Worrying and Wildflowers


Or so I heard when I first moved to the Lone Star State. I looked over my shoulder every time I pulled up a few, wondering when I was gonna feel a shotgun blast to the back of my head. Was having a vase-full of little Lupinus’ making me out to be some type of fiendish flower-foraging felon?

I worried about this for no reason because it turned out to be a big ole myth. Think about how many other silly things Christians worry about that end up being nothing?

Former baseball player Mickey Rivers said this: “Ain’t no sense worryin’ about the things you got control over, ’cause if you got control over ’em, ain’t no sense worryin’. And ain’t no sense worryin’ about the things you don’t got control over, ’cause if you don’t got control over ’em, ain’t no sense worryin’.”

Thar’s a Scorpion in My Bed!

I found something in my sheets the other night that was way worse than a horse’s head…yes, my Texas nightmare came to pass!

I was sound asleep for about an hour and a half when I felt something at my toes, so, I pushed it away with my feet. I tried to think of something else, like baseball, or imagined that it was a wrinkle in the sheet. The thought of what it could be was too much for me to handle in my groggy state of mind. Still, I tried to go back to sleep and convince myself it was only a nightmare.

A few seconds later a huge pain shot out from my hamstring right behind my knee. Wide awake now, I quickly turned on my reading lamp to see what got me as I pushed the covers off hurriedly, only to discover a scorpion scurrying away atop the sheet. Then, after a few seconds of light, the lamp bulb broke.

Dark. Still out there. Somewhere. Laughing.

Furiously, I tried to turn on my nightstand lamp, but, panicked, knocked it over into the trash can. I jumped out of bed rubbing the back of my leg and turned on the overhead room light. Frantic now, I yanked off all the covers, sheets and pillows, threw them to the floor and prayed that God would show me the culprit. Frustrated, I let out an anguished, unholy expletive and wondered how Jesus could allow this to happen to me. Worse, why did He ever create such a useless, ugly, sneaky-stingy-thing in the first place?

Deer Hunting in Slippers

Waking up about 6:30AM Sunday morning, I put water on the stove for my coffee then went outside to throw some deer corn. After brushing my teeth, and making the java, I looked out the front window and saw two bucks about 150 yards in front of my home. Because another house was just a few hundred yards behind them, I asked the Lord to move the deer to the side of my yard where it would be clear shooting.

Walking back to my bedroom, I grabbed the .30.30 under my bed, put two bullets in it, and, still in my pajamas and slippers, saw that a seven-pointer had moved to the side eating his deer corn. Standing on the front porch again, I raised my rifle to sight him in…but he was looking straight at me, unperturbed! I asked the Lord to turn him around so that I would have a nice heart shot.

He did.

I tied a rope around his hind legs and hoisted him into the back of the church Suburban. After finishing my cup of coffee I whisked him over to one of our church members to have him field dressed. (No, I haven’t learned to do this yet.)

After he was cleaned, I went to our local processor and left him in the cooler where I’m hoping to get about 50 pounds of jerky and dry sausage.

Rushing to church, I took a quick shower, dressed—then preached the Word at our Sunday service.