Thursday, May 30, 2013

He Stepped on My Computer!

Kopp Disclosure
(John 3:19-21)



    It was early Sunday morning.

    I was drinking a BP smoothie at McDonald's and deciding whether to go low or high or Gothic or warehouse or pew or folding-chair church.

    When I'm away from my undershepherding call in Belvidere, Illinois and spending time with my parents, sister, and kin in Forty Fort, Pennsylvania, that's about my biggest decision apart from where to eat the only pizza on the planet worth eating: Dough Company, Grotto, Sabatini's, Januzzi's, Serpico's, Pizza L'Oven, Victory Pig, or...

    Go to the right column and click on 10th for FLHTCU for more on that and how an airplane ticket just appears instantaneously whenever I tell my mom and wife that I'm going to ride my pony to Pa.

    Really, I swear in a remotely Christian kinda way that pizza west of Harrisburg is Wonderbread layered with Hunt's and pale Velveeta.

    Chicago hot dogs are the best.

    Truly, truly, I saith unto thee...

    Chicago pizza is like the guy who never plays guard for the Bulls - waaaaaaay overrated.

    Anyway, thanks to a socket next to the window next to about three others doing the same thing, I was charging up my Gateway Computer Notebook.

    That's when it happened.

    He stepped on my computer with the full force of a behemoth who makes Taft look like Twiggy in a Danskin.

    It broke into three totally shattered/smashed pieces.

    Not even the Rayovac Netbook Battery survived the pounding.

    He said, "I didn't see it.  It happens."

    Yeah, I could see that.

    Yeah, it happens.

    Moretheless, he wasn't really, uh, with it, uh, if you know what I mean.

    So I just looked at him, smiled, and said nothing.

    I figured it was time to learn how to use my dumb phone.

    God works in mysterious ways.


    I'd rather ride my pony.

    Buuuuuuut if mom and wife are buyin' and it means a few extra hours with the octogenarians, I'ma leavin' on a...

    Besides, more pizza.

    Of course, I still, uh, don't like to fly, uh, in a plane.

    Why can't I have a whole can of tomato juice?

    Where have the peanuts gone?

    Why did TSA make me take off my windbreaker vest but the lady with the big bulky knit sweater that Taft could have...?

    A load of Eastern Europeans transferred from some international flight to mine and...

    You could have poured gallons of Axe on...

    It was even more toxic than those midnight masses with Ruthie back in 1968.

    Then a little kid barfed on a guy across the aisle and her momma scolded, "I told you not to eat three pieces of Chicago-style pizza!"

    I could have told her that.

    The woman next to me quickly brought to mind several pericopes in Proverbs if you know what I mean; so I pulled out my ESV Study Bible, she opened her Cosmo, and that was that.

    Yeah, I'd rather ride my pony; buuuuuuut...

    God works in mysterious ways.


    "Pray for a Nation in Need of Healing!"

    Baptist church sign near the airport as dad drove through the downpour, mom told me who died, and I sat in the backseat thinking of the little kid on the plane with the stinky Eastern Europeans...

    My mom asked if I ever think about trimming my facial hair.

    I said it's a Numbers 6 thing.

    Didn't register.

    She said, "Your sister says you look like your head is upside down."

    I said Karry and I are going to audition for ZZ Top before Vicki or Leslie file...

    Didn't register.

    My dad said BBPBHO says the terrorists are not real Muslims.

    I asked, "Is that ignorance or deception?"

    He said, "Geez, Bobby, I don't really give a..."

    Yeah, that sign was perfectly timed.

    God works in mysterious ways.


    We went to Cuz's Bar and Grill in Exeter for Saturday night mass.

    Cuz and the rest of Steel City Mafia NE-Pennsylvania-style were in business.

    Lloyd, Russell, Frenchy, and Lipps were getting $25-30 a crack from idolaters.

    I looked for the Asherah pole dancers.

    Being a Giants fan, I felt like an 81er at a rally of Outlaws.

    Despite my disallegiance, I said to somebody my age wearing a number 86 jersey like a Cub Scout in heat, "Ward is my favorite player of all time."

    Orgasmically, he swooned, "Rice couldn't tie his shoes, man."

    My sister's friend confessed, "I think Frenchy just copped a..."

    I understood.

    God works in mysterious ways.


    I like to shop in Wilkes-Barre Salvation Army stores.

    Money goes to a good cause.

    I can travel light by pony...or plane if I tell mom and wife that...

    The young cashier seemed distraught.

    I asked what's wrong.

    She cried, "My son has cancer and he's going to..."

    I prayed with her on the spot; and nobody in line seemed disturbed.

    That was the Saturday morning before the Sunday morning when he stepped on my computer.

    God works in mysterious ways.


    I think He needs to step on more computers.



Blessings and Love!


Jim said...

Ouch! I don't believe I have the irenic spirit to simply smile if a mastadon stepped on my laptop. I think that may be why my lesson seems to be taking so long between calls, I'm still too quick to take offense and get p.o'd at people/stuff.

Speaking of stepped on...I remember, somewhat vaguely, a novel I was required to read while at PTS. The title was "Silence," by, I believe, a Japanese author. The ultimate moment in the narrative came when an imprisoned missionary stomped on a small picture of Jesus in order to spare other Christians from torture. Throughout the story you read of all that the priest would/wouldn't do because of his love for Jesus. No one was going to be able to ever call him an apostate! Stomp on my Jesus and I'll tear into you without hesitation!

But, here's the thing, well actually probably two things: 1) Jesus doesn't want us to loose it when anyone steps on anything, except perhaps if what's getting stepped on is one of his saints. Otherwise we are to remain cool. 2) For the sake of his, we are even to be prepared to step on the Lord himself, if our seeming act of apostasy is the means of delivering others from being afflicted. He can deal with our stepping on him, for his sake, and the sake of those he loves, because even such "apostate" acts cannot separate us from the grip of his love.

BTW, you're right about pizza, though there are southern as well as western limits. As to hot dogs, I confess I've never had a Chicago dog, but if I ever get to IL I will gladly let you buy one for me. For now, my money is on the dogs served up at Johnny and Hanges in Hawthorne (formerly Paterson) NJ.

The Lord bless your day!

(Oh, and I know I'm crazy, but at his prime, I would take Homer Jones over any deep threat in the history of the NFL. Being a Giants fan you are one of the few who would know who Homer Jones is.)

David said...

No mule in my garage. Could borrow my brother-in-law's, but probably won't. Saw one the other day that was the best looking piece of machinery I have seen in a long time: '72 candy apple red Harley! Also met its rider - helluva great guy. Temptation has settled in my heart: not envy or covetousness, temptation. Could almost see myself riding that baby.

Ella Jane said...

Only you can take what everyone else would overlook and see the mysteries of God at work. You've given us a look into the unseen world of God at work!
May blessings overtake you and the visit be unforgettable in a good, God kind of way!

Dr. Robert R. Kopp said...

Ella Jane

Truly, while He sustains my Beruf, saints like you, Kathie, and others who get the KDs encourage it/me.