Sunday, February 21, 2016

That kind of morning...

I'm celebrating at St. James in Higganum for Lent and Easter. St. James has church at 9 a.m. (a very un-Anglican time, by the way!) and is at least a half-mile away. So I have to get up before 7, take the dog out, eat breakfast and leave.

This morning was that kind of morning so I didn't get up until 7:08 and the dog sniffed more than he did his business, so I didn't eat breakfast before I left.

Turning off I-691 onto I-91 N. an unmarked car (rather sporty car!) pulled me over with full lights and sound. The State Police Officer asked me where I was heading.

"Church", I told him, trying to score points.

It turns out that my registration expired in February of 2013--or was falsely cancelled (one of the problems the CT DMV has had)--and the officer could have impounded my car then and there but since my insurance was current and I was a church-going type, he let me drive away but told me, "you're in the system" (ominous that!) and needed to get this worked out asap. He also told me "it could happen to any of us. Don't beat yourself up...."

I worked the whole encounter into my sermon--talking about how 'each moment' holds the possibility of encountering God and finding grace. We need to 'live in the moment', as cliched as that sounds. I felt grace and I drove away, hungry and shook up, but still on my way to church.

Church and the class I'm leading on John's gospel were great!

Sometimes the 'moments' on that kind of morning can be grace-filled.

But just to prove it was 'that kind of morning', when I went to use the bathroom before coming home (something men of my age always do--pee before getting into a car!) I almost wet myself because I'd put my boxer shorts on backwards and there was no opening to be found!

The problem was, I buy all my clothes bigger than I need. I like 'loose things', even shoes. My feet are 10 at most but I buy 10 1/2 or sometimes, for boots and such, 11's. Same with boxer shorts, so I can't tell they're on backward.

The rest of the day has turned out better than this morning boded. (Is that how you spell the pass tense of 'bode'? My spell check didn't catch it but it looks funny to me.)

Hoping your tomorrow morning isn't 'one of those'....

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some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.