I'm A Loving Man!

I am sympathetic, loving, generous, and kind — and I’ll kick the kneecaps off anybody that says otherwise!

Case in point:

As Ginny and I ate supper last night, a guy from down the street knocked on our front door. At the sound of the knock, I said, “Damn! Somebody at the door. Tell ‘em to go the hell away”.

Ginny let him in anyhow and as my supper got cold, he told me that his niece had died.

“She was young, just 32,” he said. “She died in her sleep. When her husband went into wake her up, she wouldn’t wake up. She looked the picture of health but her heart gave out. And my brother drowned last week; he was out fishing up in Georgia and fell out of the boat. Couldn’t swim and went under. Death is sweeping my family”.

As he talked, all I could think about was my supper getting cold.

I must be a super hypocrite because Ginny says I treated this guy with sympathy and understanding.

It may have appeared that way, but my heart was not in it.

I never met his niece or his brother, I barely know the guy himself. His troubles, his family’s troubles mean nothing to me. No more than earthquake victims in Peru or trapped miners in Utah, or Category 5 Hurricane Dean victims in Mexico.

Oh sure, I’ll say a perfunctory prayer for such people, but I don’t get all worked up over their plight.

This should bother me more than it does.

Yet, in times past, I’ve prayed for Christ to give me a loving heart.

He must have put that prayer on the spike to be gotten around to later.

Maybe I should amend my prayer to ask for a conveniently loving heart, one that won’t let my supper get cold.