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Archive for Out to Pastor

Sep
05

I Think I Now Know How Noah Felt

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Rev. James Snyder, Out to Pastor bloggerrainbowLooking out the living room window the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage sighed very deeply and said, “When will this stinking rain stop?”

I chuckled to myself very carefully not to let it come up to the surface of my face to let on to anybody in the room.

She turned around and said to me, “I am just about done with all this rain.”

With a fake grimace on my face I said, “I don’t know, but I’m done with it too.”

I had to walk away at that point because I could not control the chuckles that were rising to the level of my face.

When I got some control of my emotions I thought to myself, this must be how Noah felt. Whenever it rains as it has been doing lately, I usually think of Noah. Only this time I was thinking of Noah’s wife.

Listening to my wife talk about the rain, I could not help but think maybe this is exactly what Noah’s wife was saying to him.

“Noah,” his wife said, “when will this stinking rain stop?” Then I can imagine her saying, “I can handle one day of rain or maybe two, but this is getting to be ridiculous.”

After all, Noah’s wife was just like anybody else’s wife especially the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage.

Knowing my wife like I do, I know she likes to be in control. From the moment she gets up in the morning until she goes to bed at night, she likes to be in control. When something is going on that she cannot control, then we have a different situation.

Could that be said of Noah’s wife? This rain was coming down day after day after day for 40 days and 40 nights. Nothing had ever happened like that before. I believe Noah’s wife was a little frustrated with the fact that she was not in control with the rain.

My wife gets up every morning with a large list of things she wants to accomplish during the day. I need to be careful because sometimes she has one of her “Honey-Do-Lists” for you know who. She is very productive in her day and she hardly sits down to rest. She is proactive all day long.

When she decides to do something, she does it no matter what.

Now, for the last several weeks it has been raining just about every day. She enjoys yard work and even mowing. Now with the rain, it has disrupted her schedule.

The fact that she cannot control the rain carries with it a little hidden giggle inside of me. She takes pride in planning her day and fulfilling her plan to the letter. She is in control of everything.

Everything, that is, except the rain. I know the rain is playing with her.

Several times, especially this past week, the morning started out bright and sunny with barely a cloud in the air. When my wife saw that, she was very excited. Read More→

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Aug
29

I Fell for It… Again

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Rev. James Snyder, Out to Pastor bloggerAn old saying more or less defines my life, “What we learn from history is that we don’t learn from history.”

When I was younger, I assumed that the older I got, the smarter I would become. I have not achieved that at this point in my life. It gets so tiresome to repeat the same mistakes over and over again.

I do hope though, that this will change somewhere along my life. I am hoping it changes before I die.

I was reminded of this flaw in my personality several weeks ago when the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and I spent a little bit of vacation time at St. Augustine. Someone had given us tickets for several nights in a bed and breakfast.

We spent the whole week just enjoying ourselves. I should correct that though. I spent the whole week reading and meditating with my eyes closed.

The other side of our relationship went to all the thrift stores in the area. She would leave right after breakfast, stop back for lunch, then spend the rest of the day until suppertime going from one thrift shop to another. How she can do this for days on end is beyond my wildest dream.

Several times, she asked if I wanted to go with her, but I declined this most gracious invitation. I remember the last time I took her up on that offer and we bounce from one thrift store to the next thrift store. They all started to look alike after a while.

It only takes me five minutes to thoroughly examine the thrift store, while my wife takes two hours to go through bit-by-bit every aspect of that thrift store. Every thrift store in the area knows her by name at this point.

I, the lazier part of the marital equation, chose to stay in our room and just relax. I am just as addicted to relaxation as my wife is addicted to thrift store shopping. I am not certain who suffers the worst addiction.

To be honest, she has gotten many wonderful deals at some of these thrift stores. Whenever we need anything, she knows exactly which thrift store to go to and she can barter them down to the very bottom. How they make any money on her shopping I do not know.

Every once in a while I suffer this awful nightmare. I wake up sweating and breathing really hard.

The nightmare is that we have opened up our own thrift store. No dream can get any worse than that!

I never tell her of these nightmares because I do not want to plant any ideas in her head. I lean strictly away from that idea.

In spite of all of this, I still have failed to learn anything from history.

My wife had spent most of the day visiting these thrift stores, and also buying things from these thrift stores, and had come home and we had a little bit of supper in our room. I assumed we were in for the evening.

I wish I would know when to keep my mouth shut. As we were finishing our casual supper, I said something that I now regret very much. I said, “Boy, it sure would be nice to have one of those lap desks so I could use my computer while I’m sitting here in the bed.”

I did not mean for this to be a point of discussion just a casual observation, that is all.

Then I took it a step further. “Have you ever seen any lap desks in the thrift stores that you visit?”

If there is anything I could ever take back in my life, this would have been one of them. I did not know how serious the subject was.

“I don’t know,” she said most enthusiastically, “but I’ll go and find out right…”

Before she could say the word “now,” she had gone out the door and shut it most soundly. The rest of the evening she was visiting thrift stores all over the place. I was afraid, very much afraid, that she would actually find one and bring it back.

I suppose they are to be found in thrift stores somewhere. But I just meant it as a passing bit of conversation.

Four hours later, she returned and was very much excited. She had found something she had been looking for, for a very long time. It was a very eloquent teapot with 6 cups and saucers to it.

“Look what I found,” she said most excitedly. “I’ve been looking for this and we can use it at our next lady’s tea.” According to her, this tea set matches the one she had back home. She was so excited about it. Read More→

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Aug
22

Enough Is Enough and I’ve Had Enough

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Rev. James Snyder, Out to Pastor bloggerI have had enough of some things. There are, however, some things I can never have enough. Apple fritters and coffee are things I can never have enough of. I would never use the word “enough” with these words.

Some things are in this category of “I’ve Had Enough.”

Recently, the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage said, “Your birthday is coming up. What do you want to do for your birthday?”

I looked at her like I have never looked at her before and said, “Enough, I’ve had enough of birthdays I don’t want another birthday.”

She looked at me, laughed like usual and said, “Silly boy, everybody has a birthday.”

In a way, I guess she is right, but I have had enough birthdays and I do not want another birthday.

I think birthday celebrations are rather silly when you get to be a certain age. Sure, when you are young and full of energy, you looked forward to birthday celebrations. You looked forward to all the birthday presents you are going to be getting. Nothing is more exciting than celebrating your birthday.

That certainly is one stage of life. However, that stagecoach has left the ranch. I have had enough birthdays.

One of the aggravating things about a birthday is that you have to disclose your age. You know when you say, for example, “I’m 60,” people will always respond by saying, “You don’t look 60.”

Everybody knows that is the code for saying, “You sure do look old.”

Or, somebody will say, “60 is the new 40.” I have no idea what that means, but I certainly do not want to live 40 again.

Mind you, I have nothing against birthday cakes and such. I have had enough birthday cakes throughout my life that I probably do not need anymore. If only I could get a birthday cake without all of the hullabaloo and the singing, “Happy birthday to you…”

But there is a main concern I have about my birthday. I have given this some rather deep thought and I have come to my ultimate conclusion.

That conclusion is, I really do not know when my birthday is.

That may sound silly, but I have good reasons to question the actual birth date. Unfortunately, I cannot remember anything about that day. I do have a vague memory of being hung upside down by my feet and somebody slapping my backside. That is all I remember.

I do not know the actual date and year.

My wife one time said to me, “Well, your parents told you what your birthday was. You should trust them.”

And that is the problem. It is a problem of trust. In the beginning years of my life, whenever it started, my parents had the habit of lying to me.

For instance. It took me years to discover that they had been lying to me about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. For many years, they assured me there was a real Santa Claus and a real Easter Bunny. Can you imagine the heartache I experienced when I discovered that they were not being truthful to me?

If they were not truthful to me about Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, how can I be sure they were truthful to me about my actual birth date?

Someone once pointed out that I had a birth certificate, but I do not know the validity of that birth certificate. I do not remember being present when that certificate was signed. How do I know it is not fake?

It took me a long time to realize that even the Tooth Fairy was not actually true. When they told me about the Tooth Fairy, I could hardly wait to yank a tooth out of my mouth and put it under my pillow.

Imagine the disappointment I felt when I discovered there was no such thing as a Tooth Fairy.

If I would take the time to investigate, I probably would find a lot more things my parents told me that turned out not to be true. So, when it comes to my birth date, how can I really believe that that is my actual birth date?

What, if I am not as old as my parents say I am?

So, with all the information I have not found, how can I celebrate my birthday again? I think I should just put it aside as I did Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. I should put it in the same category, laugh it off and say, “Ha, ha, ha, none of this is true.”

“What do you mean,” my wife queried, “you’re not going to celebrate your birthday anymore?”

I explained to her that I celebrated enough birthdays, birthday I’m not quite sure is my actual birthday, so I don’t need to celebrate anymore. Enough is certainly enough.

“What about my birthday?”

I simply looked at her and said, “We sure will be celebrating your birthday at least once a year.” She smiled and I let it at that.

Later that night I thought of some Scripture I had read in the morning. “The Lord our God spake unto us in Horeb, saying, Ye have dwelt long enough in this mount” (Deuteronomy 1:6). God was trying to get Israel to move on.

Like Israel, sometimes we can stay “long enough” at a certain place and then we need to move on.

The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 34472. He lives with the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, in Ocala, Florida. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail jamessnyder2@att.net. The church web site is www.whatafellowship.com.

SHORT VERSION = 550 WORDS

Enough Is Enough and I’ve Had Enough

Dr. James L. Snyder

Recently, the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage said, “Your birthday is coming up. What do you want to do for your birthday?”

I looked at her like I have never looked at her before and said, “Enough, I’ve had enough of birthdays I don’t want another birthday.”

She looked at me, laughed like usual and said, “Silly boy, everybody has a birthday.”

I think birthday celebrations are rather silly when you get to be a certain age.

That certainly is one stage of life. However, that stagecoach has left the ranch. I have had enough birthdays.

But there is a main concern I have about my birthday. I have given this some rather deep thought and I have come to my ultimate conclusion.

That conclusion is, I really do not know when my birthday is.

That may sound silly, but I have good reasons to question the actual birth date. Unfortunately, I cannot remember anything about that day. I do have a vague memory of being hung upside down by my feet and somebody slapping my backside. That is all I remember.

I do not know the actual date and year. Read More→

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Jun
27

The Parsonage Kitchen Shutdown Threat

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Rev. James Snyder, Out to Pastor bloggerkitchen timerA certain situation has been building in the Parsonage for the last several months. At first, I did not think it too serious but alas, we have reached a terrible impasse.

It started a few months ago when I came home, walked into the house and was hit in the face so hard I almost passed out. At the time, I was hoping I would pass out, but no such luck.

I think everybody knows what it is like to be hit unexpectedly by something you do not actually expect. I guess that is why it is called unexpectedly. It happened to me and I am not sure I am over it yet.

Even though I have been married 46 years, of which most of it has been happily, I did not see this one coming. Just when you think you have your spouse figured out, they do something off the radar. Every husband knows exactly what I am talking about.

This makes it hard to buy Christmas and birthday presents. What they liked last year is not what they like this year. I remember buying my wife a watch one year for Christmas of which she was so delighted that for the next four years after I bought her a watch for Christmas. How was I supposed to know she only wanted one watch!

I think we hit one of those impasses.

Walking into the house, I was hit with the horrific smell of broccoli cooking on the stove. I do not know if you ever smelt such a smell as that but if you are not prepared for it and even if you are prepared for it, it can smack you in the face like you have never been smacked in the face before.

When I came to myself and gathered what little composure I could find, I queried the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage who was in the kitchen.

“What is that awful smell?”

“I don’t know, have you taken a shower yet?”

After being married for 46 years, I know when to respond to a question and when not to. I knew if I responded to this question the way I wanted to respond to this question, the smell of broccoli would be the least of my worries at the time.

“No,” I said gathering a little bit of manliness about me, “Something in this house smells dreadful. I smelled it as soon as I walked in the door.”

Then she chuckled. I hate it when she chuckles.

“Oh, that must be the wonderful aroma of broccoli cooking on the stove. Isn’t it marvelous?”

Adhering to my rules about questions, I tossed that one aside and opted for another one.

“You’re not cooking broccoli for supper tonight, are you?”

I was hoping she would catch my attitude of disdain and disgust in this question. Obviously, for whatever reason, she did not catch the drift.

“Yes,” she said as chipper as I have ever heard her chip, “I thought I would surprise you with a wonderful dish of broccoli for supper tonight, to go along with our pork chops.”

Can you live with a person for so long and not know what they like or do not like? Nobody has to be around me for five minutes before they will understand that broccoli and I have had a feud that has been going on since before the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s.

“But I thought you knew I do not like broccoli?” Read More→

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Jun
20

Vacation Time Again?

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Rev. James Snyder, Out to Pastor bloggerI beach vacationhad just finished my project, sent it to my publisher, took a deep breath and said out loud, “I’m glad that’s done. Now I can rest for a while.”

I must have said it aloud for someone in the house heard it. I need to explain that with the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, it does not matter if you say it aloud, mumble it under your breath or just think it, she hears it.

I do not know how she does it and she will not give me her secret.

“So,” my wife said rather suspiciously, “ready to go on our vacation?”

I stuttered a little bit and said, “A what?”

That “V” word rarely resides between my two ears. I just never think of it. I am not a vacation fan. Sure, when the kids were home it was nice to get away and have some fun with them. However, that has been a long time ago. I think someone my age is just too old to go on vacation. What would be the purpose?

I am a little afraid that if I go on vacation, I might forget that I am on vacation and never return home and no one would ever see me again. You know how the memory is for us old guys. So, to be on the safe side, I do not think of vacation time.

“You know exactly what I mean,” my wife said rather sternly with one of her sly smiles. “We should begin making plans for our vacation before you begin your next project.”

She caught me off guard there. Under other circumstances, I might have responded by telling her that it was too late, I’ve already started my next project. I remember trying that once and I may be the writer, but she’s the reader and she always reads between the lines.

Then she began laying out her well thought out plans for what our vacation would be like.

I interrupted her and said as soberly as possible, “That would be nice, but I do not have any money to sponsor a vacation right now.”

All she did was laugh, which rather irritated me. Then she explained, “Don’t give that a thought. I have been saving for this vacation since last year. I have it all worked out.” Read More→

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Jun
14

A Merry Heart Doeth Good

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Rev. James Snyder, Out to Pastor bloggerWith all the sad news in our country recently, it is about time for some good news. However, the way things are going I am not going to hold my breath.

We just finished supper and the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and I was watching a little bit of television. We like to try to catch up on the news after a day of working.

I well remember the time when the “world news” was only broadcast for 30 minutes, which was broken up by commercials. It is hard to get all the news that is worth hearing together for 30 minutes. Back in “the day,” the commentators were able to do it. At least we did not hear about all the news of the day, which was a blessing.

It is a different story today. We hear news from around the world all day long. In fact, some television channels are devoted exclusively to news 24/7. The problem with that is 99.9% of the news is bad news. Good news does not have much of a place on television. We are too busy these days to listen to good news.

We had just settled down to catch up and some of the news and I was not paying too much attention. The way I am, I can watch the news and not hear anything they are saying. My wife, on the other side of the room, hears every word the news commentators are talking about.

We were relaxing, enjoying some coffee while watching the TV. I was drifting off into Whatever Land and just chilling. It was then that I heard from across the room some gasping.

“What is wrong with people?” And, “Don’t they know to do any better?” And, “What does all that violence solve?”

I looked over at my wife and saw her grimacing at the TV. Every once in a while she would shake her head and make some kind of a moaning sound.

I knew not to interrupt her Grimacing Moment and allowed her to have her space. After all, everybody needs a little bit of personal space.

“I can’t believe,” she said most disgustingly, “that he actually said that! What is wrong with that person?”

I did not need to tell her that we live in a very crazy world. A world that has lost all sense of sanity. Unless you are insane these days, you are not going to get along with anybody.

At this point in the evening, I certainly did not want to get into a discussion about how crazy our world was. I have ridden in this rodeo before and I am not ready for another ride.

My wife and I agree on many things and this is one of them. Anger, hatred and violence never solve anything. What we need today is a little more laughter. Read More→

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Jun
06

A Key On the Table Is Worth Many A Chuckle

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Rev. James Snyder, Out to Pastor bloggerSmile Post-itWhen it comes to forgetting anything, I am king of the hill. My forgetting has nothing to do with age because I have been forgetting as long as I can remember.

Of course, with age comes an excuse for forgetting something. Don’t let anybody know this, but sometimes I use my age to say I forgot something which in reality I had not forgotten. Sometimes forgetting something is the best expression of valor.

I can’t remember all the things I have forgotten, however, the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage remembers everything, even things I did not forget. Her memory is impeccable and I just have to live with it.

Often she will start a conversation with, “Do you remember…?”

Being married as long as I have, I always go with the affirmative nod, which I never forget to do.

When I was a young husband, I remember very distinctly correcting her about what I remembered about an incident she was talking about. I have remembered never to make that mistake again.

I am forgetting everything these days. It may be my keys. I get to the church office, check my pocket and realize I forgot my keys. Then I have to get on my cell phone (when I don’t forget that) and call my wife explaining that I forgot my keys.

Once we went for supper with some friends, I was to pick up the tab, and when the tab came, I had forgotten to bring my wallet. I am definitely not going to do that again.

Once I went on a trip and forgot where I was going. Fortunately, I had the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage with me who is an expert in telling me where to go.

I can’t tell you how many lectures she has given to Yours Truly in this area of forgetting. I think she should win some kind of a prize or a doctorate in this area. Maybe I should begin calling her, Dr. Never Forget.

I could not remember all of the things that I have forgotten. I could ask my wife, but that would take a day and a half for her to get them all on the table. Read More→

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May
30

What Would We Do without Rain?

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Rev. James Snyder, Out to Pastor bloggerrainbowSometimes I cannot help being a grouch. I guess it is what happens to a person when they get older. They get older, grouchier and grumpier. With that in mind, I guess I qualify for being an old geezer.

The past several weeks I was grouchy about the weather. What else is there to grouch about these days? I would grouch about politics, but it is a world of craziness. I suppose good people go to Washington, DC, but they don’t stay good for long. Therefore, I have given up grouching about politics and politicians and such.

One of the good things about grouching about the weather is it there is nothing you can do about the weather. You may not like the weather. You may want a different kind of weather. However, there is actually nothing you can do to change the weather on the outside.

Through the years, I have realized that if I wanted to bet on which day it was going to rain, it would be the day I wash my car. When I am out there washing my car, Mother Nature is looking down on me grinning one of her sarcastic grins, knowing that she is going to send rain my way that day.

I still like grouching about the weather. After all, you need to grouch about something and I would rather grouch about something that I had nothing at all to do with then something I could change.

The other day I started downtown and the sky was bright and sunny. Twenty minutes later, it was raining cats and dogs.

Three weeks ago at the church, we bought a brand-new lawnmower. We have not been able to use it yet so we do not know if it really works or not. The rain has come down for three weeks.

Thinking about the rain condition, we are in I often wonder about how Noah felt about the rain in his day. He built an ark and there was not a drop of rain to be found. He told everybody that it was going to rain; nobody had ever seen rain before and did not know what he was talking about.

For 100 years, Noah was building his ark and telling people that the rain was coming soon. They laughed at him and probably he was the first person called The Rainman. They were not laughing so much when the rain actually did come.

I was sitting in my easy chair, looking out the glass door, watching it rain and rain and rain. Just when I thought it was about over, there was a crackling thunder and the rain came down worse than before.

“When will this rain,” I said in a very disgusted attitude, “stop so I can go outside?”

My wife looked at me and said, “What do you want to go outside for?”

Well, she had me there. Because there is nothing for me to do outside and furthermore, I am not permitted to do any repair work on the outside by decree of the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. No matter how bad something is broken, five minutes with me and it will be worse than before. That is, according to her estimation.

Read More→

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May
22

Dealing with Tuesday, the Worst Day of the Week

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Rev. James Snyder, Out to Pastor bloggerThe worst day of the week for me is Monday. That means that I’m starting a new week and usually I have to start from scratch. All the things around me that annoy me, make me itchy and I have to scratch.

I cannot wait until the weekend gets here. It is the weekend where I can enjoy myself the most.

I know on Sunday, the best day of the week for me, I enjoy fellowshipping with other believers and preaching the word of God. I do not claim to be the best preacher in the world, I just love preaching. When Sunday comes around, I have an opportunity to preach.

The rest of the week, however, is really a drag.

It was Tuesday morning and I was a little down, drinking my coffee rather slowly and the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage looked at me and said quite sternly, “What’s wrong with you?”

It is a simple question and deserves a simple answer. From my point of view, it’s not really that simple.

Tuesday is not really Monday, which is a little better. However, Tuesday is not Wednesday either. Tuesday is a very slow day in my week and, do not quote me here, but I think there are at least 30 hours on Tuesday. At least 30. Probably more.

No matter what I do on Tuesday, it has nothing whatsoever to do with getting me to the weekend. Not only is this the slowest day of the week, but it is the least productive.

If I do not do very much on Monday, I can always blame the fact that it’s Monday and I am just getting started. Tuesday I can’t say that. Monday should prepare me for Tuesday and Tuesday should be the most productive day of my week. Either, I’m not using Monday as I should or, Tuesday is just a bad day for me.

I still did not know how to answer my wife. I was so gloomy that I really did not have any way to explain why I was so gloomy.

“Why,” my wife said, “Tuesday is my favorite day of the week.”

I just looked at her in my gloomy attire, grunted and couldn’t say anything to her.

“I can get more done on Tuesday than any day of the week,” she boasted.

I do admit she gets a lot done on Tuesday, but that has nothing whatsoever to do with me. She is the most talented multitasker I have ever known. She can handle up to a dozen projects simultaneously. Get her going, and she does not know how to stop.

If I had her talent, I could conquer the world. However, after all, it’s only Tuesday and I was a little gloomy.

On Monday, I can say I worked hard over the weekend and deserve to take a little bit of a rest. Nobody would worry about that not even my wife.

But Tuesday? There is no excuse I have ever made that justifies not doing something on a Tuesday, I know because I have tried everyone on my wife.

Tuesday is the dead point in my week. On Monday, for example, I can relax and just think about what I did over the weekend and how my sermon went.

I cannot do that on a Tuesday. The weekend is already over and the next weekend is far down the road. I can sit in my chair, sigh deeply and think about how soon the weekend will get here.

It could be that as you get older your brain does not function as much as it did when you were younger. I wonder if that is a good excuse?

“Oh,” I could say to my wife, “I’m getting older now and my brain doesn’t function as it once did. I got to slow down a little bit.” Read More→

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May
09

I Enjoy a Mess, Especially Mine

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Rev. James Snyder, Out to Pastor bloggerIt's My Mess and I Love It, by Dr. James SnyderThe Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and I were in a little bit of a tussle this past week.

Normally (whoever said I was normal) I stay away from such activity in our very humble domicile. Sometimes it is completely unavoidable. This was one of those times.

I was in the study area of our home doing some kind of work when my wife came in, looked around with both hands on her hips and said, “What is all of this mess about?”

At first, I didn’t quite understand what she was talking about. In fact, I usually don’t understand what she’s talking about first off. Experience has taught me that if I just nod in the affirmative and smile the problem will go away. This time it didn’t go away.

“I’m referring to,” she said rather sarcastically, “all of this mess in this room!”

The problem I was having at the time was her definition of “mess.” I have found throughout my married life that we differ on definitions.

It is true, we use the same words, but those words have different meanings to her then to me. My wife has the habit of finely defining her words to the letter. I, on the other hand, just generalize.

If you ask her how much money she had in her purse, she would say, “I have $21.19.”

If you asked me the same question (eliminate the purse) I would say, “I have around $20.”

She is precise whereas I don’t care about the exact numbers.

When she said, “All of this mess in the room,” it had a different meaning than what I understood it to mean.

If, for example, one book is slightly out of line with the rest of the books, the room is a mess.

I look at my room as “my room,” and I should be able to have it, as I wanted to be. If I want it to be messy, then I’m going to let it be messy. My idea of messy is having my things surrounding me. Nothing is more cozy than being surrounded by what my wife calls my “mess.”

Continuing her conversation, she said, “What are we going to do about this mess?”

When she said the word “we” I was confused. I knew I wasn’t going to do anything about what she called the mess in my room and I didn’t know if she had somebody that was going to help her do something about the mess in my room. She just looked at me as though she was expecting a response from me. I’m assuming a positive response.

Stuttering for a few moments as I was trying to collect my thoughts and when thoughts wander as much as mine do, it is very difficult to get them lined up in order. Read More→

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