“Father, forgive me. I resorted to blackmail.”
We met with my sibling’s families for dinner. My brother from Virginia is here for a few days. He doesn’t come to Iowa often.
We ordered pizzas and caught up. He wasn’t here for Derek and Rachel’s wedding. Rachel had to work late. When she arrived, Derek walked across the restaurant to meet her.
Jon quipped, “That had better be his wife, he just kissed her.”
After he met her, we talked about their wedding. Someone mentioned my sister falling down while dancing the “Chicken Dance” at the reception. I just happened to have a video and passed it around.
There were several embarrassing stories shared with Jon. I sat at a side table and avoided the spotlight – until Derek brought up “the tree.”
Philippians 1:18, “So how am I to respond? …” The Message
(Jon bought my sisters, Mom, and I small evergreen trees at Christmas. My tree budded in February and we had 2 more months of winter! I tried moving it around, watering it more, and it still just got worse and worse.
When it warmed up, I moved it outside. Then I moved it to the front stoop for more light. Finally, in desperation, David repotted it into a larger pot. It only had one green branch left on it. At some point, David moved it to the backyard.)
Jon didn’t hear him.
I told Derek, “If you tell Jon about “the tree,” I will call in sick for the next two months of Sundays. And Rachel, (the other keyboard player), is in the nursery this week!”
I thought it worked.
Then a random relative asked, “Where is your tree?”
David wisely answered, “In the back yard.”
It’s deader than a doornail but it is in the back yard. Jon didn’t ask if it was alive!
(Jon doesn’t read my blog. Only my readers know the story about “the tree!”)
July 15, 2019: Philippians 1-2.
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