Laugh or You Might Cry

It was a tough day to be secretary.

At 9:15am I heard the familiar ring-ring of George's cell phone and realized that for the first time EVER (seriously) he had left the house without his cell phone.

I rise to the occassion (a little begrudgingly) and answer his calls.
Secretary for the morning.

To be honest, I only answered two calls.
First call was from a friendly sounding man named Dwayne.

Message #1:
"Please tell George that his Ford Taurus has been deemed a write off.  He needs to come to the garage at the Ford Dealer today to pick up the plates and any personal items that he might have in the vehicle."

In case you missed the story, he got t-boned two days after the fire.  No fault of his own his car was wrecked and is now considered a write off.

His new vehicle.  The old mountain bike, circa 1992.

The loaner: so thankful for Mike, Meghan and the Mazda.

Message #2:
"Please tell George that the demolition crew is at 1895 Blue Heron to tear down the building.  If he wants anything from the building he should go now."

At this point I jump in the van and zip over to George's new temporary office at West Park Baptist to pick him up and tell him the news.  I park my van in the parking lot next to his bike, and run in to grab him.  Here's what I found:

If I didn't laugh, I'd cry. (seriously)
I laughed.

What an amazing office!  (Praise God for our friends at West Park!).
Amazing.
Gorgeous sun.
Beautiful desk.
Fabulous book shelves.

Oh ... the book shelves.
Completely empty.
Well, except for his bike helmet.  Good thing there's space on that shelf for the helmet!

I laughed again.
And then I cried.
I was glad to see that in addition to his laptop he had a box of kleenex on the desk.
A laptop, a helmet and a box of kleenex.
What else does a pastor need?
Apparently not much.

It was a rough day to be secretary.  Two calls.  Two losses. A write off and a demolition.
It's time to say good-bye.
It's time to move on with the new reality.

The new reality:
One van.
A borrowed car and a rickety old bike.
A borrowed office.

Oh, but don't let me for one minute forget the blessings of the new reality.
The overwhelming support of our church family, the generosity of the churches of London, the love of our friends, the gifts from our neighbours, and the prayers of all people.

The new reality may not be what we planned. It may bring tears, it may bring pain.  But oh, let me tell you about the sweet, sweet fellowship that is coming right along with it.

So we laugh as we look at the old bike and the empty office.  It's a fuzzy laugh because there are tears along with it.  But we laugh - starting to see the silver lining on this big ole cloud.