A Sweet Week

The old song says, “Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before….” I won’t dispute the lyrics, but I must admit that this week has had some goofy twists and turns in that ever growing sweetness.

Sunday was the Super Bowl. I didn’t have a horse in the race, so I really didn’t care if the Giants or the Patriots won the game. (When you root, root, root for the Detroit Lions, you come to the conclusion that even if all the other horses die of the plague and yours in the only horse in the race, somehow your old grey mare will still find a way to mess it up.) I enjoyed the commercials, the half time show, and most of all, the snacks at the party I attended. Who cares about football? Pass the Crunch-N-Munch.

On Monday, I attended my first basketball game in Phog Allen Field House on the campus of the University of Kansas. (Well, the first since my being the pastor at Central. I attended one game in 1988 when the Jayhawks had a kid name Danny Manning playing for them. I wonder what ever happened to that team.) The Jayhawks squeaked out a victory over the Missouri Tigers (they won by 19 points), and I heard more Rock, Chalk Jayhawk chants in more ways than I thought possible. There were fast “Rock Chalks,” slow “Rock Chalks” and nearly cult-like and eerie “Rooooooock Chaaaaaaalks.” Hmmm… maybe “Rock Chalk Jayhawk” really means “Worship the Spaghetti Spaceship.” In any event, I had a wonderful time. Sorry MU fans.

Tuesday was both Fat Tuesday and Super Tuesday. I guess you could say it was a “Super Fat Tuesday.” But it wasn’t all that super or fat for me. Usually on this day in Michigan, we would eat pazckis (pronounced Punch-keys). The story is that the Polish immigrants that settled in the Great Lake State would take their extra lard and use it up before Lent by making pazckis, which are a type of jelly donut. I couldn’t find any pazckis in Kansas. (Maybe that was best. My new diet doesn’t allow for pazckis, cookies, or practically anything else that tastes good.) So I didn’t get fat on Tuesday, and the lack of an open Kansas primary is not very super in my opinion.

Wednesday was Ash Wednesday (make a note to attend the service next year if you were not here last night, it was really terrific!) and we also had at least two whole of inches of snow that “buried” the city and caused all the area schools to close. Two inches of snow closes the schools? Are you kidding me? Why in my day… (Oh my I was about to sound like my mom recalling days of waist high snow and sub zero temperatures in which she walked to school uphill, both home and back, as a girl). I think my son Ben’s “Snow Day School Ritual” of putting a spoon under his pillow and wearing his pajamas inside-out the night before must have worked because I have never heard of school being canned for two inches of snow. (By the way, I am not sure where Ben learned of this ritual and I do not know the significance of the inside-out jammies or the spoon. I am slightly worried that I have a closet witch doctor living in my house. ) We were then faced with the decision of what to do about our Ash Wednesday Service, I made the call that Ash Wednesday trumps two inches of snow twelve hours before the service. So in spite of our inclement weather policy that would have had us canceling the service, since the powers that be at the Shawnee Mission schools are “snow fraidy cats,” we had the service. As they say in Hollywood, “On with the show…” I am glad we did too. What a service!

Wednesday I also officiated at the funeral for Henry Langstaff. Henry was a great guy, who loved the Lord. He is walking on the streets of gold where presumably they don’t have two inches of snow and they never cancel worship services.

What is in store for the rest of the week, I can only guess—but I know this—God is in control, and as you grow in the Lord it is sweeter each and every day—whether you eat a paczki or not.