Opposed To Supposed
I budgeted time this afternoon to write out at least a general outline for our small group Bible study later this week. That's what I'm "supposed" to be working on now.
It's advance planning on my part because tomorrow we're "supposed" to have our photo taken for the church directory - assuming Amy is satisfied that her make-up magic will hide her amazing "shiner" which changes colors, and locations almost hourly.
Someone I think asked Thao (our current upper room ministry house-guest) at a church gathering we sort of forced her to go to Sunday - I had to get there early and Amy wasn't on my schedule so she woke up Thao and begged for a ride with the offer of "there's food!" - if I ever "hit" Amy...lovely.
Blessedly Thao has come to know us well enough to laugh at that suggestion...I think.
I swear I'm going to get an affidavit made up and have Amy take it to like 40 people she's fallen down in front of - if I can narrow down that list to 40 - and have them sign it attesting to the fact my poor wife bruises easily, falls down too often, and I don't hit her.
In truth, I don't think I've actually hit anybody since sixth grade when I bravely challenged a kid named Jimmy Mercante to a "fight" after school. He was the smallest kid in our class. I don't remember what prompted our "dispute" but I do remember thinking, "How tough could this be? Jimmy is like 3 feet tall?"
Plus, I'd been beaten on by the best...I'm the youngest of three brothers.
I towered over Jimmy.
I learned a quick lesson that day...size doesn't matter.
Oh, settle down. I mean as an indicator of your boxing abilities.
I learned this fact later but I'm telling you ahead of time, Jimmy's dad was named Arthur Mercante. If you were a boxing fan in premiere days of boxing...before Don King and pay-per-view. When a guy named Muhammed Ali, or really even when he was known as Cassius Clay was amazing the nation and the world, the name Arthur Mercante may still ring a bell.
It rung my bell I'll tell you that.
At that time, Arthur Mercante was perhaps the most respected boxing referee in the nation. Today he's a legend.
Oh yeah...you know how this fight ended, all you need to know is how long it lasted.
My one and only fist fight lasted about 6 seconds, and I think Jimmy landed about 40 punches during that time. He'd been around boxing rings since he was born.
Come to think of it, I don't recall ever actually hitting him.
Honestly, I may never have hit anyone in my life.
Jimmy and I became friends within minutes...once my bleeding stopped.
It was a good lesson. I learned new defense mechanisms real fast...like making jokes...and how to run.
I never challenged anyone to fight again.
So anyway, I am "supposed" to be planning a Bible study right about now, but I stopped.
Amy was out most of the afternoon and came home a little while ago. I think I'd rather sit on the porch with her and spend a little time making sure she knows I love her. I know she knows that but I don't think she always realizes that when I see her in pain...or even with a bruise...I feel the pain too...perhaps more than she does.
I don't "suppose" she'll complain if I put off the Bible study prep for a while.
Besides, if I have to, I've already got a story I can pull out at the last minute for the Bible study.
It's about when I was in sixth grade.
It's only about six seconds long, but I think I can flesh it out.
After all, I'm supposed to be leading our group in a study of David.
I think I'll start out the study like this...
Once upon a time, I thought I was Goliath...
posted by Michael
©The Main Point by Michael Main
4 Comments
4 Comments:
Still reading, Michael, and enjoyed the account of your childhood "fight". Sounds like a few I suffered somewhere back there before learning there are no rules in a backyard brawl...
I, Amy Maria DeLong-Judkins-Main, do hereby, henceforth, and every other -by/-forth/-with word there is, being of sound mind (don't start) and quasi-sound body, do solemnly swear that Michael Douglas Not-Ali/Not-Foreman/Not-Tyson/Not-Goliath Main has never laid a hand on me in an unkind, hurtful, harmful, or destructive manner. Ok, except when he was dragging me out of the Budget Host [fakesneezeCROOKS!] Inn -- but that was for my own protection... and I was digging in my heels :-)
I am married to the kindest, gentlest, and most loving man on the planet. His touch is one probably the only one I trust (except for the hug or touch of a family member or a brother/sister in Christ).
I am grateful and thankful for the Lord's provision of a less-than-Goliath-type husband. However, let me clarify that with this statement...
If anything, be it a person, place, or thing, comes between me and my well being, he will become Goliath in every and any way possible.
"Once I thought I was Goliath..."
Michael, after the Lord, you are my ever-present help in time of trouble. You are my shelter in a time of storm. You are the anchor that holds us steady, "though the angry surges roll." You are my one true thing.
Love,
me.
Anyone who would like to sign their name to Amy's comment is welcome. I'll pay to get it notarized :)
-M
((((((((((Amy & Michael))))))))))))
Just droppin' by to leave this hug :)
Cindy
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