It's a Fine Life

My dear, sweet husband is an excellent Sunday School teacher.  He does not think he is, but in my opinion, he is the best.  And I am so blessed to get a good Sunday School lesson each week.  He dutifully researches, writes, edits---going back over and over his notes.  I was a little suprised Saturday afternoon to hear him print out a copy, and make noises about any good movies in town. 

I saw him make more changes, and half-listen during the Ranger game.  And make yet another copy which involves emailing it to my big desk top computer, and then getting up out of his chair and getting into this desk chair to direct the printer to copy out pages 14-19 for example. 

Sunday morning, he was still editing, and I was not suprised.  I am used to his habits.  Sometimes he reads aloud his latest edition...so I try and get bathed and ready as to be an attentive audience.  It does not hurt me to hear it a couple of times.  Some of the concepts are so deep, and so carefully/expertly worded, that I miss things the first few times through. 

Last weeks lesson had brought out such howls from the listeners, revealing their deep misunderstanding on the subject of subordination.   Jesus is equal with God, Jesus IS God, and even though HE chose to to subordinate Himself to the Father's plan, never was He inferior.  Never was He less than God.  He is God, always has been God, and when He took on man, becoming a little lower than the angels, He became a unique Being.  The God-Man.  Equal with God and able to be our perfect substitute on the Cross, which was His mission.  He modeled for us serving.  Serving does not imply inferior either.  To think otherwise is to adopt satan's thinking. 

This was a hard one for the class for some reason.  Many are successful salesmen who somehow thing they are superior to their own wives---wives absent even---giving fuel to their superiority thought of having even done "church" somehow better or more faithfully. 

But, getting back to Bob's prep.  Sunday morning, he asked me politely to step aside so he could print out one more copy.  the most correct/edited version of his lesson.  I opened the email window, which contained earlier versions of his lesson attached to previous emails, and stepped aside.  Bob had to shower and shave---and he saves Sunday morning to shave his whole head, so it was getting close to 9:15am and time to get in the car and drive the one mile to the church.   I did not touch his lesson, and when he came out ready to go, I handed him what the printer had spit out.  I was tempted to ask if he wanted to double check if this was the right one, as there have been a few times where we got to church and Bob would discover he had printed the wrong one.  and older version.  Upon discussion later, Bob said he would have answered, yes.  So, good thing I did not question.

I was already guilty of covering his keys on the dresser with folded laundry.  Having to use my keys to get to church was unsettling, as we now had the mystery of where Bob's keys were.  We got to church in plenty of time for Bob to look over his notes and discover that it was an "old" version.  He ran out the door, nearly knocking late-comers over, and drove home and reprinted the lesson.  I doubt any of us could spot the differences in the old and new versions.  But, it was important for Bob, and I know not to argue.  He seemed sweaty during the deliverance of the lesson, and yet hit the points I think he was wanting to get out there.  

I don't know how to make Sunday morning any smoother---how to keep the house calmer, or how to not distract him while he prepares.   But, I try.  It is like a quest.  To serve.  Encourage.  Stay out of the way.  Hope I do not become a Sunday School lesson example.  ha.   But, part of me enjoys the predictable spectacle that is Sunday morning.  It is a fine life.  Fine life. 

We went to big church after Bob's lesson, and endured some questionable songs, but good sermon.  A sermon on the fruit of the Spirit---kindness, in particular.   We need reminders to be kind.  It does not come naturally.   the Holy Spirit produces it in us.  And makes us look marvelous.  attractive.

We got in our car to go home, oblivious of the darkly shaded-window tinting in the little black car behind us---who then tried to go around us on either side before we recognized our youngest: BEN!  Suprised his Dad for Father's Day!  (just like he had done for Mother's day last month).  We enjoyed a quick lunch at Whataburger---their taco fajitas are so good.  Then he drove back to Austin.  Ben is moving back here next month.  yay.   Transferring with his company.   His pilonidal sinus --- another on in a little different spot, is acting up.  all infected.  He got it lanced in Austin and had to stay home from work for a week taking antibiotics.  He needs it surgically removed, and they recommended laser surgery to remove hair on his lower back that get infected.  Maybe we can help him with that, too.  Whatever it takes---he is so hairy, and the hair folicles get infected.  I wonder if he will want to go back to the surgeon he had last time. 

A wonderful Father's Day---good lesson, drama, excitement, got to see Ben, lunch, (did not have to cook) and a fun Ranger game after a nap!  What more could I ask?   These baseball games are long so that means two and three washrags knitted!

I don't know if other pastor's wives or Sunday School teachers wives experience it--but there is a battle raging on Sunday morning.  I am pulled to pray--for peace to reign because the unseen powers do not want these lessons taught.  I have requested we give up when relatives are here---grandbabies do not understand why GrandDad is hiding behind the computer laptop 24/7.