I budgeted time this afternoon to write out at least a general outline for our small group Bible study later this week. That's what I'm "supposed" to be working on now.
It's advance planning on my part because tomorrow we're "supposed" to have our photo taken for the church directory - assuming Amy is satisfied that her make-up magic will hide her amazing "shiner" which changes colors, and locations almost hourly.
Someone I think asked Thao (our current upper room ministry house-guest) at a church gathering we sort of forced her to go to Sunday - I had to get there early and Amy wasn't on my schedule so she woke up Thao and begged for a ride with the offer of "there's food!" - if I ever "hit" Amy...lovely.
Blessedly Thao has come to know us well enough to laugh at that suggestion...I think.
I swear I'm going to get an affidavit made up and have Amy take it to like 40 people she's fallen down in front of - if I can narrow down that list to 40 - and have them sign it attesting to the fact my poor wife bruises easily, falls down too often, and I don't hit her.
In truth, I don't think I've actually hit anybody since sixth grade when I bravely challenged a kid named Jimmy Mercante to a "fight" after school. He was the smallest kid in our class. I don't remember what prompted our "dispute" but I do remember thinking, "How tough could this be? Jimmy is like 3 feet tall?"
Plus, I'd been beaten on by the best...I'm the youngest of three brothers.
I towered over Jimmy.
I learned a quick lesson that day...size doesn't matter.
Oh, settle down. I mean as an indicator of your boxing abilities.
I learned this fact later but I'm telling you ahead of time, Jimmy's dad was named Arthur Mercante. If you were a boxing fan in premiere days of boxing...before Don King and pay-per-view. When a guy named Muhammed Ali, or really even when he was known as Cassius Clay was amazing the nation and the world, the name Arthur Mercante may still ring a bell.
It rung my bell I'll tell you that.
At that time, Arthur Mercante was perhaps the most respected boxing referee in the nation. Today he's a legend.
Oh yeah...you know how this fight ended, all you need to know is how long it lasted.
My one and only fist fight lasted about 6 seconds, and I think Jimmy landed about 40 punches during that time. He'd been around boxing rings since he was born.
Come to think of it, I don't recall ever actually hitting him.
Honestly, I may never have hit anyone in my life.
Jimmy and I became friends within minutes...once my bleeding stopped.
It was a good lesson. I learned new defense mechanisms real fast...like making jokes...and how to run.
I never challenged anyone to fight again.
So anyway, I am "supposed" to be planning a Bible study right about now, but I stopped.
Amy was out most of the afternoon and came home a little while ago. I think I'd rather sit on the porch with her and spend a little time making sure she knows I love her. I know she knows that but I don't think she always realizes that when I see her in pain...or even with a bruise...I feel the pain too...perhaps more than she does.
I don't "suppose" she'll complain if I put off the Bible study prep for a while.
Besides, if I have to, I've already got a story I can pull out at the last minute for the Bible study.
It's about when I was in sixth grade.
It's only about six seconds long, but I think I can flesh it out.
After all, I'm supposed to be leading our group in a study of David.
I think I'll start out the study like this...
Once upon a time, I thought I was Goliath...