Tuesday, July 26, 2016


The doorbell rang. The phone rang. The shower was running and I was about to hop in, since I was a hot mess after my morning exercise. It occurred to me that I could let any one of these matters slide. I could let the phone ring. I could let the water run. I could leave the door closed. My son was asleep. My wife was out. I could easily disappear into the fabric of a Saturday morning. "Sorry. Nobody home." I could be standing in the tub, washing off the cares of the day that had only just begun.
But I didn't.
I turned off the water. I answered the door. The phone kept ringing. On the front porch were two snappily dressed gentlemen. It was Saturday morning. They were wearing ties and carrying briefcases. I knew who they were. Rather, I knew what they were. I knew who they were representing. They were Jehovah Witnesses, here on my front porch on this bright summer day to spread the Word of the Lord. Or at least the word of the folks who may have had some notion about what the Lord had on his mind. They were there to spread that word to those who would listen.
I wasn't exactly in that category. I needed a shower. The phone was still ringing. I told them as much when I answered the door. These two gentlemen remained pleasant and encouraged me to take their literature, to read when I got a chance. I took the tract, bid them good day, and closed the door. The phone was still ringing. I was able to catch it on the last ring before it went to voice mail.
It was my wife, the lady who once upon a time answered our door on a Saturday morning and gave a nice group of Jehovah Witnesses the gift of her time and interest. This is what led them back to our door. I let her know that she would have something to read when she got home.
With the outside distractions taken care of, I returned to my shower. The water was still warm, and as I stood under the stream, I had to give up a certain begrudging appreciation to the Jehovah Witnesses. In an age of robo-calls and email spam, they were still out there pounding the pavement, knocking on doors and meeting people face to face. And as much as I admired their tenacity, I reminded myself to go ahead and take care of myself first on Saturday mornings. Cleanliness, after all, is next to godliness.

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