Thursday, May 17, 2012

Chicken Soup for the Busy Soul: Dave's Deep Thoughts

 
Here's Pastor Dave McDowell's weekly devotional that he sends out to members of his church. Dave is my brother and serves as the Music Minister at Stewartstown UMC in PA.
 
Good things come to those who wait.
 
If that's true,
do bad things come to those who hurry?
Maybe so.
 
One day I was deeply embedded in my work in the office,
when my stomach reminded me
that I had worked through lunchtime.
 
When I glanced at the clock,
I also realized that I also had only twenty minutes
before my first music student came for lessons.
 
Knowing that I needed to get some nourishment
before I began teaching during the next four hours,
I went to the local grocery store
and purchased some soup to go.
 
As I reached my car,
I glanced up and saw a parishioner
who I had not seen in church for a long time.
I looked at the time on my watch,
and knew I had only a few moments.
 
I put the soup in the car
and went to greet my friend.
After a few minutes of animated conversation,
I ran back to the car
knowing that time was running out.
As I sat down,
I remembered two seconds too late
that I had placed the soup
on the bucket seat of my car.
 
Now I had never paid much attention in physics class,
but I think I do remember a lecture
about when a large force directly meets a weaker object in a collision.
The result is an explosive reaction.
 
This would be my rear side impacting
a styrofoam bowl of chicken noodle soup.
 
I lurched back upward,
as my friend drove off.
I waved and smiled as the hot soup
penetrated the layer of my pants.
 
I looked down,
and there in the bucket seat
was this large puddle of broth and noodles,
the steam still rising.
 
Knowing that I now needed to make
the 3 minute drive to my house to change pants,
I awkwardly lowered myself into the car.
 
Let me say that I learned
it takes some measure of strength
to start a car while
holding one's body in the air in a convex position.
 
As I began driving,
I also learned that one can develop a cramp in one's leg
as one drive's in such an elevated position.
 
As I tried to fend the cramp
from moving into a full blown contraction,
I decided that hitting the accelerator
might be a good option.
 
I was only a mile away from home
as I fought back the tears from the pain.
That would be the same mile where the state trooper
had decided to park and take a rest on this sun splashed day.
 
If there are three things that you don't want to experience simultaneously,
my guess is that they might be:
the sound of a police siren,
scalding hot soup on your buttocks,
and a cramp in your calf muscle.
 
He pulled me over within yards of my driveway.
As he came up to my door,
I would surmise that he was wondering why
I was in an arched position
resembling a gymnast on the high beam.
 
As he asked for my license and registration,
I implored him to first allow me to get out of the car.
At first he hesitated,
but I think the tears welling up in my eyes
from the pain of the cramp convinced him.
As I hobbled out of the car,
he observed my soup stained derriere,
and the puddle of chicken noodle soup still steaming off the seat.
 
There is that moment of silence
when one has no idea what the other person is going to say.
I tried to break the awkwardness of the silence,
but the gibberish that poured from my mouth
could not have made any sense to any human being.
 
As my foolish speech ceased,
he looked me in the eyes and asked,
"What, no crackers?"
 
There is another moment that occurs in one's life,
when one doesn't know whether to laugh or cry,
and one chooses instead to wipe the noodle off of one's buttocks.
 
He left me off with a warning
but to this day
I am not sure whether the warning was
about purchasing soup in styrofoam containers,
or talking to long lost parishioners,
or driving with scalding substances wafting in your bucket seat.
 
I am sure though, that in the local police barracks,
I became known by such nomenclature as cracker boy.
 
By now my student would be arriving for his lesson.
I ran into my house,
threw my trousers into the washing machine,
and went to find a new pair.
As I heard the water filling into the washer,
a thought came to me,
"Where's my wallet?"
 
There is another moment in one's life
when one realizes that one is
capable of performing multiple stupid acts within minutes of each other.
This is the moment of humbling awareness.
 
I returned to the office,
now with a water logged wallet,
and still with an empty stomach.
 
I find when I feel enslaved to a busy schedule
I do the stupidest things.
I say the stupidest things,
and think the stupidest thoughts.
 
Busy-ness does that.
It keeps us from focusing,
it distracts us,
it causes us to make bad decisions.
 
That's why we are told to
"be still and know that I am God."
 
It's only in the quieting of our souls
that we can hear the voice that keeps us on the right path.
May we take those moments to be quiet
so that we know who we are
in the noise of life.
 
There was a message on my voice mail.
My student had cancelled his lesson.
I had all the time in the world.
I just didn't realize it.
 
O Lord, my heart is not proud,
nor my eyes haughty;
Nor do I involve myself in great matters,
or in things too difficult for me.
 
Surely I have composed and quieted my soul;
Like a weaned child rests against its mother.
 
My soul is like a weaned child within me.
O Israel, hope in the Lord,
from this time forth and forever.
Psalm 131
 

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