Archive for the ‘Death’ category
December 7, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. December 7, 2015
Norma Koch was a person of faith…perhaps courageous faith might be the better description. She believed in a Jesus that was not weak and, therefore, she was not to approach her walk with him in a weak way!
A couple of years ago the social worker at Audubon School, down the street from our church, called to say that there was a boy at the school who needed a new pair of shoes. The young lad had a pair of shoes that were literally held together with duct tape. The tape was wrapped around and around each of the shoes to keep them from falling apart. Our church bought him a new pair. A young kid’s feet were singing hallelujah!
That child’s need struck deep within Norma’s heart. The senior living complex she resided in would play Bingo once or twice a week and there were actually “cash winnings!” A quarter here, fifty cents there! Norma began collecting her winnings in a jar with a mission. The mission was to collect the change until there was enough to buy a new pair of shoes for the next child in need.
This past July she turned the money in, and it was deposited into out church’s benevolence fund until the need arose to use it.
And then Norma passed away! Ninety years old…ready to meet the Jesus she followed face-to-face, ready to be done with the aches and pains that had accompanied her for so long. She passed…and entered!
About six weeks after her passing Audubon School called again. A first grade girl was in dire need of a new pair of shoes. Norma’s shoes got bought. A little girl is now wearing “Dora the Explorer” shoes…all sparkly and new on her feet.
Though she is dancing in glory Norma Koch continues to have an impact in this life.
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Death, Faith, Jesus, love, Parenting, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: Audubon School, charity, compassion, Dora the Explorer. Ninety years old, giving, heartfelt mercy, helping others, needy, shoes
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November 30, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. November 30, 2015
I’m having more senior moments…like when I was looking for my keys and two minutes later I discovered I was holding them in my left hand…senior moments like that.
But I also enjoy senior moments. Or, put another way, moments shared with seniors. My congregation has some incredible senior folk who are a part of it. They are the most caring, unconditional love-based, surprising group that I’ve had the privilege to pastor. They genuinely support one another, offer to help with rides, call on the phone to someone who doesn’t show up at their group gatherings.
Four of them are now in their nineties, and, although the effects of age are slowing them down, they are people of incredible faith and depth. Yesterday, a cold and snowy Sunday, none of them were able to be at worship and there was something missing. Worship isn’t a choice for them. It’s a commitment, and when they can’t come it is almost always because they are sick, are afraid of falling on ice or the snow, in the hospital, or out of town.
Another of the senior couples delight me with their humor and giving spirit. I am always blessed to be in the same room with them. The wife’s laugh is contagious and joy-filled. the husband’s stories are filled with wit that result in chuckles.
A retired military man and his wife grace me with their friendship. Even though we are not necessarily on the same page politically they are two people who give to others in sacrificial ways. The wife has a heart of gold that causes her to become emotional as she talks about the ordeals that others are going through. The husband serves every Sunday in some way, whether it be transporting one of the seniors or ushering and greeting people.
There’s an African-American lady who is like my “Black Mom!” in fact, I call her “Mom” from time to time. She gives me “instruction”, just like my mom did, prays for me, gives me “the look” just like my mom did. Wisdom and exhortation from her guide me in my journey.
There’s a lady who was a baker. She kneaded the doe for bread and cinnamon rolls. Her love went into each of her baked goods. Now she “kneads” the pains and heartaches of others each day in her prayers. Like working the doe, she works the words of her prayer for the sorrows of others. Her foundations are prayer and scripture.
There’s another lady who is the group guardian. She sometimes senses the indecision of the group and says “Here’s what we’re going to do!” She senses when someone doesn’t want to impose on anyone else, and tells the the person that things will be taken care of. She’s the Joshua in a group of Jack and Jills.
Another lady, who is on the younger end of the seniors, has a gentle spirit, an attitude of grace, and the heart of a servant. A widow, she has encountered her share of sorrow, and knows the journey that many of our senior folk are on.
There’s another woman who moved here a few years ago from another state. She volunteers whenever there is a need…at the local school, for Wednesday night dinners, giving out food to those in need, making quilts and clothing. The last few months have been hard for her as her health has taken some hits. She does not have a high opinion of doctors, but has a very high opinion and love for the woman just mentioned before her.
A widower who has started coming to our group recently is my razor…and also someone I razz. We feel very comfortable giving soft jabs to one another. I had his wife’s funeral a few years ago. She was killed by a drunk driver. Pain and sorrow have punctuated his world, and this group of seniors keeps him anchored and cared for.
Another woman who is fairly new to the group makes the best cookies I’ve ever eaten. In her mid-eighties she has a smile that would like up a cereal box and a warmth that is accepting of others.
Another couple are like Aquila and Priscilla, serving in ways that do not make headlines, but needed. The man has become the best friend of another guy who has endured a life of disappointment and heartache. These two are people who are gifts from God, people who “come alongside” someone in need.
And then there is a transplanted Buckeye who is in the midst of jubilation this week for his college team’s victory over Michigan. He imparts his wisdom to me, and encouragement for decisions made and sermons preached. His emails are always in capital letters. In fact, if they were capitalized I would instantly know someone had pretended to be him.
So many blessings! So much enjoyment that has come into my life from folk who have traveled the journey of life.
As I enter my last month as their pastor I know…i know…I know that I have been greatly blessed!
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Humor, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: blessings, caring, elderly people, Encouragement, humor, Joshua, ninety year olds, Old age, senior adults, senior folk, Seniors, servant, serving, supporting, supportive, widow, widower, wisdom
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November 25, 2015
WORD FROM W.W. November 24, 2015
A long-time friend of mine who recently lost her sister to cancer wrote a post on her Facebook page that resonated with me. She said, “Because of all your sincere prayers on my behalf my anger (that is a bit extreme) at God is gone. I was disappointed the Lord did not heal my sister on this earth. I am choosing to run to Him, not from him.”
What is the direction of our run when we are in pain? It is easy to run from the God who didn’t answer our heartfelt prayer in the way we desired. Distance from God is a natural reaction to disappointment with God.
My own running has been punctuated by sprints away from God and slow crawls back to him. My running away in disappointment has sometimes been the result of God not going along with my desire for my enemy to suffer, or the absence of an angelic choir to sing about how my answer to a hotly debated problem is right.
Sometimes my running away comes from the unfairness of life, sometimes it happens because I don’t want to be fair with God.
My friend’s reference to running to him is using the lane with few footprints in it. David chose to run in this lane quite often, but, as we know, he also had his races of retreat.
What is the direction of our run? When the content of our prayers is dominated by the wants of our life we can expect that there will be a running from the Giver of grace. When our prayer is focused on our relationship with the Father running to him will often be our response.
If I am secure in my belief that what God wants for me is wholeness, not hurt, I will be slowly running to him.
We have a way of putting “what if’s” in our theological outcomes. Another friend of mine from years ago lost his daughter in an accident recently. I can not understand his grief, and, therefore, how he is journeying through the loss of life. Knowing the depth of his spiritual journey I’ve got a feeling it resembles someone swimming laps in a pool…the swimming away is followed closely by a swim to…and then a swim away!
My choice to run to God seems much less complicated than his.
This is Thanksgiving Week. A time to run to God and recognize that he is caring, concerned, loving, and kind. In a world with daily terrorist threats and warnings I’m choosing to be in the shadow of his wing…the cleft of the rock…rather than the isolation of my disappointment.
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: angry with God, David, Disappointment, disappointment with God, grief, loss, Prayer, Psalms, Running, running to God, spiritual journey
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November 22, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. November 22, 2015
Our youngest daughter…our baby!!!…Lizi moved with her husband, Mike, from Albuquerque to Colorado Springs this weekend. Carol and I psyched up our 61 year old bodies and helped them load up and unload the U-Haul truck. We were more than happy to do that! This morning we are feeling every box…every piece of furniture…every floor scrubbed…and toilet cleaned! (Okay! I didn’t clean the toilet, but I did use it!)
We helped them get it done…and now will gladly help pay for Two Men and A Truck to help them with their next move, whenever that is!
God gives us muscles to get things done, and sometimes he gives us older muscles to remind us there are certain things we should no longer do.
Today I’m feeling what is left of my biceps. I don’t remember this feeling when Carol and I were moving into our first home back in 1979, or when I moved all of my possessions into my seminary apartment all by myself.
Today my lower back reminds me of our closet door that squeaks every time you open or close it. The squeak sounds strangely like it is saying “Leave me alone!”
My feet feel like they’ve run a marathon! the best thing I can say about my neck pain is that it let’s me know it is still there.
My fingers hurt! My eyebrows ache!
I’m soaking in muscle ointment!
But that’s okay! You do things for family and friends that border on lunacy. I’d much rather move a couch than decorate a cake. I’m prefer moving china rather then going on a shopping trip to buy it.
Coincidentally Carol and I signed our wills Friday morning. In case I dropped the china as I was dropping dead we were legally clear as to what was to happen. Comforting thought!
Today is Sunday…a day of rest and Ben Gay! Two days from now I’ll return to the illusion that I’m twenty again!
Categories: children, Death, Humor, marriage, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: back pain, being 61, Ben Gay, making a move, moving, moving furniture, muscle ointment, muscles, Old age, sore muscles, Two Men and A Truck, U-Haul truck
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November 16, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. November 16, 2015
In recent weeks I’ve come to realize a few things about being the adult. Sometimes the younger ones we’re raising up, teaching, discipling, are teaching and mentoring you…the adult, the teacher, the pastor…perhaps more than you’re impacting them.
About a month ago, when I was in Chicago, I had dinner with a young lady who was in the youth group I directed more than thirty-five years ago. I still refer to Cyndi as a young lady even though she is now in her mid-fifties! When we met for dinner we had not seen each other for about ten years, but it was like we had seen each other the day before. A three hour conversation ensued. It was delightful to talk about the past, the present, and the future; to hear what God has done in her life and the lives of her family, to hear of a special mission project that her ninth grade son has initiated that has taken off.
And in the midst of it I realized that Cyndi, and her friends Laura, Sue, George, Wave, and others had raised me up as a youth minister. They showed grace to me when I was trying to figure out how to communicate scriptural truth to adolescents. They gave me the freedom to laugh at myself for my moments of cluelessness. They stood beside me in times of lacking confidence, and showed me that there are different ways of looking at a relationship with Jesus besides the Baptist mindset, the only view I had ever experienced.
And perhaps most amazing, and deeply moving, was to hear that Cyndi had become a follower of Christ at a Young Life Camp in Colorado I took a van load of students to the summer I was on staff at her church. For some reason I hadn’t been aware of that. And now 37 years later I was blessed to discover the rest of her story.
The students we mentor often becomes the students who mentor us.
Last week another of my former youth groups students, Deb Simpson Aldridge, went home to be with the Lord. She battled cancer, and cancer finally won, but her victory was assured even in the midst of death because of her faith in Christ. Deb was part of the first youth group I directed at First Baptist Church in Marseilles, Illinois. I had just graduated from Judson College in Elgin, Illinois, was going to start seminary that next fall, and was hired by the church to be the summer youth director. I had never had a youth position before…operated out of the experience of cluelessness! Deb and her sister Connie were two high school students in the youth group who accepted me right away. At my less-than-stellar bible study gatherings they would voice their thoughts and help me to keep going. There is nothing quite as disconcerting than to lead a group of students who sit there and look at you like you are speaking a foreign language. Deb would share something, or, in a loving sisterly way, tell Connie that what she just said was ridiculous.
Deb had a dry wit and humor that made our gatherings or road trips in the van experiences of laughter-laced fellowship. Anything I planned or suggested she would support. Think of it! A young guy right our of college with no experience could have been trampled to a ministry death by a youth group that saw him as an outsider to be neglected, but this youth group raised me up to proceed forward for a forty years of ministry. They could have killed me, but inside they mentored me.
Deb’s passing made me realize the effect she had on my life and my ministry.
Cyndi, Deb, Connie, Steve Landon, Shirl Streukens, Jon Daniels, the Epps Twins, Phil Girard, Jon Girard, Amy Anderson, Keri Anderson, John Chora, Brad Johnson, Tiffany Chora,Tony Lamouria…the list of student mentors for my life is long and deep.
A big part of how I see ministry…especially youth ministry…has been chiseled into my person by their hands.
And I am very, very blessed!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Humor, Jesus, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: adolescence, church van., Deb Simpson, disciple, Marseilles Illinois, mentor, mentoring, Young Life, Young Life Camp, youth director, youth groups, youth minister, youth ministry
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September 23, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. September 23, 2015
There is a young man on my middle school football team that jokes around with me everyday…and I mean everyday…at practice. We jab one another with teases and witty words. He really is a nice young man, and his main focus of kidding with me is my age. He comes at me from a “can you hear me” angle, from a “can you still run” poke, and, in recent days, my hair.
He’s right! In recent times my hair is getting more and more populated by gray. My scalp is starting to resemble a lawn trying to fight off the dandelions and crabgrass! The mirror that I stand in front of early in the morning has a deceptive light to it. I can’t really see the gray! Someone should market a mirror like that. It could be sold right next to the wrinkle cream!
Just as autumn is beginning to change the colors, the gray is coming to my highest personal point.
“How do I feel about that?” you ask.
I’m okay with it. It makes me realize that I haven’t taken a roadside rest from the journey of life. A friend of mine recently got his driver’s license renewed and they changed his hair color from brown to gray on the license. I’ve still got four years before that happens…since I just renewed about six months ago when the brown was still the dominant citizen of my head. (Although my license picture looks like I’m being booked for the county jail!)
Gray is okay! And I’m not going to try to avoid it. I’ve been fortunate. A few times I’ve had to show my license (Yes, the one where I look dazed and confused!) in order to get the senior citizen rate for a meal! It’s the other end of being “carded”, the one where you smile as you flip out the ID!
The more important question for me is how do I feel internally? How old do I feel in my spirit? How am I caring for my soul? What troubles me in the world, and in the church, is the amount of attention that gets paid to the outer shell and minimal reflection on my inner journey. When my spirit experiences the gray then I must step back and evaluate.
I’m recognizing periods of crankiness in my life. I’m usually not that way…ask my wife! When that “grump” appears it causes me to ponder what is going on. It’s a sign that I’m unsettled and usually means I need to get alone with God and have a little “Come to Jesus” session with him!
Scripture tells us that outer gray is a positive. Proverbs 16:31 says “Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained in the way of righteousness.”
So…although I am cognizant of when I’m having spiritually gray periods, I’ll take some comfort in the fact that I’m weaving a crown on my head. My wife, Carol, might spoil the moment and say that I’ve already got a crown…it’s that bare spot on top of my scalp that I can’t see in the mirror!
The cruelty of truth!
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Death, Humor, Jesus, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: Aging, aging process, Gray, gray hair, mature looking, Old age, Proverbs 16:31, self-care, the inner self, wrinkle cream
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September 6, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. September 6, 2015
There are certain events in life that leave us gasping for breath. Not “take your breath away”, but rather struggling to take the next breath.
In recent weeks I’ve had several people that I’ve known for years experience loss or sorrow that is so overwhelming that it is beyond words, and numbing to emotions.
When loss comes close to us we walk the valley of the shadow of death that seems to have no end. There is darkness ahead and memories behind.
Three of my former classmates at Judson College experienced this yesterday. One of them was my first roommate at the college; his first wife a good friend of mine; and her second husband my cross-country teammate and guy that I would “hang out with.” Their daughter and step-daughter was killed in a head-on car collision this weekend. What can you say to someone that experiences the tentacles of loss wrapped so tightly around their lives that their souls gasp in agony? There is nothing you can say to tell them it will be okay…because it won’t be okay!
When loss comes close it is a pain that keeps stabbing. Each Christmas it pricks the memories of the mind, the remembering of days gone by, the tragedy of a future forfeited.
Followers of Jesus are the worst at walking with someone who is grieving…and also the best. We sometimes convey trite spiritually-sounding words like “She’s in a better place!” and “All things work for good!” But we also are prone to “be with’ the grieving…just to be…to mourn with the mourners and walk silently with those who are hearing the loud aches of loss.
When loss comes close we come to know in a very intimate personal way the reality of David’s words “I cried out to God for help; I cried out to God to hear me. When i was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out untiring hands and my soul refused to be comforted. I remembered you, O God, and I groaned; i mused, and my spirit grew faint.” (Psalm 77:1-3, NIV)
Interestingly enough, yesterday we had a call from Colorado Springs Police Department. My wife carol could not get to the phone before the call ended, and the CSPD did not leave a message. She immediately called me and I called the police department to see what the call was about. As soon as Carol ended her call to me she went to her knees in prayer. Her thoughts were about one of our children and grandchildren. Had something happened? As I called the police department my hands were shaking. When I finally got someone on the line she told me it was concerning an elderly person who had gone missing from an eldercare place close to us.
But our thoughts were of the closeness of loss!
My friends are experiencing the closeness of loss that will change their lives forever…and I weep with them!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Death, Faith, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: dying, grief, grieving, heartache, loss, mourning, Psalm 77, sorrow, tragedy
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August 3, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. August 3, 2015
One of my seminary professors was Dr. David Augsburger, a great teacher and a Mennonite in the midst of our American Baptist seminary. That was 36 years ago and was my first brush with Mennonites. Dr. Augsburger dressed like us and was rumored to even drink wine, a reality that I was beginning to see was normal. In my growing up years I had only encountered wine on neon signs that said either “Wine and Liquor Store” or “Fine Dining and Wine.” My family didn’t go out to restaurants much, but when we did it was Big Boy and, without a doubt, there was no fine wine in the premises.
Over the years I’ve come to know a number of other people who are Mennonites and the men put their pants on the same way I do. I’ve even preached in the Mennonite church here in town three times when we do our pulpit exchange Sunday.
In recent times I’ve noticed hints of Mennonite beliefs in my belief system. The main one that seems to be getting stronger is pacifism. I’m not so pacifistic that I want our military downsized, but this week has made me think a lot about violence. In the newspaper today there were articles on a policeman killed in Memphis, a physician in Pennsylvania accused of killing another lion in Africa, a man charged with the beheading of his wife and pet dogs, an update on the Minnesota dentist who had killed a lion and the people who want him killed. There was also an article and action shot of two professional baseball teams in a brawl, and a listing of the various policies that the Ferguson, Missouri violence has caused.
In other words, how thin would my newspaper be if the articles on violence weren’t there?
I’m not putting a peace sign on my Civic, but it seems that the human condition and tendency is to push the violent key pretty quickly. Here in Colorado Springs a fourteen year old boy was gunned down by the 31 year old uncle whose nephew had accused the fourteen year old of taking his cell phone. Gunned down!
In Denver the James Holmes trial is winding down, the young man who killed twelve and wounded seventy at an Aurora, Colorado movie theater. Yesterday bombs exploded within thirty minutes of one another outside two separate Las Cruces, New Mexico churches. Las Cruces!
About six weeks ago nine people were killed in a Charleston, South Carolina church in the midst of a prayer service.
There just seems to be an unhealthy trend going on here! So I’m leaning towards the Mennonites. American Baptists have a strong history of non-violence also, but we’re not quite as committed across the denomination like our Mennonite friends.
Bottom line! There needs to be an immediate increase in the production of “chill pills.”
Peace out!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Death, Freedom, Grace, Jesus, Nation, Pastor, Prayer, Story
Tags: American Baptist, bench-clearing brawl, Charleston Church shooting, chill pill, Desmond Smith, James Holmes, Las Cruces church bombings, Memphis police killed, Mennonite beliefs, Mennonites, Minnesota dentist, shootings, violence
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July 26, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. July 26, 2015
This morning in worship I told the story of Legion from the Gospel of Mark. I was led to do two things this morning that I hoped the congregation caught. So often we tell the story from the view of outside eyes and distant ears. We minimize its relevance to our lives by speaking about it as if we are in the balcony.
So this morning I told the story and brought the congregation into it by referring to them as the people of Gerasena where the demon-possessed man was from. I came at it from the perspective of the congregation being the ones who drove off the man to the tombs. We went through the life stages. I admit that I envisioned the man’s childhood…the beginning signs of a troubled mind and spirit, the increasing tension in the city whenever he was around people, the heartbreak of his parents in knowing they couldn’t make him better. I led us through the story carefully, drawing in the emotions that we felt as Legion became more apparent.
The second thing I did was use the pronoun “we” instead of “you.” In fact, I only used “you” once and that was towards the end of the story in asking the worshipers “You remember, don’t you?”
I did not preach at, but rather included myself as one of the Gerasenes. I was simply the one who was re-telling the story about us.
I’m sure if I looked back through my old sermon manuscripts I would be embarrassed by the number of times I preached to “them”, heaping accusations and a John the Baptist call to repent! In my elderly state I’m acutely aware of my need for the grace of God in the midst of my blunders and shortcomings.
And so I preach more and more about us.
I don’t know if those who journeyed with me this morning noticed the different perspective of things. I was not driven from the sanctuary like the man was driven from the town. I noticed, however, that some of the usual slumbering saints had their eyes open throughout.
That in itself is somewhat of a miracle!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Jesus, Parenting, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: congregation, demons, Legion, Mark 5, Preaching, preaching the Word, Story, storytelling
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June 30, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. June 29, 2015
People say I’m not old, but I bet if I went to a swing dance party no one under fifty would be hoping I’d ask them for a dance. I’m married anyway, and I’m not sure what “swing dance” means. “Swing” is something my four year old granddaughter asks me to give her a push with.
So a lot of people humor me with sympathetic looks attached to words like, “Ohhh…you’re not old!”
Actually I’m two-thirds gone! And that’s if I live to 92!
So now I’m in the muttering stages of my life. I mutter to myself! I mutter questions to myself that don’t need to be answered.
Why can’t the newspaper delivery person hit the driveway with the morning toss? How can they hit the pile of snow that’s about three feet wide with the paper, but miss the thirty foot stretch of concrete? Of course, the yearly renewal notice comes in May…after I’ve forgotten about those frustrations!
Why do people pay fifty bucks to get dirty running a 5K race? Back in college we went out in front of the dorm and played football in the mud…for free! Why do people pay fifty dollars to get color thrown on them? I can lay down on the deck and have my grandchildren use me for a marking board…once again, for free!
Why does my bedtime seem to get earlier and earlier…and yet as soon as I lay my head on the pillow I’m wide awake?
Why do people in sporty cars with tinted windows think other cars are like orange cones on a race course? Strictly there to weave in and out of!
Why does my next door neighbor’s barbecuing smell so tantalizing, but I can’t seem to make any kind of meat smell good? Why doesn’t my next-door neighbor realize how unfair his cooking aromas are for the rest of us?
Why do people rush to get on a plane? If I’m sitting in 22A does it matter if I get on the plane in the first batch or the last? Speaking of planes, why can’t we have the little bags of pretzels again? Why do the airlines give coffee in 6 ounce cups but Coke in a 12 ounce can? What’s up with that?
Why are my toes so ugly? My feet look like they went through six hours of prep and make-up for a horror movie! It looks like I have painted toenails distributed unequally amongst my ten toes.
Why do my ears look like they have crabgrass growing out of them? Good Lord! I’m thinking about sprinkling them with Weed-B-Gone!
Why do dogs seem to think 11 p.m. and 6 a.m. are appropriate times to start barking? That causes me to mutter to myself while I’m still lying in bed…still trying to sleep! But, of course, that 6 a.m. bark alarm wakes up my bladder…and it ain’t going back to sleep!
Oh! And here’s one more that I’m still muttering about! I got one of those print-out coupons at King Soopers that said I could get a free…I say it again…free Starbucks “Refreshers” drink that comes in a can. So I went looking for my free can…and guess what? They don’t have it! The store employee who was very gracious and kind wasn’t even sure they carried it! Wait a minute! I have a coupon for a free one, but they don’t carry it!
Would that cause you to mutter to yourself?
Categories: Death, Humor, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: airline seating, barbecue smell, cynical, laughter, muttering, Old age, old men, pretzels, questions
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Words from WW Blog 