I’d Love To … But …

While sorting, today through some books, that I am preparing to sell at our e-Bay store or on Amazon, I found some that I decided to keep alongside my recliner so that I could pick them up and read a snippet or two from time to time in my leisure moments.  Among them are “Springs in the Valley” by Mrs. Charles Cowman (also the author of the devotional classic, “Streams in the Desert“, “The joy of trivia“, by Bernie Smith, “Quote unquote“, compiled by Lloyd Cory, “Welcome to My World”, some poetry by Albert Lyon, “Games Christians play: An irreverent guide to religion without tears,“, by Judy Culbertson and Patti Bard, and “Planting Growing Churches for the 21st Century: A Comprehensive Guide for New Churches and Those Desiring Renewal“, by Aubrey Malphurs (OK, this one is not exactly leisure reading).

I anticipate that I’ll share some of those snippets here, for the enjoyment of my readers and I begin with one of them today:

“It may happen at any time, day or night, depending on how desperate the situation is.  You hear the doorbell ring.  It is the pastor, looking for men to do door-to-door canvassing.  Or Mrs. Johnson, rounding up Vacation Bible School helpers.  It is vital for you to have at least one good reason why it is impossible to do anything they might suggest.

To stand there and stammer “Why, I-I-” is to give them the opportunity to answer “Oh, fine!  I knew we could count on you.”  Any refusal after that only creates ill will and defeats your larger purpose.

Think how much better it is to say immediately, “Oh, I’d love to, but I have seven small children under four …”

Or: “My pet ocelot died and we’re holding a memorial service …”

Or: “My invalid aunt lives with me, and she’s afraid of the dark …”

“Oh, that’s a shame.”

“Maybe next time. Do try me.”

But after this happens once or twice, whenever your name is mentioned someone will automatically mumble, “Can’t… dead ocelot … afraid of the dark,” and pass to the next name. – (From: “Games Christians play: An irreverent guide to religion without tears,“, by Judy Culbertson and Patti Bard)