this would be a perfect time to poop in his pants. There was no good place to change him, so we kept driving (with the windows down and snow blowing in) toward home. The smell was overwhelming…apparently the P, B and J didn’t sit well with my little buddy.

We drove by Focus on the Family on the way home to see the circus. A gay rights organization called “Soul Force” was picketing the fact that we believe in family as defined by God. They were about 5,000 strong and extremely proud to be gay. On the other side of the street, and more distasteful were the good folks from “God Hates Fags.com.” Oh dear. This is the church from Kansas that displays the love of God by telling those who they oppose that “Fags rot in Hell.” I’m not sure if it was the smell of defecation within the Pampers, or the fact that I was feeling physically ill from such hatred, but I began to have a full-blown aneurysm headache. I just wanted to get home and sleep it off.

All I had to do was go down Roller Coaster Road, which by the way is aptly named, up and down multiple hills before I was to turn on to my street. Up and down, up and down, up and I’ll be jiggered if there’s not a cop sitting there in his little Sheriff’s car. “Oh Lord, I’ll do anything…not today.” Let the deal making begin! God wasn’t amused with the deal making…as if He was the one pressing the accelerator all the way down to the floorboard. The lawman’s lights turned on and he quickly u-turned, now in hot pursuit. I may have thought of a word silently that resembled what was in Nate’s diaper.

I began quickly explaining to the boys how much we love Policemen, and how much they mean to us….blah, blah, blah. My 6 year old, Gabe asked if we’re getting a ticket. “Yes.” “Great,” said my 4 year old, Luke. “That means we can take your ticket to Chuck E. Cheese and get more prizes.” I shared this with the officer at the window thinking the levity just might get me out of the citations…one for doing 56 in a 35, and one for not registering my Sequoia in Colorado within 30 days. He was not amused by Luke’s whimsical comment. As we waited for the citation to be written Gabe, decides to lay into me about speeding. “Dad, didn’t you know that you were speeding? Speeding is breaking the law. Why didn’t you just go the speed limit…etc?”

The poop smell, Nate crying from the prolonged discomfort, the interrogation from Gabe, Luke wanting the ticket to redeem to Chuck E. Cheese…Calgon take me away.

I found relief for 1 ½ hours as I slept off the depression.

I woke up and decided that I was going to finish the day strong with my family. We warmed up some leftovers for dinner and sat down just long enough for Luke to spill an entire glass of milk on our dog’s head. Tyson didn’t budge. My fawn boxer turned white instantly…Borden’s milk dripping from his ears and eyelashes. I had to laugh. Could it get worse? Yes.

We thought packing for our big trip to Texas would bring some sorely needed excitement. The boys are ready to see family and friends. Suzi went to the basement to get her “summer clothes” box and begin her packing. After 2 hours of searching in the basement, we have determined that the box didn’t make it. Every bit of her summer everything is in that box. Shirts, shorts, sandals, tank tops and flip flops are gone. We have no idea where it could be…perhaps at one of the other 3 houses that were unloaded off of the 18-wheeler before ours. By the way, our 90 day period for making claims for lost items with United Van Lines just expired. How much does it cost to replace a summer wardrobe?

Did I mention that Friday I found out there may a chance that these medical expenses could be out of pocket due to possible lapse of medical coverage over the past year? Add that to your prayer list, but we are believing all will be taken of.

If today was anything like Hell, I don’t want to go.

Corrie ten Boom has a great quote about days like today. It says, “Worry doesn’t empty tomorrow of its sorrow, but today of its strength.” I like that. My strength was stolen today. My children suffered today from a lack of patience from their dad. I felt like my credentials to the “fatherhood hall of fame” could possibly be revoked…but probably will not be.

Tomorrow the sun rises again. God’s faithfulness is once again revealed. The mountains will cry out His name and remind me of His goodness. I thank God for fresh starts each day. No matter how horrible my day was today, the Lord forgives me of my shortcomings and impatience. I love grace. I live because of grace. I smile because of this gift. I pray for Anonymous and all other Non-Christ Followers (NCF’s) who have days like this, but don’t understand the goodness of forgiveness.

Today, I start the day with fresh nostrils.