Not Me Monday (First Attempt!)

Below is my first ever "Not Me Monday" post. This is a great idea from MckMama's Blog (http://www.mycharmingkids.net/) as suggested by my beautiful daughter, Jessica - Intense Blessings (http://jandjkeys.blogspot.com/ ). Enjoy!

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It could not have been me, weeping in front of the church. No way. Just because a tender hearted man came up during the invitation. He was thankful that his daughter who was in labor made it through the blizzard to the hospital, with 30 minutes to spare. Had I really cried, it would have been because I was thinking about Emmanuel.

Then again, there was no way that I could not find a clock to watch while I preached. Not me. No way that I would walk back to my seat while preaching to rifle through my things to find cell phone to act as a pocket watch. Not me, no. People would have laughed (and rightfully so).

It was not me, not at all, who got distracted at my nearly 5 month old grandson Emmanuel while trying to preach. No way that I had to re-start the sermon – such that everyone noticed. But where did that good humored laughter come from anyway. :).

There is no way that I am fretting over leadership changes at church. Just because I report to the leadership, why would I worry? Ha! The scripture is quite clear “…Do not Fret…” (Psalms 37:8) means it could not have been me, no, not at all, fretting over something over which I have no control. I must have been trusting in God instead.

And what would an old guy like me be doing taking a small baby to the doctor? It was not me who proudly carried in a small baby, along with my bride of 31 years into the waiting room. Why would I dare people with my gaze – to ask – go ahead and ask – who is this beautiful precious baby? Would I really go to all his doctor visits, with or without his mom, just because he is my grandson? No way!

Right there off Main Street, it was not me at all that got stuck in the snow. How could a seasoned snow veteran try to run over a drift, when the visibility was only ½ block? Not me, no – who then had to have my 20 year old son Jonathan push the van. Um-um.

It simply was not me who had to put our 12 year old Chihuahua, Sami, to sleep. Not me. Not me trying to steer the car through watery eyes, on his last ride to the vet. Not me who could barely walk in the front door, carrying the much-loved old dog. No way that I could not look anyone in the eye and had to leave the room quickly, lest anyone see how upset I was. I would never do that.