A call for perspective

So, I forgot her. Left her right there at the church.

Now, in my defense, she usually takes her own vehicle, but the truth is, I fogot her. Left her right there at the church.

And when she called, "Did you forgoet me?," my firt thought wasn't, "Oh, my, what have I done," but rather, who is calling me during the game.

Some perspective: The Saints, as of this writing are 10-0. That's 10 wins and zero losses. That's 10 wins and a lifetime of hurt, pain, discomfort, unhappiness and general weirdly half-glass filled living. We are, er, the Saint are unbeaten as of this writing, though all of the area covered in black and gold is waiting for the next shoe (the next problem) to emerge that will stop us, er, them in our, er, their tracks.

The games often being at noon. Church services, of which I have to take part seeing as I'm the pastor an all, end at noon. Though I have two, count 'em, two DVRs, still I rush home to start the tape as quickly as I can, somehow reasoning that if I get to the shirt I've won every Sunday during this streak I can somehow change things to the good.

That's the thing that's going on in this area, as of this writing. People have lost, well, lost their minds. Those people have. They meet the Saints at the airport, clogging roads and such. Don't even mention what you can get for your tickets should you decide to sell them. The area, as I've mentioned, is covered in black and gold and we, er, they are buying up shirts and hats and key rings and pet shirts and you pretty much can name your own favorite memorabilia right here.

So as I gave the benediction, no, let's say it right, after I gave the benediction, I carefully blew out the candles, I carefully locked up and shut off the lights, I checked to see that someone was properly counting the offering and I set off toward the 10th victory in a row.

And I forgot her. Left her at the church.

My wife, I mean.

Now, so far this season, she has watched the game from the bedroom, because she happened to be in there when the Saints scored a touchdown. She has watched, er, listened from the porch because she was out there when the comeback against Miami began (I wouldn't let her come in even though she needed to use the facilities, if you know what I mean). She watched Sunday from the kitchen, after she caught a ride home. She has been put upon and she understands, though she doesn't let me forget it.

Still, till Sunday I had never forgot her.

The Bible doens't say much about this insanity that has overtaken me, er, them. It does talk about perspective rather often, though.

It talks about first loves and remaining tru. It talks about maintaining our love for Christ above all other things. It even talks about being faithful to Him and Him alone. Above all else, it talks about idolatry, and the love of the Saints could, could mind you, flow into that area.

For now, though, we have to hope He understands. After all, the Bible does talk about the saints who have gone before us, too.

I have a feeling, that for the downtrodden everywhere, there's cheering in heaven. I sure hope, because my knuckles are hurting from having knocked on wood so often......