Timing
I don't always know where I am supposed to be. I'm not organized. I have my wife for that. She is organized. She is super Woman. Calendars are my Kryptonite. Super Woman keeps me on track. She keeps me in the right place at the right time. Phone inquiries like "You do remember that you are working the concession stand at Jackson's game tonight, right?" After a few panicked short breathes, I'll respond "Absolutely. Wouldn't miss. Can't wait." All the while, I am frantically trying to rearrange my work calendar to make it happen. Flawless execution by Super Woman and her fledgling clueless husband. But, even she can make a mistake. Take this evening for example, she sent me to the wrong Wal Mart to pick up her online grocery order. Even Super Woman makes mistakes. Wrong place. Is there ever a right time for Wal Mart? Wal Mart is always out of something. Tonight, they were out of Peace Tea, Gracie's favorite. Bad timing. Gracie needs her caffeine, citric acid, sugar, natural flavors, etc. They subbed Arizona Tea. Those bastards.
Look at our living situation. We are in the wrong place. A place with combination rooms. A place with a pee pad covered porch. A place with concrete and steel stairs. We are in the middle of a storm in our lives right now. And man, is our timing is way off. We missed not having to live in this apartment by one day. One day. I swear, 24 hours. 24 (insert curse word ending in "ing") hours. It's a long story that involves...That involves...Oh, forget about it. I don't want to go into it. Save that for another wrong time.
The boys are at Slossfest. They have their girlfriends with them. It's an outdoor music festival. It's raining. Bad timing. Storm.
The whole family is off time by just a tick. Slow down or hurry up? Who knows?
I eat Andy Capp's Hot Fries. I lick the residue off my fingers. I don't have the answers. I have Hot Fries and a Bud Light Lime. I don't know how to fix my timing. I know how to eat Hot Fries and drink beer. I know how to ask "why?" repeatedly. I don't have the answers. I'll have another beer. I'll have more Hot Fries. Thank you, Andy Capp. At least you're on time.
Timing. I seem to have caught every red light this past month. I can't remember what it is like to approach a green light and coast right through. If that ever happens again, I'll roll down the windows and let the wind blow through my thinning air. Unless it's raining. Timing is everything. It's not just the red lights. Diet Dr. Pepper is always sold out in the drink machine at work. We put the trash out 5 minutes too late. The dogs pee on the floor one minute before we walk them. The last kernel pops 30 seconds before the microwave stops, burning the entire contents of the popcorn bag.
My life literally consists of me standing in front of the toilet watching the brown water keep rising to the top of the bowl without going down. Timing. My timing is off. I'm one beat behind in a Run DMC rap. I'm one step off in the Macarena. I'm the guy that is searching the fridge for more French Onion Dip when the winning homerun is hit in the World Series. Timing.
Peace Tea does taste good. You should try it.
There's a storm brewing in my life right now. My timing is off. Super Woman's timing is off. Mother Nature's timing is off. Wal Mart's timing is off. It's raining on the boys at Slossfest. Gracie has no Peace Tea. The dogs have to piss.
My headphones cover my ears. Yep. Barry Manilow again. "Mandy". If Mandy's timing hadn't been off, maybe Barry wouldn't have sent her away. Damn you, Barry. She came and she gave without taking. Bad timing, Barry. I hate Barry Manilow. Sorry, Mom.
However, something changed this morning. At exactly 11:15 AM this morning, my timing was perfect. I knew where I had to be. My destination was the third pew from the back. I sat on the end next to the aisle. I looked out of place. I wasn't. I was right where I was supposed to be. I haven't been more certain of anything in months. Deacon Montgomery shook my hand, sister May hugged my neck. Right place. Right time. The choir sang and the pastor preached. Timing. He preached on the storms that come into our lives. Storms. He preached on God's timing. Timing. I was in the right place. The right place. The right time. Finally. Relief. I hadn't got much right lately. I got this right. Finally.
After the sermon. The pastor said "We have a special guest here with us today." I felt my face turning red. Sweat began to bead on my forehead. Every head turned and every eye looked at me. Of course. I was the only white person in the church. The pastor introduced me. I stood. I spoke. I don't remember what I said. I was white. I was nervous. I was happy. I was happy, because my timing was right. I made a commitment at my friend's funeral, the day before, that I would come back. I kept my word. I was back. I was on time.
As we were exiting the sanctuary, the entire congregation shook my hand. All of them took the time to greet me and make me feel welcome. Some of them hugged me. Others held my hands as they spoke. I called my wife as I drove away. I shared the message with her. I want her timing to be right. These past few months have been tough. Tough on us both. Especially on her. I want her stress to end. I want her tears to stop. I want her timing right. Today, I felt like I was coming out of my storm. I want her storm to end. She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I want her to feel what I felt today. A small church in Columbiana, Alabama helped me today.
Who knows, If you ever visit the Columbiana Union Baptist Church in Columbiana, Alabama, you just might see a middle aged white man sitting at the end of the third pew from the back. I'll be the only white person in there. I will be enjoying the sermon. I will be raising my hand as the pastor preaches about the storms that come into our lives. Preaching about God's timing.
Finally. My timing was right. My timing was perfect. It was perfect today. Perfect in that little church Over Yonder.
Look at our living situation. We are in the wrong place. A place with combination rooms. A place with a pee pad covered porch. A place with concrete and steel stairs. We are in the middle of a storm in our lives right now. And man, is our timing is way off. We missed not having to live in this apartment by one day. One day. I swear, 24 hours. 24 (insert curse word ending in "ing") hours. It's a long story that involves...That involves...Oh, forget about it. I don't want to go into it. Save that for another wrong time.
The boys are at Slossfest. They have their girlfriends with them. It's an outdoor music festival. It's raining. Bad timing. Storm.
The whole family is off time by just a tick. Slow down or hurry up? Who knows?
I eat Andy Capp's Hot Fries. I lick the residue off my fingers. I don't have the answers. I have Hot Fries and a Bud Light Lime. I don't know how to fix my timing. I know how to eat Hot Fries and drink beer. I know how to ask "why?" repeatedly. I don't have the answers. I'll have another beer. I'll have more Hot Fries. Thank you, Andy Capp. At least you're on time.
Timing. I seem to have caught every red light this past month. I can't remember what it is like to approach a green light and coast right through. If that ever happens again, I'll roll down the windows and let the wind blow through my thinning air. Unless it's raining. Timing is everything. It's not just the red lights. Diet Dr. Pepper is always sold out in the drink machine at work. We put the trash out 5 minutes too late. The dogs pee on the floor one minute before we walk them. The last kernel pops 30 seconds before the microwave stops, burning the entire contents of the popcorn bag.
My life literally consists of me standing in front of the toilet watching the brown water keep rising to the top of the bowl without going down. Timing. My timing is off. I'm one beat behind in a Run DMC rap. I'm one step off in the Macarena. I'm the guy that is searching the fridge for more French Onion Dip when the winning homerun is hit in the World Series. Timing.
Peace Tea does taste good. You should try it.
There's a storm brewing in my life right now. My timing is off. Super Woman's timing is off. Mother Nature's timing is off. Wal Mart's timing is off. It's raining on the boys at Slossfest. Gracie has no Peace Tea. The dogs have to piss.
My headphones cover my ears. Yep. Barry Manilow again. "Mandy". If Mandy's timing hadn't been off, maybe Barry wouldn't have sent her away. Damn you, Barry. She came and she gave without taking. Bad timing, Barry. I hate Barry Manilow. Sorry, Mom.
However, something changed this morning. At exactly 11:15 AM this morning, my timing was perfect. I knew where I had to be. My destination was the third pew from the back. I sat on the end next to the aisle. I looked out of place. I wasn't. I was right where I was supposed to be. I haven't been more certain of anything in months. Deacon Montgomery shook my hand, sister May hugged my neck. Right place. Right time. The choir sang and the pastor preached. Timing. He preached on the storms that come into our lives. Storms. He preached on God's timing. Timing. I was in the right place. The right place. The right time. Finally. Relief. I hadn't got much right lately. I got this right. Finally.
After the sermon. The pastor said "We have a special guest here with us today." I felt my face turning red. Sweat began to bead on my forehead. Every head turned and every eye looked at me. Of course. I was the only white person in the church. The pastor introduced me. I stood. I spoke. I don't remember what I said. I was white. I was nervous. I was happy. I was happy, because my timing was right. I made a commitment at my friend's funeral, the day before, that I would come back. I kept my word. I was back. I was on time.
As we were exiting the sanctuary, the entire congregation shook my hand. All of them took the time to greet me and make me feel welcome. Some of them hugged me. Others held my hands as they spoke. I called my wife as I drove away. I shared the message with her. I want her timing to be right. These past few months have been tough. Tough on us both. Especially on her. I want her stress to end. I want her tears to stop. I want her timing right. Today, I felt like I was coming out of my storm. I want her storm to end. She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I want her to feel what I felt today. A small church in Columbiana, Alabama helped me today.
Who knows, If you ever visit the Columbiana Union Baptist Church in Columbiana, Alabama, you just might see a middle aged white man sitting at the end of the third pew from the back. I'll be the only white person in there. I will be enjoying the sermon. I will be raising my hand as the pastor preaches about the storms that come into our lives. Preaching about God's timing.
Finally. My timing was right. My timing was perfect. It was perfect today. Perfect in that little church Over Yonder.
Awesome blog Mark!! Enjoyed it. As for timing, everything you do in your life is relative with time. All that you do as a person is relevant and appreciated. You’re a great man and a good friend. Andy
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