Praise the Lord

And pass the ammunition!

Well, y'all, the 'chick has returned to the land of the living. Thanks so much for all the good wishes.

Now, to prove the theory that no good deed goes unpunished - Redneck is sick. Bless his little heart. The 'chick left him tucked up in bed, phone close at hand, with a cat standing guard.

Actually, the 'chick has been feeling better for a couple of days but work has been absolutely crazy. The 'chick has been on the road, visiting other offices, doing visits, training a new employee, and trying to get some of her own work done. (Getting her own work done = posting something to the blog before everyone thought the 'chick was dead.)

Join Roadchick in the story corner, boys and girls. It's been awhile, hasn't it?

Bice did a post the other day about "Odd Time Religion" and it brought to mind this little story.

A few years ago, Roadchick was invited to attend a church service at a little church up in the hills. Although not a regular church-goer, the 'chick has attended from time to time - just not at this church.

It sounded pleasant enough, so Roadchick accepted.

On Sunday morning, Roadchick put on her Sunday best and presented herself at the church at the appointed hour. Her friends joined her and they all went in together.

The service was moving along nicely - a few hymns were hammered out on the out-of-tune piano - and the congregation boldly sang along. Roadchick chose to lip-synch since she didn't actually KNOW the words (or the tune). (A side-note: Hymns are vastly different depending on which denomination you attend. Catholic hymns are NOT Baptist hymns - not by a long shot.)

After a few announcements (Pancake breakfast, annual parish turkey shoot), the congregation settled in for the sermon.

Brother R.D. did not disappoint.

He commenced with the praying, hands in the air, speaking to his personal Savior. Apparently, it was a good connection and the Savior was answering.

Brother R.D.: Lawd...we're a sinful bunch...sinful....mean....hateful

Brother R.D.: Lawd....You're right...we don't deserve Your goodness...Your mercy....

Brother R.D.: ..........(long pause)..............

Brother R.D.: Lawd, You're RIGHT! (hands high in the air) We must REPENT! REPENT AND BE SAVED! FOR AMONGST US, THERE IS A ......FORNICATOR. AND A DRUNKARD! COVETING THY NEIGHBOR'S ASS!

Y'all, no one moved. No one breathed. No one blinked. We didn't dare. We all knew it was us and any movement would've been an admission of guilt. Roadchick was struggling to keep from bursting into hysterical laughter.

But, just like in that Christmas song, Cousin David knew just what to do. Well, not actually the 'chick's Cousin David...but it was a guy named David....anyway.

David apparently took all of this to heart and there was not forgiveness or contrition in his heart. It's possible that a crushing hangover clouded his decision, but the 'chick is not judging.

David left his seat and headed up the aisle. As he walked, he reached into his jacket pocket (camouflage) and pulled out an enormous hunting knife. When he reached the pulpit, he almost casually put the knife to Brother R.D.'s throat and informed him in a very matter-of-fact voice that he, personally, didn't appreciate his faults and short-comings being brought before the congregation by Brother R.D. when, after all, his sins were his to confess or not, as he chose.

As David gently instructed Brother R.D. on the error of his ways, the little ridgetop church slowly began to empty...one seat at a time. From the back. As quietly as possible. So as to not disturb David. Or Brother R.D.

After a few minutes, David's brother slowly approached the pulpit and began talking to David like nothing had happened. Told him that he always had admired that hunting knife, and where did David say that it had come from again? Would David mind if he just had a look at it for a minute. . . he wanted to see if it would fit in the sheath on the side of his boot.

Amazingly, David handed the knife over, and crisis was averted. No one was hurt (which was a good thing).
Brother R.D. was oddly subdued for a long time after that, people say.
Roadchick would not know. She never returned there.

That Old Time Religion can be a killer.