I usually stick to church subjects on the Sabbath, but I just have to digress back to the weekend and tell you what happened yesterday.
I was wandering through a store when I made a sudden lunge between two large planter pots and threw a large item into my cart. What was it, you ask?
Can I just mention that I have been shopping for this stump for THREE years. I saw a stump like this three years ago and thought I really love that. Love it. But what does one do with a stump? Do I need a stump? Have I budgeted for a stump? Under what part of my budget would a stump fall anyway?
Aren't I prudent? Aren't I responsible? Aren't I stupid?
I left the stump and returned to the store several days later (still undecided) to stare at my stump. It was nowhere to be found. Somewhere, someone in the world had less prudence and my stump.
And I thought of that stump.
I wanted that stump.
I kept my eye open for an affordable stump. For THREE years!
And LAAAAAA, (that is my choir voice) after all that waiting, there was my stump!
So I whisked it up and brought it home.
First word out of the Artist's mouth?
You found your stump.
I think he was happy for me. He showed proper enthusiasm.
But today we realized our little stump's true potential.
When the Dancer started a nice, big fit the Artist said:
Go sit on your stump and think about it.
Does that not have a ring to it?
So I didn't know exactly why I needed that beautiful chunk of wood. I didn't know exactly what I would do with it. Apparently some instinct drove me to continue my search.
This smacks of family legend.
Someday my great grandchildren will be sitting in Sunday school saying, "When anyone in my family misbehaved we had to sit on a stump and think about it."
The legend starts here. Today. On the stump.