Last night I took up my post as a night camper/gymnasium guard at the trophy room of the Julesburg High School. Ah, a great chance to find out about Burt's exploits back in the day. Trophies filling the room with plenty of time to peruse and learn. Lesson learned: your school doesn't really know what your name is. On one wall it might be Burt and on the other 'Bill' will do for the plaque. Small schools also tend to have runs of championship trophies. After 14 hours on duty in the trophy room, I have changed my mind. No one should have or be allowed trophies. My brother in Christ might be Bill, Bubba, Blanche, Burt, or Betty, who cares what his name is as long as it isn't on a trophy! The large trophy room became a small prison after fourteen long hours on duty. And 3 flies in a 600 sq ft trophy room is definitely 4 too many.
My irritation threshold is so abysmally low! Many a person has endured far worse without complaint, well, maybe with just a little complaining. It is so easy to get tired a little and stop praising the Lord. Grumbling against the Lord is dangerously close when the complaints get going. Even if we just stick closely to the facts like, my everything hurts this morning, my eyes are crossed, and I'm pretty sure this new t-shirt they gave me has developed a funky smell overnight, we may want to watch more closely for the blessings God has given in this latest test. For one thing, I'm here to whine, moan, and complain with great energy and enthusiasm this morning. The Lord blessed us with a thundershower last night, our first in quite some time. Cyclists don't seem to be too odd, although that weird headgear began showing up this morning. Blessings abound even in the midst of a trial by hours.
Have a great weekend in Christ!
Bucky (I think. I didn't find my name on a trophy anywhere.)
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