The sharp knock at the door jarred Pastor Mark North from an afternoon nap. He had been up past 1:00 AM with an emergency hospital visit and then had gotten up for morning prayer with his men’s group. After some afternoon visitation he had sank wearily down in his easy chair and drifted off to sleep.
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By Rev. Tim Massengale
The sharp knock at the door jarred Pastor Mark North from an afternoon nap. He had been up past 1:00 AM with an emergency hospital visit and then had gotten up for morning prayer with his men’s group. After some afternoon visitation he had sank wearily down in his easy chair and drifted off to sleep.
Groggily he struggled awake and answered the door. There stood his very good friend, Elder Vernon Baker, who was also pastor of a neighboring church about fifteen miles away. Bro. Baker was in his early sixties. Of all the pastors in his area, Bro. Baker had been the most supportive since Mark had accepted the pastorate of his small, rural church a little over five years ago.
“Bro. Mark,” Bro. Baker said with a slight grin. “Sorry to drop by without calling first.” Then he peered closer through the screen door. “Oh, my, did I wake you? I’m so sorry!”
“No, no, it’s alright,” Mark replied. “I needed to get up anyway.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to pick up the kids from school soon. It’s a good thing you woke me. Another ten minutes they would have been calling.”
“Well, then don’t let me keep you. I just wanted to drop this off. I’ve been working on it for a while and felt it was time to share it with you.” He handed Mark a round disk of light colored wood. It was highly polished, about a foot in diameter and several inches thick. The edges were rounded and smooth. On one side, three large holes had been drilled deep into the wood.
Mark eyed the piece quizzically. “Uhhh…thanks! What is it!?”
Bro. Baker grinned broadly. “You’ll see. I’ll bring you some more of it tonight after your Bible study. Can we meet briefly after service? Privately, in your office?”
“Sure!” Mark was still quite puzzled. “Yes … of course. Tonight…”
Bro. Baker gave a slight nod and was still grinning as he turned and walked briskly back to his car. Mark stood looking after him, then looked again at the object he held. It appeared to be solid Oak. He shrugged and went back into the house to get his keys. He’d have to hurry or he would be late picking up his son and daughter.
Stool Leg Number One
Later that night, true to his word, Bro. Baker was waiting for him at his office door following service. The two churches had mid-week Bible study on different nights. It was not unusual for Bro. Baker to drop in, usually after service had already started, and then take him and his family out to eat afterwards for a time of fellowship.
“Thanks for meeting with me, Mark,” he said.
Mark nodded and motioned him inside to one of his chairs. Mark removed his suit jacket and hung it over the back of his desk chair. Opening a small refrigerator under his credenza, he reached for a Diet Coke.
“Thirsty?” he asked.
“No, thanks,” Bro. Baker replied.
Mark popped the top and drank long and deep. With a sigh he eased down on the sofa and loosened his tie. They talked briefly about the service and the lesson. Mark didn’t hurry Bro. Baker. He knew he would get around to what he wanted when he was ready. It didn’t take him long.
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