Dr. James L. Snyder
Every week comes and goes, and some go faster than others. Such was last week.
It started pretty well, but then everything went downhill.
I had my semiannual doctor’s visit. After all, he has kids that need to go to college. After his complete examination of me, he said, “You’re doing great.”
I asked him to repeat that several times, because The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage was there, and I wanted her to hear it from someone other than me. I wanted him to put it in writing and sign it, but he wasn’t going to do that. So I accepted his oral pronouncement because it was in front of my wife.
My wife put together the plan for the day so that we could accomplish many things in one day. So the doctor’s visit was first.
Then we had to go to the police station to file a report.
My bank informed me that somebody had counterfeited one of my checks and even my signature for $1,800. How they counterfeited my check as well as they did was beyond me. Fortunately, the bank refused to accept the check because they thought it was a fraud. So they took pictures and even had a video of him coming up to the drive-through.
In the memo, on that check, the guy wrote “bonus pay.” I don’t know what he meant by that, but I sure would like to give him a bonus pay, if you know what I mean.
I spent an afternoon in the bank closing that account and opening another account so they wouldn’t try that again. So the bank encouraged me to take this information to the police department and file a complaint.
The bank where they tried to cash the counterfeit check was in Georgia.
So after the doctor’s visit, we went to the police department to file a complaint.
The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage said, “You can go in, and I’ll stay here in the car.”
That worked for me, and so I went in to the police station to file the complaint.
After I presented my case, the police officer said, “What is your address?”
I told him, and he said, “I’m afraid that’s in the county, and we cannot process that complaint because we are here in the city.” Therefore I had to take my complaint to the Sheriff’s office. It was okay because it wasn’t that far from our house.
I left the police department, and looked for my wife’s car. It was nowhere to be found. So I looked up and down, and nowhere could I find her red sissy van.
At the time, I didn’t know what to do because, as “luck would have it,” I did not bring my cell phone. Isn’t it interesting, I never need my cell phone unless I don’t have it with me?
So I couldn’t text her to see where she was at.
After a while, I became nervous about this. Where is she?
I was tempted to return to the police department and file a missing person report.
Thinking about the whole situation, I asked myself, “If I was my wife, where would I go?”
That sure is a crazy question to ask, but you try anything when you’re in a difficult situation. It’s been over ½ hour, and I still could not find her.
Then one of those crazy thoughts bounced into my head. If I was my wife, I know exactly where I would go. She isn’t known as the Thrift Store Queen for naught. At least, this was something to do.
The police department is at the beginning of a long line of shopping stores for over a block. Perhaps along that line, there was a thrift store. My only problem with that, I would have to walk the whole distance.
As I was standing there thinking of what to do next, a woman passed by, and I stopped her and said, “Ma’am do you know if there’s a thrift store nearby?”
She laughed and said, “Yes, but it’s usually just for women.” And she laughed some more.
Smiling as I looked at her, I said, “Where would that thrift store be?”
“What are you looking for,” she asked, “maybe there’s one I could direct you to.”
I was nervous, but without thinking I said, “I’m looking for a wife.”
“Well,” she said laughing, “a thrift store is the best place to find a wife that I know of.”
Then she pointed up the row and said there was a thrift store at the end of that line. She added, “You’ll find a lot of wives in that store so that you can make your own choice.” Then, walking away, she laughed hysterically.
From where I was standing, I could see something that looked like a thrift store way down at the end. So I started walking and when I arrived at that thrift store, guess who was inside?
On our way home, I couldn’t help but think of the Bible verse in Isaiah 41:10. “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”
No matter what my fears might be, I know that God is going to guide me through that situation for his honor and glory.
Dr. James L. Snyder lives in Ocala, FL with the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. Telephone 1-352-216-3025, e-mail email@example.com, website www.jamessnyderministries.com.