HOW COULD SUCH SIMPLE CHOICES BE SO HARD TO MAKE? That's what Bill wanted to know.
By the time he lay down to sleep in that same guest room where he had frightened Jill and Danny, he was tired. Jack was asleep nearby and soundly by the evidence of his soft snoring. Bill knew he wouldn't awaken his brother, and so let out a long, loud yawn as he nestled securely on the pillow. What a day it had been! And he was justifiably exhausted. As expected, Jack hadn't even stirred at his brother's loud yawn. Bill pulled the sheet up and was about to close his eyes, when he heard that irritating buzzing sound of his cell phone, set to vibrate mode. He was glad he'd had the sense to take it off its ring tone a couple of hours earlier during the movie.
He had to cross the room to pick up his phone off the top of the dresser. There were several messages which were more or less repeated, all coming from a number he at first didn't recognize. Then he checked the name i. d. and remembered who it was. The message itself confirmed it: "heard you were in town. I've missed you. Come to our Sunday School class
tomorrow. Of course! Can't wait to see you." Then a bunch of x's and o's.
He sat up on his elbow, and kept his phone's light on for a moment thinking. Jennifer Donaldson. Of course. He had met her a couple of summer's ago, and had attended her class. He hadn't recalled that she had a crush on him, but maybe that had changed . . . . Or maybe she was just glad to renew their friendship. One thing he was learning quick: it was no good trying to second guess women. Or maybe even figure them out from the first. But the text troubled him. Should he answer or not? And what should he say? Bill was fairly certain that Jill expected him to come to her Sunday School class even though that was a little awkward now. At his age, he would stick out like a sore thumb. He was sure Jack would go to Danny's class, so that was settled. But what should he do?
He got back in bed with his phone, lay down and turned his head sideways on the pillow. It seemed such a little thing, almost a silly thing. He had been looking forward to Sunday School and worship. They had the same preacher that they had had from the last few years he'd been to see his Uncle and Aunt. He liked the guy and always enjoyed the different experience of worship as compared with his home church. But now he was troubled. Finally, Bill took up his phone and typed out an answer to Jennifer D.: "thanks. See you tomorrow. Tired now, and in
bed. Snorzzzzz."
After he sent it, he turned off his phone. He was still tired, but thinking about this potential conflict kept him awake a few minutes longer.
The ride to church that morning was unusually tense. At breakfast, Bill had casually mentioned that he might go to the class for kid's his age. Under Jill's forthcoming interrogation, he admitted that yes, he had heard from Jennifer; and yes, she had invited him. With each response Bill could see his cousin descend into something like a jealous panic.
"Well, it's just a sunday school class," he'd said. But that admission did no good whatsoever. "I can come to yours next week," he said as a second effort.
She looked at him with more longing in her eyes than he had ever seen: "I want you to come to my class, today, Bill! Puhllleeeazzzzzz!"
All this was not lost on Gene and Margaret in the front seat of their van. Gene had overheard his daughter's anxious questioning that morning at the breakfast table. He knew there was a real problem brewing here out of something that should have been really simple. He knew his
daughter's moodiness and potential anger spells. It was something she needed badly to learn how to control. This troubled him almost as much as the fact that his daughter clearly had a crush on her older cousin.
"Well gang," he interjected, trying hard to sound off-hand but serious, "let's not lose sight of what we're about today. God has given us a beautiful day to worship and learn about His Son Jesus Christ. Let's make the most of it. I think Bill is big enough to decide which class he would like to attend."
"Oh, Dad!" pouted Jill. "You --!" She was about to say, "you ruin everything," but didn't. She was smart enough to know it would have been perceived as an insult to her father's authority. She just sighed deeply and crossed her arms. Jill felt a tear forming on the eye opposite her older cousin, and she did not want him to see her crying before Sunday School. So she only gazed at him out of the corner of the one near him. Maybe she could grab his arm when they got out of the car and steer him in the direction of her class quickly, before he could think . . . .
The Grayson's mini-van came to a hault in the parking lot of St. Mark's Methodist Church when suddenly Jill had another inspiration. "Hey, Bill, we've made some changes to our classroom: we're upstairs now. You should come and see the new arrangement. We got a new teacher too since you were here last!"
Her excitement was contagious, and he knew the polite thing to do would be to go along with her. In a way he was relieved that her special invitation absolved him from the decision to
choose the older students' class in answer to that other invitation. "Sure I'll come and see it," he said noncommittally.
Out of the car, Jill quickly decided she didn't care what others thought. She linked Bill's arm in hers and steered him from the car directly to the upstairs classroom of the junior high students (6th and 7th grades). He was a little surprised but thought it best not to say anything -- except to compliment her.
"That's a real pretty dress on you, Jill," he said. She blushed and smiled. Then her face dissolved back into that determined look he had gotten used to seeing in just the last two days.
When they got upstairs to the junior high room, Jill patted a seat next to her own folding chair, and Bill, compliantly, had sat down. ("Like a lamb led to the slaughter!" he thought to himself, remembering he had seen this in the Bible. Then just as quickly he remembered it applied to that Someone who was far greater than himself.)
The room itself was nice and large with plenty of Bibles and other learning equipment, but not remarkable for all that. A couple of students were already there and said, 'hi' to Jill and nodded
to Bill. Jill never lost her concentration, and was quick to add, "Well, you've seen it, so now you might as well stay here for class!" Other students were filing in and taking their seats, when a couple of older girls, about Bill's age, forced their way through the open entrance.
One was Jennifer Donaldson, the other was a familiar, and very pretty blonde girl named Barbara, that Bill remembered from a previous visit. Jennifer herself looked very fetching with her long, chestnut hair, tied in one long, low bow. She flashed him an inviting smile and waved as she approached. "Hey, Bill, it's great to see you again."
She came near, apparently expecting him to stand and hug her. He flushed red with embarrassment, as he stood and offered his hand. Jennifer pounced on it like a cobra and held it tight.
"Let's go to Sunday School together, Bill!" she said with a toss of her long, thick pony tail and a flash of great teeth.
"He's already in Sunday School, Jennifer. Or hadn't you noticed?"
Jennifer looked down at Jill for the first time and shrugged with a bored look. "Bill doesn't want to go to class with the little kids. We've got our own older youth class."
"I know you do, but Bill decided to go to our class."
"Oh, he did, did he?" asked Jennifer, now glaring in surprise at Bill. "Is this true, William?"
He remembered how she had used his formal name in the past on occasions when she really wanted his attention. At first he had thought it cute; but it got old quick. He made up his mind quickly now.
"Yeah, I'll just stick with this class today, if you don't mind!"
"I do mind!" Jennifer said. "I invited you to our class. And anyway, you're not going to be in town that much longer, are you?!"
The question was accompanied by an angry, pouting look. It was then that Mr. Benson walked back in the room. He had been standing just outside in the hall as students were entering.
"Okay, class, everyone please take a seat -- if you're staying that is --," he said, glaring at the two older girls. "And who would like to open us with prayer?"
"I will, Sir!" called Bill. He would have raised his hand, but Jennifer had one, and Jill had the other. Maybe he was being self-serving in this moment, but the opening prayer might be his escape from this dilemma -- at least for the moment.
Mr. Benson looked at him, studying him from toe to head. "You're Gene's nephew, aren't you?"
"Yes, Sir," nodded Bill.
"Well, if you girls will turn him loose and take a seat, or find your own class, I believe Bill can start us off with a fine prayer."
That authoritative nudge was enough to make a very frustrated Jennifer look hurt; but she complied. "I'll see you in worship, Bill. I hope!" Her words and the accompanying look were delivered like daggers, and the class was treated to the slow, sharp knocking of four angry female heels against the hard wood floor of their classroom.
Bill breathed a sigh of relief, and offered a brief but serious prayer.
"Thanks, Bill," nodded Mr. Benson. "Now, class we were studying about the family of Abraham, and we got to the story of Jacob coming back to the land of Canaan. Who can tell me . . . ."
Sunday school went okay and was even pretty interesting: Mr. Benson had some slides of the land of Canaan and Syria where Jacob had wandered. When it was over, he knew he would once again be a wanted man. Sure enough, leaving Jill for a moment, he headed to the nearest men's room. But it seems Jennifer and her friend Barbara had anticipated this
move. Having spotted Bill a good ways down the hall, they got between him and the men's room. They were now striding toward him in their short skirts, their high heels knocking hard against the linoleum with committed feminine determination. Their red lipstick and excessive make-up was formidable and tempting, but Bill had other notions just then.
With no warning, he quickly slipped out a side door to what he hoped was the outside yard.
Bill knew he had chosen the wrong door as soon as it was shut behind him. "Well, it had been a whole year," he thought. "And they did do some remodeling."
He found himself in the church's interior garden square -- a kind of a courtyard with flowers, plants, benches, a picnic table, and even a small patch where the pre-schoolers planted an occasional vegetable garden. So he was "outside" but still surrounded by the walls of the building. He chose one door off the courtyard that he vaguely remembered would lead to a hallway, and then to an outside exit.
But he chose wrong! Once through the door he found himself in a very surprised looking older adults sunday school class. The class leader, an elderly, balding man named Rex had stopped lecturing in mid-sentence, his mouth still open in surprise at Bill's sudden entry. The latter spoke first.
"I -- I am very sorry, Sir -- and friends! I as trying to cross the courtyard and get to a men's room. I thought there was one over through here."
"There is," nodded Rex, pointing at the interior doorway into a hallway beyond. "Right through there and to the left a bit." Bill nodded his thanks and repeated his apology. He was through the door and into the men's room like a lightening bolt. He did need to "go" but he also figured
this would give him some breathing space and time to figure out what to do next.
Back in the hall, he stopped to think carefully and searched his brain for some memory of the
layout of the church campus. He thought the hallway he was in would lead to the outside, on the opposite side of the building from the parking lot. In this he was right, so he made his way out, and leaned against the building catching his breath for a few minutes. He checked the clock on his cell phone, and when he had determined enough time had passed, he slipped through the north sanctuary door and into the main worship center. Sure enough, Bill had waited long enough and his aunt and uncle were now seated in their usual pew about five rows from the front on the left side. Out of the corner of his eye and in the opposite direction he spotted his brother with his two young cousins, and beyond them Jennifer and Barb. He made a bee-line to the adults and sat down beside his aunt. "I forgot to tell you how nice you look today, Aunt Margaret," he said with full sincerity. Margaret smiled in surprise. "Why, thank you, Bill. You are quite the young gentleman. She looked around behind them both. "Are you going to sit with your cousins?" she asked curiously.
"No, Ma'am, not this time. I think, if it's okay, I'll just stay here with you guys. You got some good seats."
Margaret nodded, a little surprised. "Well, you're right about that. And we'd be honored to have you up here with us." To herself, she wondered what was going on.
Bill glanced back after that to see four sets of female eyes glowering at him with both question marks and daggers. During the first hymn, Jill, Danny, and Jack moved up to the pew of Bill,
Gene, and Margaret. Jill's pleading eyes seemed to say to him, "Why? Why did you run away?"
Bill looked at her with a big grin, and wrote out a note on his paper bulletin. "It's all okay. I'll explain later -- over a chocolate malt!"
She smiled and pinched his arm none too softly. Friends again. Sure, just friends.
Or maybe something more . . . ?
LBC
 |
| Bill heard his phone buzzing from across the room. This could not be good . . . . |
By the time he lay down to sleep in that same guest room where he had frightened Jill and Danny, he was tired. Jack was asleep nearby and soundly by the evidence of his soft snoring. Bill knew he wouldn't awaken his brother, and so let out a long, loud yawn as he nestled securely on the pillow. What a day it had been! And he was justifiably exhausted. As expected, Jack hadn't even stirred at his brother's loud yawn. Bill pulled the sheet up and was about to close his eyes, when he heard that irritating buzzing sound of his cell phone, set to vibrate mode. He was glad he'd had the sense to take it off its ring tone a couple of hours earlier during the movie.
He had to cross the room to pick up his phone off the top of the dresser. There were several messages which were more or less repeated, all coming from a number he at first didn't recognize. Then he checked the name i. d. and remembered who it was. The message itself confirmed it: "heard you were in town. I've missed you. Come to our Sunday School class
 |
| It was Jennifer D. She wanted something . . . badly. |
He sat up on his elbow, and kept his phone's light on for a moment thinking. Jennifer Donaldson. Of course. He had met her a couple of summer's ago, and had attended her class. He hadn't recalled that she had a crush on him, but maybe that had changed . . . . Or maybe she was just glad to renew their friendship. One thing he was learning quick: it was no good trying to second guess women. Or maybe even figure them out from the first. But the text troubled him. Should he answer or not? And what should he say? Bill was fairly certain that Jill expected him to come to her Sunday School class even though that was a little awkward now. At his age, he would stick out like a sore thumb. He was sure Jack would go to Danny's class, so that was settled. But what should he do?
He got back in bed with his phone, lay down and turned his head sideways on the pillow. It seemed such a little thing, almost a silly thing. He had been looking forward to Sunday School and worship. They had the same preacher that they had had from the last few years he'd been to see his Uncle and Aunt. He liked the guy and always enjoyed the different experience of worship as compared with his home church. But now he was troubled. Finally, Bill took up his phone and typed out an answer to Jennifer D.: "thanks. See you tomorrow. Tired now, and in
 |
| The drive to the church building should have been fairly uneventful. |
After he sent it, he turned off his phone. He was still tired, but thinking about this potential conflict kept him awake a few minutes longer.
The ride to church that morning was unusually tense. At breakfast, Bill had casually mentioned that he might go to the class for kid's his age. Under Jill's forthcoming interrogation, he admitted that yes, he had heard from Jennifer; and yes, she had invited him. With each response Bill could see his cousin descend into something like a jealous panic.
"Well, it's just a sunday school class," he'd said. But that admission did no good whatsoever. "I can come to yours next week," he said as a second effort.
She looked at him with more longing in her eyes than he had ever seen: "I want you to come to my class, today, Bill! Puhllleeeazzzzzz!"
All this was not lost on Gene and Margaret in the front seat of their van. Gene had overheard his daughter's anxious questioning that morning at the breakfast table. He knew there was a real problem brewing here out of something that should have been really simple. He knew his
 |
| The moodiness of Gene's daughter troubled him. |
"Well gang," he interjected, trying hard to sound off-hand but serious, "let's not lose sight of what we're about today. God has given us a beautiful day to worship and learn about His Son Jesus Christ. Let's make the most of it. I think Bill is big enough to decide which class he would like to attend."
"Oh, Dad!" pouted Jill. "You --!" She was about to say, "you ruin everything," but didn't. She was smart enough to know it would have been perceived as an insult to her father's authority. She just sighed deeply and crossed her arms. Jill felt a tear forming on the eye opposite her older cousin, and she did not want him to see her crying before Sunday School. So she only gazed at him out of the corner of the one near him. Maybe she could grab his arm when they got out of the car and steer him in the direction of her class quickly, before he could think . . . .
The Grayson's mini-van came to a hault in the parking lot of St. Mark's Methodist Church when suddenly Jill had another inspiration. "Hey, Bill, we've made some changes to our classroom: we're upstairs now. You should come and see the new arrangement. We got a new teacher too since you were here last!"
Her excitement was contagious, and he knew the polite thing to do would be to go along with her. In a way he was relieved that her special invitation absolved him from the decision to
 |
| St. Mark's was an old, composite building. The Graysons parked and went inside. |
Out of the car, Jill quickly decided she didn't care what others thought. She linked Bill's arm in hers and steered him from the car directly to the upstairs classroom of the junior high students (6th and 7th grades). He was a little surprised but thought it best not to say anything -- except to compliment her.
"That's a real pretty dress on you, Jill," he said. She blushed and smiled. Then her face dissolved back into that determined look he had gotten used to seeing in just the last two days.
When they got upstairs to the junior high room, Jill patted a seat next to her own folding chair, and Bill, compliantly, had sat down. ("Like a lamb led to the slaughter!" he thought to himself, remembering he had seen this in the Bible. Then just as quickly he remembered it applied to that Someone who was far greater than himself.)
The room itself was nice and large with plenty of Bibles and other learning equipment, but not remarkable for all that. A couple of students were already there and said, 'hi' to Jill and nodded
 |
| The other students began to get settled in the class room. |
to Bill. Jill never lost her concentration, and was quick to add, "Well, you've seen it, so now you might as well stay here for class!" Other students were filing in and taking their seats, when a couple of older girls, about Bill's age, forced their way through the open entrance.
One was Jennifer Donaldson, the other was a familiar, and very pretty blonde girl named Barbara, that Bill remembered from a previous visit. Jennifer herself looked very fetching with her long, chestnut hair, tied in one long, low bow. She flashed him an inviting smile and waved as she approached. "Hey, Bill, it's great to see you again."
She came near, apparently expecting him to stand and hug her. He flushed red with embarrassment, as he stood and offered his hand. Jennifer pounced on it like a cobra and held it tight.
"Let's go to Sunday School together, Bill!" she said with a toss of her long, thick pony tail and a flash of great teeth.
"He's already in Sunday School, Jennifer. Or hadn't you noticed?"
Jennifer looked down at Jill for the first time and shrugged with a bored look. "Bill doesn't want to go to class with the little kids. We've got our own older youth class."
 |
| Bill wasn't used to being fought over . . . and never at Sunday School! |
"I know you do, but Bill decided to go to our class."
"Oh, he did, did he?" asked Jennifer, now glaring in surprise at Bill. "Is this true, William?"
He remembered how she had used his formal name in the past on occasions when she really wanted his attention. At first he had thought it cute; but it got old quick. He made up his mind quickly now.
"Yeah, I'll just stick with this class today, if you don't mind!"
"I do mind!" Jennifer said. "I invited you to our class. And anyway, you're not going to be in town that much longer, are you?!"
The question was accompanied by an angry, pouting look. It was then that Mr. Benson walked back in the room. He had been standing just outside in the hall as students were entering.
"Okay, class, everyone please take a seat -- if you're staying that is --," he said, glaring at the two older girls. "And who would like to open us with prayer?"
"I will, Sir!" called Bill. He would have raised his hand, but Jennifer had one, and Jill had the other. Maybe he was being self-serving in this moment, but the opening prayer might be his escape from this dilemma -- at least for the moment.
Mr. Benson looked at him, studying him from toe to head. "You're Gene's nephew, aren't you?"
"Yes, Sir," nodded Bill.
 | |
| Bill hastily said a prayer before class started. |
"Well, if you girls will turn him loose and take a seat, or find your own class, I believe Bill can start us off with a fine prayer."
That authoritative nudge was enough to make a very frustrated Jennifer look hurt; but she complied. "I'll see you in worship, Bill. I hope!" Her words and the accompanying look were delivered like daggers, and the class was treated to the slow, sharp knocking of four angry female heels against the hard wood floor of their classroom.
Bill breathed a sigh of relief, and offered a brief but serious prayer.
"Thanks, Bill," nodded Mr. Benson. "Now, class we were studying about the family of Abraham, and we got to the story of Jacob coming back to the land of Canaan. Who can tell me . . . ."
Sunday school went okay and was even pretty interesting: Mr. Benson had some slides of the land of Canaan and Syria where Jacob had wandered. When it was over, he knew he would once again be a wanted man. Sure enough, leaving Jill for a moment, he headed to the nearest men's room. But it seems Jennifer and her friend Barbara had anticipated this
 |
| He thought he remembered their being a bathroom down this hallway . . . . |
With no warning, he quickly slipped out a side door to what he hoped was the outside yard.
Bill knew he had chosen the wrong door as soon as it was shut behind him. "Well, it had been a whole year," he thought. "And they did do some remodeling."
He found himself in the church's interior garden square -- a kind of a courtyard with flowers, plants, benches, a picnic table, and even a small patch where the pre-schoolers planted an occasional vegetable garden. So he was "outside" but still surrounded by the walls of the building. He chose one door off the courtyard that he vaguely remembered would lead to a hallway, and then to an outside exit.
But he chose wrong! Once through the door he found himself in a very surprised looking older adults sunday school class. The class leader, an elderly, balding man named Rex had stopped lecturing in mid-sentence, his mouth still open in surprise at Bill's sudden entry. The latter spoke first.
"I -- I am very sorry, Sir -- and friends! I as trying to cross the courtyard and get to a men's room. I thought there was one over through here."
"There is," nodded Rex, pointing at the interior doorway into a hallway beyond. "Right through there and to the left a bit." Bill nodded his thanks and repeated his apology. He was through the door and into the men's room like a lightening bolt. He did need to "go" but he also figured
 |
| He crossed the church garden to effect his temporary escape. |
Back in the hall, he stopped to think carefully and searched his brain for some memory of the
layout of the church campus. He thought the hallway he was in would lead to the outside, on the opposite side of the building from the parking lot. In this he was right, so he made his way out, and leaned against the building catching his breath for a few minutes. He checked the clock on his cell phone, and when he had determined enough time had passed, he slipped through the north sanctuary door and into the main worship center. Sure enough, Bill had waited long enough and his aunt and uncle were now seated in their usual pew about five rows from the front on the left side. Out of the corner of his eye and in the opposite direction he spotted his brother with his two young cousins, and beyond them Jennifer and Barb. He made a bee-line to the adults and sat down beside his aunt. "I forgot to tell you how nice you look today, Aunt Margaret," he said with full sincerity. Margaret smiled in surprise. "Why, thank you, Bill. You are quite the young gentleman. She looked around behind them both. "Are you going to sit with your cousins?" she asked curiously.
"No, Ma'am, not this time. I think, if it's okay, I'll just stay here with you guys. You got some good seats."
Margaret nodded, a little surprised. "Well, you're right about that. And we'd be honored to have you up here with us." To herself, she wondered what was going on.
 |
| Bill was glad to join his Uncle and Aunt in worship. |
Gene, and Margaret. Jill's pleading eyes seemed to say to him, "Why? Why did you run away?"
Bill looked at her with a big grin, and wrote out a note on his paper bulletin. "It's all okay. I'll explain later -- over a chocolate malt!"
She smiled and pinched his arm none too softly. Friends again. Sure, just friends.
Or maybe something more . . . ?
LBC
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Hey, thanks for reading. Enjoy AND USE God's world to the full (otherwise you'll be disobeying Him!) Seriously. I'm serious, Mon!! Get your big shovel, and start digging in the ground . . . find oil, gas, coal, burn it, use it; refine it, and travel and function by it! It's God's will, AND we can now do it cleanly! It is time to obey God's orders from Genesis 1!