A few weeks ago we skipped church. David had been out of town all weekend, and I'd been sick. Sunday morning I woke up still feeling lousy and announced that I was staying home. "Me too," came the supportive reply from my husband. The morning passed uneventfully until I downloaded one of my dad's sermons to listen to, as I do from time to time. Three minutes into it I was convinced that my dad must have wire-tapped our house when the family was out here visiting last summer. Either that or he's got some sort of fatherly sixth sense. His sermon topic? Corporate worship -- a.k.a. the importance of being at church. As if that wasn't enough, he told a funny story about two guys that skip church to go fishing. "Maybe we should have just gone to church," says one guy when they don't catch anything all morning. "Oh, I couldn't have gone to church," his friend replies. "My wife is sick." I listened to the sermon with a mix of amusement and disbelief. At some point -- maybe at the my-wife-is-sick part -- I heard an outburst of laughter coming from my supportive husband in the kitchen (who, of course, was fixing soup for his sick wife or some other caring activity). It's been a few weeks now, and we've been going to church. I've regained my health. David has been home on the weekends. And we're still searching the house for that wiretapping device.
1 comment:
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