go to church, somewhere

“go to church, somewhere, this Sunday” was the farewell which I left with the two, young, tattoo’d construction workers.  I asked them if they were from Mobile; but they said, “No, Montgomery…”  They needed their missing jack to change a flat.  I had “happened by” them as I went to refuel the forklift we were using to clean up the lime kiln shop and organize the outage materials.  

I was running on “E” but had wanted to finish the clean-up before refueling.  And there they were in their company truck – stranded at the propane station, with a flat tire and no jack!  (I told them to tell their boss that was NOT acceptable!)  If I had refueled before the clean-up, I most likely would have missed them?!  I told them I had a jack, but it would not fit in their toolbox!  “just let me refuel first before we use it…”

The reason that this is noteworthy is that it reminisced back to so many, many times we helped idiots out of the mud down the dirt road in front of my childhood home in rural Alabama.  (I cannot say too much because I am just redneck enough too that I like to mud-ride also.)  But, so many fools would take the “shortcut” between our highway and another county road (saving 5-10 minutes) right after a rain storm.  Then they would walk out to our house, boots clogged with mud, and pitifully plead for help.  

Daddy would tell us boys to get up and out the door we would go.  (a time or two, one of us was toting a .38, just in case)  And after pulling, pushing, winching, jacking, towing we’d get them out.  Most would just gush with thanks and want to pay us.  To that, Daddy always had the same answer – “go to church this Sunday…” (usually inviting them to my home church, if they were locals.) 

The two roughnecks smiled as I encouraged them to be thankful that God sent them an angel to help them.  They promised they would go to church this Sunday.  I reminded them that God would know!

I smiled as I rode back to the pulp mill shop with our refueled forklift, stopping by briefly to “fellowship” with a fellow believer at the bearing analysis lab.  They were having a late afternoon discussion about Alabama insurance laws.  I listened, but my mind was down a muddy, red clay road with my brother and dad.  “go to church, somewhere, this Sunday!”  (is this Mt.5.16?!)