Distractions

If there was one thing that my Granny Tharpe loved doing, other than fishing of course, it was tormenting my Grandmother Rowell. Now don’t get me wrong, they loved each other. After all, their progeny had come together to produce their favorite grandson; and who wouldn’t love that; but they came from different sides of the tracks which set up a not so subtle competition between the two of them.

You see Granny came from the blue-collar side of the tracks where pride was a luxury; and Grandmother came from the blue-blooded side where pride was a staple. Because of this, Granny and Grandma viewed life from different perspectives. One saw it from a lowly little asbestos sided house on Drake Avenue and the other saw it from the height of a three story antebellum home over near the bay.   

Now they both loved the Lord which made them sisters, or cousins at least when they were in the Church. Sometimes, however, just to even things up a bit, Granny would pick on her sister, and Margaret Jane had a gift for getting under Lula Marie’s skin.

Granny could get the best of Grandma every time. You see she knew just when and how to play off of Grandma’s overabundance of pride to be the Devil’s Advocate. As it turned out it was always on Sunday morning. Saint Andrews Methodist Church was their arena, and barbed banter was their game.  

I preferred to stay at Granny’s house for several reasons. Number one, the food was better. Granny was the queen of southern cooking, and Crisco was her king. Secondly, the company suited me better, as well. Maybe it was the Crisco in the air, but things just seemed a little smoother, a little mellower over at Granny’s than they did over at Grandma’s.

My Grandma Rowell had two specialties when it came to cooking. She had Campbell’s tomato soup, and toast. I know there had to be something other than that, but those are the two that stuck to the ribs of my memory. Now don’t get me wrong, I loved my Grandma, but she could be a little starchy sometimes, and the friction produced tended to make this little boy seek shelter on the other side of town.

Because I preferred the company of Granny, most of the time the task fell to her of getting my disorderly rear-end to church on Sunday mornings. She probably would have let me play hooky had she not promised my Momma she would do it, but she promised and because of that, Sunday morning tended to be a bit of a challenge.

You see, I have never put much stock in dressing up. I figured that if I had to go to church and be bored to death, why should I have to dress up and make matters worse. I think Granny agreed with me, but she had promised my mom I would go, so go I did. That being said, there was usually a bit of a tussle so both she and I looked a bit bedraggled upon arrival; but we always made it on time to slide into the pew right behind Grandma Rowell. Not beside her mind you, but behind her. You see Granny preferred a clandestine attack over a full frontal assault any day.

First of all, my less than stellar appearance set the stage just right. Grandma would look back at me with the same disdain that the townsfolks held for Ol’ Huckleberry, but for a different reason. Ol’ Huck couldn’t help it you see, but to Grandma’s mind, Granny should have known better. Well, Granny knew better than to do a lot of things she did, but I don’t think she put too much stock in what other folks thought anyway.

My untidy appearance aside, the real fun started once Granny spied her quarry. She would survey the congregation in search of just the right morsel, and then in a conspiratorial undertone, she would begin her attack.
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I can hear her to this day. Just a bit over a whisper to make sure Grandma could hear her; Granny would pick some poor unsuspecting teenage girl, and make a sideways comment about her outfit.

“Would you look at that, Tony. Does she think she’s Jeanie C. Riley or something? I can’t believe her mamma would let her out in public like that. Would you look at all that skin she’s showing, and in church no less?”

Then, once she was sure that Grandma had honed in on the target, she would never look that way again, content that Grandma was fuming at the poor girl’s mamma and at Granny for pointing such a scandalous thing out to the young boy in her charge.

For the record, the young boy in her charge didn’t mind at all.

It happened almost every Sunday: A hat, a pair of dungarees instead of a dress, a run in some poor girl’s hose, the preacher’s hair. You name it. Granny always found something, and Grandma always fell prey.

In retrospect, Granny was being the perfect Devil’s advocate, because if there is one thing that the Devil uses to get into the minds of the children of God to distract them; if there is one thing that Satan uses to pull the children of God away from what they’re supposed to be listening to or doing for their Lord Jesus Christ, it is the other children of God.

You can say amen to that, even if you don’t want to admit it.

I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Not all Christians agree on all things; but disagreements aside, we are called upon by our Lord to love one another in spite of our differences.

That being said, our disagreements and/or our differences may call upon us to separate ourselves from those with whom we disagree for a time. Because of our strongly held convictions, there may be times when our Christian integrity demands that we go our separate ways. But separate or together we must keep in mind that:

“There is no difference, 23 for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God…” Rom 3:22-23   NIV   

The lost world is watching and hoping against hope that our witness is true. In spite of any differences we may have within the family, we must always remember to lead with love.      
  
19 We love because he first loved us. 20 If anyone says, "I love God," yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen. 21 And he has given us this command: Whoever loves God must also love his brother. 1 John 4:19-21 NIV
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Love, Pastor Tony

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