While waiting for our hope ...let each day be with anticipation, but not to lose sight of a little humor.

This week while rolling over, before getting out of bed ...a couple stories rolled into my head, blessing my early morning.

Both stories included an elderly lady of at least 85 years of age.  

We have a few elderly ladies in the church which I attend, but they are all elegant.

The dreams tossing about in my head were more similar to Dana Carvey's depiction of the 'church lady' character, or perhaps closer to home ...of a few memories of Verlyn Dawson, and the stories I've been told.

Anyway, here is the first story:

If you recall that little dance that Dana Carvey did, as the 'church' lady' ...with a sort of robotic shuffling back and forth, it will give you some idea.  But, in this story, it was an elderly lady I had not seen before.  You may ask, was she a newcomer to my church?

It was not my church.

I was visiting a church with a friend.  It was a church of mostly all elderly people ...with an energy I had never before witnessed.

This one particular lady sat next to us in the back row of the church ...smiling at us as we scooted over, so she could be near the center aisle. Without warning, there was a blast over the loudspeakers ...which stunned me, but seemed to give a needed jolt to everyone else. Everyone around us sprung to their feet, and began to move about in a robotic fashion.

I realized the blast was music, and I assumed it was loud because many of them may be hard of hearing ...or would soon be so.  The lady next to us, shuffled to the center aisle ...and everyone around us were dancing in their seats, and in the aisles.

Humor was never the purpose of why I went to church, but with all this shuffling and jerking about ...I would not fault anyone who'd be perhaps amused.

I glanced at my friend, who nodded ...and whose smile nearly turned into laughter. I guess, at this point I did begin to find fault ...with my friend. 

I was a bit disappointed, because I realized that he had taken me here for just the humor of it all. I could have been attending a solemn, soul-searching sermon ...but instead, I was attending a church service not as praise and worship, but as a joke.

This did not seem reverent to me ...but as I looked about, it seemed I was the only one disappointed. Everyone else continued to move about enthusiastically with their own unique style, enjoying the loud music.

I recall my own youth, and the somewhat frivolous encouragement of "Shake it!!"  But now as I continued to look about, I believe that in their case they somehow couldn't help it.

With heads shaking robotically from side-to-side, I was a bit afraid that one of them might fall from such an unsteady gait.

I tried not to look over at my smirking friend ...as I was still a bit upset with him for taking me here. I looked back to the center aisle, where that 'church lady' was still shuffling about. She robotically turned her head from side-to-side with each slide of her foot.

Suddenly, with one jerk of her head, her glasses twisted off ...but I didn't see them fall.  As she turned around to shuffle back toward us, I saw the glasses dangling from her face.

Having twisted on her face, one arm of the glasses had caught the sag under her eye, and appeared to be affixed to a wrinkle there ...while the other arm of the glasses seemed firmly stuck in her ear.

At this moment, even I laughed ...but I was sorry I did, because this was all the encouragement that my bold friend needed to seemingly warrant his comments.

The music was so loud, he shouted, to be assured I could hear him, "Look at her ..."

He was mid-way in his sentence, when the music stopped, as abruptly as it had begun.  So everyone heard how he finished his sentence, " ...she looks like she's in such pain, like she's been shot!"

The lady suddenly shot us a glance, and challenged loudly, for the entire congregation to hear, "It's not pain, young man ...it's a feeling of rapture!"

I wanted to sink below the seat at this time, especially since I knew my friend to be so bold as to never back down from any verbal exchange.  "No offense, Mam, but you'll have to muster more energy than that to be raptured!"

I can still feel her response echoing in my head, as it did that day, "Read your Bible, Sonny, it has nothin' to do with my energy!"

I still laugh when I think of it.  And on at least that point, her Scripture was sound.

The second story found me further into my wake-up, and I believe it will be shorter. It is the same church, but this time it is after the opening music ...and the dancing.

The preacher is talking about sin ...the sin of the flesh, the works of the flesh, and the deeds of the flesh.

Suddenly, an elderly man at the back of the church stands up, and interrupts, "But sometimes the flesh is good."

The entire church is silent.  It is as if the innocent lambs of the congregation have been just interrupted by the voice of a wolf.  And all of their shocked faces turn toward him.

He does not realize the extent of his interruption, but instead continues to try to convince them all of his point, "Why are you all staring at me that way?  Studies have shown ..."

He doesn't notice that suddenly the doors at the back, leading to the center aisle ...open.

An elderly lady, everyone recognizes as his wife, enters. 

The doors behind her swing back and forth ...like that of a saloon in a Western movie.  She stops short, looking towards her husband, who seemingly still does not notice her.  She leans on her cane to upright herself ...then raises it, as 'the law' would draw a gun to restore order in those Westerns.

Her husband continues on, attempting to reiterate his point, " ...and yes, studies have shown that flesh touching flesh releases Oxytocin, and is a healthy thing."

At this point, he looks slightly to the side, and notices her there. He desperately attempts to backtrack a bit, "Well, I mean, when I have my pole and I'm on the riverbank ...with my pants rolled up to my knees, I wiggle my toes."

His wife shakes her cane at him, "You're fishin' alright!"