Friday, March 5, 2010

Adventures of a PK

Maybe you know. Maybe you don't. Maybe you don't care. I'm a PK. A preacher's kid. Yeah, that explains a lot doesn't it! I realized the other day that I have only written one article about. Really, there is a lot that goes on behind the scenes. Some of it you absolutely don't want to know but I'm going to tell you anyway.

When I was a teenager, our family travelled once a week to a small church like place to sing. I say "church like" because I don't know if you could exactly call it a church. Well maybe. It was a place near my hometown that was solely set up for people that didn't have any other place to go. A place for people passing through town. A place for people that were scraping the bottom of the barrel of life. OK, it was definitely church. Anywho... once a week my parents and my sister and I went to this church to sing. I think it was Thursday night. What I do remember is that it was quite fascinating (read horrifying) to go each week to see what new person showed up. Where did these people drag up from? It was a rag tag bunch that attended. If you were staying as a "guest" in the house, you were required to go to the church service. That was the deal.

Every week I absolutely dreaded going. First of all, I couldn't sing yet my parents insisted on putting a microphone in front of my mouth. I mouthed the words. I also had the illustrious honor of playing the tambourine and working the overhead projector. Second, the men in that place gave me the creeps. It still gives me the shivers to think about it. They would stare at you with their mouth half open. Just stare. Third, it stank. Heaven help me it stank. The need for a basic class in hygiene was needed badly. Fourth, I was a teenager and everything embarrassed me. My parents embarrassed me. Being seen in this place embarrassed me. Being on stage embarrassed me. Thursday was an all-around embarrassment fest.

One bright spot was Pastor Roy. He was disabled, walked with crutches and braces, but he was the toughest guy I had ever met. He wasn't afraid to put his arm around and love the unlovable. I admired him for that. His oldest son was very cute, so that didn't hurt either. Eventually, we stopped going and singing every Thursday. I don't remember why but I'm sure I was relieved.

Lest you think this is a negative post, read on. Now that I have some years perspective on these events, I can see that it did have some positive effect on my life. People are not the situation they currently find themselves in. They can and do rise above their circumstances. Sometimes it just takes a little help from a friend. (sorry, that is a lot of cliches in one paragraph but it is all true) I also learned that the homeless man that wanders into the fast food restaurant and causes you to involuntarily gag as they pass, has a story. There is a reason they are in this place in their lives. Sometimes just having someone put a hand on their dirty army surplus jacket and ask if they have eaten today is all they need. It makes me think of this scripture:

Mathew 25:35-40 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ “The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’

Pastor Roy, great is your reward.

2 comments:

K.I.Th said...

I bless God for you sis! Such a wonderful write up. Did not have any Idea where it was going.

God bless!

Frazzled Mom said...

Thanks K.I. I rarely know where I'm going either. :)

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