Tuesday, December 18, 2018

Dueling Theologians

 

It could have been Wimbledon finals – the verbal ball whacked from one end of the court to the other.

Joe’s question.

Cris’ answer. Or at least attempt to answer, followed by Joe’s:

Parent! Or,

Librarian! Then,

Librarian!, again, then back to:

Parent!

Between Sam’s and my scrape-thump-scape-ing, and Joe’s ra-ta-ta’s to Cris’ apologetics, we sounded almost like a Broadway musical. Before I knew it my trunk was filled up with Publix plastic bags, now bulging with dark soil ready to receive some good seeds.  I rinsed out my hands and drank water, then walked back to the dueling theologians to bid my good bye.  

I noticed that Sam had stopped shoveling even though the bed of their truck was only half-full. He reappeared from around the pile, his arm stretched out towards me, holding an ice-cold bottle of water.

Sometimes it’s the smallest simplest actions of thoughtful kindness that bring us to our knees.

It was pleasure meeting you gentlemen, I choke a bit, and Cris, in his burly, warmhearted way, walks up to me and gives me a bear hug, which he punctuates, just in case there is any doubt of impropriety, with an energetic, 

The Lord BLESS you!!!

I receive the blessing and give one back in kind.

Joe watches our exchange of blessing with curiosity. He knows I’ve been a silent witness to their entire duel.  That fact may come as a bit of a shock to him since we Christians are better known for our ability to talk than our ability to listen.  I extend my hand to him and he takes it. I must be one enigma after another.

But, before I leave he feels compelled to add one more thing to our compost pile group date. 

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