The Many Funny Faces of the Season

Dr. James L. Snyder
I do not often get under the weather; after all, as tall as I am my head is usually in the clouds. At least, the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage thinks this is the case. And who is to argue with her. But this time I was under the weather.
 
My head was stuffed and every other breath I took I had a sneezing fit. I felt miserable. I looked miserable. I know this because my wife said, “You look miserable.” And, I was miserable.
 
Being in such a delicate condition, I had completely forgotten what time of the year it was. In fact, I did not even know what time of the day it was.
 
I vaguely remember my wife saying something to the effect that she was going somewhere and to be ready for something or other. In my condition, I could not have cared less. She could have taken a trip to the moon and I would not have cared. All I wanted was to be left alone to wallow in my ocean of misery.
 
I was dressed in my old raggedy bathrobe, a sort of comfort piece of clothing when I am not feeling well. I have had it for 197 years and it looks like it. When I am sick is the one piece of clothing that I can wrap around myself and feel some semblance of comfort.
 
Taking refuge in my easy chair, I pampered myself with a nice hot cup of tea with honey. I had a slight fever and my head was thumping like a marching band at a football game. Trying to ease my pain, I wrap my head in a wet towel. My eyes were bulging and watery as if I had just swallowed a hot spicy Mexican taco in one gulp. To monitor my temperature I sucked a thermometer. I must have looked a sight, but I was not anticipating being a contestant at a beauty pageant.
 
The only thing I was anticipating was a quiet evening where I could recuperate from whatever deadly disease I had contracted. At least, I wanted the last few hours of my life to be in some semblance of peace because I knew I would not last the evening.
 
The only thing that brought comfort to me at the time was that my death would probably be painless. I hate pain. It would be a terrible thing to die a painful death. But in my delicate condition, any death would be a welcomed friend.
 
Just as I was about to embrace my old friend, I was aroused by a terrible explosion. It seemed like the noise rocked the very foundation of the house. The noise shook me completely to a point of semi-consciousness.
 
Just as I opened my bleary eyes, there was another explosion, this time louder than before. My thoughts lead me to believe some terrorist was attacking my house with the ferocity of a nuclear bomb.
 
Should I or should I not go to the door to see what all the clamor was about? I was in no condition to make any rational decision so I went to the front door to check on the noise.
 
It took several moments for me to extract myself from my chair and stand up. Once up, every step I took reverberated in my head like the tom-toms of a thousand war drums
 
I painfully shuffled to the front door. I slowly opened the door and through bleary, watery eyes, I could make out the shadowy forms of six miniature aliens. As soon as the door was wide open all six of them shrieked, dropped their bags and ran up the street screaming at the top of their lungs, “a monster, a monster.”
 
It so frightened me that I did a little shouting myself. I slammed the door and ran as fast as I could to my easy chair. As soon as my breathing became somewhat normal, I convinced myself that I had a bad nightmare.
 
Later on, I heard some mumbling rumbling sound. It has a familiar ring to it but I really could not place it at the time. I slowly opened my eyes and there was my wife looking at me and saying, “You remembered that tonight was trick-or-treat night for the children?”
 
Not wanting to start up the tom-toms in my head again, I whispered very delicately, “Huh.” Then I fell back into my chair into a deep sleep dreaming of six aliens dancing and taunting me in my head.
 
The next morning I felt somewhat better and around the breakfast table my wife casually mentioned, “Did we have any trick-or-treaters last night?”
 
I stop to think for a moment and then said, “I don’t think anybody came to our door last night.”
 
“Then,” she asked, “where did these six bags of candy come from I found at our front door when I come home last night?”
 
Things are not always as they seem. When the whole picture is not in view it is easy to jump to the wrong conclusion. The Bible says, “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” (1 Corinthians 13:12 KJV).
 
Things look blurry now but one day we have the assurance that we will see things clearly and know things perfectly.
 
The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 34472. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mailjamessnyder2@att.net. The church website is www.whatafellowship.com.

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