It has been the typical day--- Mamma Deacon has had a full day of work and a night meeting to boot. I have spent the day doing my Monday routine of catching up on the weekend's ministry and the usual administrative tasks. After school, my three sons go seperate ways. Cadet Airman WE goes to the dentist, the linebacker (at least that is the position he is playing this week) heads to football practice, and the Artist (formally known as LPcoolJ to the internet world) is playing the handbells at church.
Man, it's good to see the day near an end and the familiar surroundings of home. As I come through the door, however, I must prepare myself for round two; this includes but is not limited to the next battle against a leaky washing machine, the boy's homework, and the charge conference forms that have to be ready for tomorrow's appointment at the District office. As I getting ready for all of this, the telephone rings. It is one of my Pastor buddies, calling from the other side of the state.
Usually, phone calls like that are information--- maybe about the retired pastor who died in Charleston today or some distress a colleague is having in ministry. But, it was not that kind of phone call. In the midst of my busy life (and I am sure his too), he called me for another reason. We didn't talk about church stuff, charge conference forms, ministerial appointments or leaky washing machines. Thankfully, it was an escape from all of that. He called to talk about Wofford football and the big win against Furman last Saturday. We talked about how Wofford ran the ball (and passed it too--which is a BIG thing for the terriers). We talked about Wofford's place in the national polls and our hopes for the playoffs. It helps that Wofford won over the past two weeks in an incredible fashion. We talked 10 minutes or so, and then we made plans to see each other in Charleston for this weekend's Wofford game at The Citadel.
Oh well, I thought, I guess it's time to get back to the charge conference forms and offer a silent hope that the washing machine will be okay for a couple of days. But the phone rings again. It was another United Methodist Pastor calling to talk about Wofford football. In the midst of my busy life (and I am sure his too), he called me. We didn't talk about church stuff, charge conference, ministerial appointments or leaky washing machines. Thankfully, it was an escape from all of that. He called to talk about Wofford football. We talked 10 minutes or so, and then we made plans to see each other in Charleston for this weekend's Wofford game at The Citadel.
As I hung up the second time I realized something special. In the midst of my busy routine, I found a moment of brief respite. My two friends and I may differ on many things from politics to theology, to the future of our ministry together. But in those brief minutes, we were united. We found a common, unifying moment around a football team. Maybe it's not the end of global warming; but maybe it can be the start of something else between us. Maybe Wofford will go far this year, and we will share other midweek phone calls.
Football teams take a timeout on the field to re-group, to plan the next play and to take a rest. Maybe football teams aren't the only ones who need them with a busy life of leaky washing machines, charge conference forms, and the boy's homework.