Eating Peacock, Laying Tile and Getting Peed On

They never told me about all the odd jobs, both paid and volunteer, that ministry offers, or seems at times, demands. At various times in my 33 years, there have been seasons that necessitated my working a little part-time job to make ends meet.

I spent one summer working on the ranch of a church member putting in fence. He paid me, even though I cut his expensive tape measure into two pieces with the post hole diggers. It was also there that I first tried a peacock sandwich. He kept peacocks on his ranch running wild. Early one morning he heard a fuss and went out to find one had just been killed by a predator. It was still fresh, so he dressed it and we baked it and ate it for lunch. What did it taste like? You guessed it... Chicken! He was also pretty big on Mountain Oysters, but I passed on those. If you're not sure about Mountain Oysters, ask your friends; someone will know.

Another summer, I worked with a local Pastor and friend who had a construction remodeling business on the side. He left me on the job in a hot, closed-in space with a jackhammer tearing out a concrete floor. I have never been so tired at the end of a day.

Then there were all the odd things you just help people do out of the goodness of your heart, right? Our Worship Pastor, Gary, had promised my son, who was President of the high school Christian Club, that he would lead a couple of songs at See-You-At-The-Pole. The night before the event, he called begging off since he lived some distance away. I sort of put my foot down about it and suggested strongly that it would be wrong of him to back out at such late notice and that it was important for him to keep his word. To his credit and my gratitude, he honored me and made his appearance.

Sometime later, he asked me if I would come to his house and show him how to lay ceramic tile in his bathroom. Since I had learned to lay tile for myself, I offered to assist him one Saturday. On the appointed day, the last thing in the world I wanted to do was lay tile, but I remembered my speech to him about keeping one's word. I realized that instead of putting my foot down, I had put it in my mouth. There was nothing I could do but go. After watching Gary for a while, I realized he was doing a great job on his own. It was a small room that would not accommodate both of us working at once, but I certainly could not suggest that I was unnecessary and should go home. After sometime, Gary said, "Pastor, I think I have it under control now, so why don't you go home. Besides, I know the only reason you came is because you had to honor your word after making me honor mine." I did not realize it was so obvious. As we sat talking a few minutes before I left, his new puppy came running over to me, hiked his leg and peed on my foot. Gary was so embarrassed and with repeated apologies got the puppy under control. I was definitely ready to go home. Gary, however, in the next Sunday morning service was not so embarrassed. He told the whole church about how I had made him follow through with his promise and how funny it was that I then had to eat my own words and be there to help him. On top of everything else, he then announced to the entire morning congregation that his dog had peed on the preacher's foot. Of course, everyone thought it was hilarious.

They never told me in Bible College that I would get peed on, sometimes literally as in the story above, and other times figuratively. I think we'll save the figurative stories for another time (or maybe never).