Finally…I’m back at my old computer, blogging away once again after another long hiatus. Please understand that I’ve been quite busy since my last blog. It all started with a relaxing little boating excursion that I had planned to the coast of Tarshish, just to get my mind off things. I went down to the seaport with my travel brochures, I paid the fare, and then I settled back for what was supposed to be just a quiet and peaceful three-hour tour. At least that’s what the Skipper and Gilligan had told me. But then we ran into all kinds of trouble. It wasn’t long before I realized that this was no Carnival Cruise. A violent storm hit. The sea was raging. The boat was in danger of capsizing. And the experienced sailors were scared half out of their minds. (Not a good sign!) The next thing I knew, the Professor and Mary Ann had thrown me overboard, and I was sinking like a rock into the murky depths of the sea. Then, all of a sudden, I heard this enormous gulp. It quickly dawned on me that I was the gulpee. (In legalese, that’s the one that has been gulped). And, the next thing I knew, my travel itinerary had completely changed. For the next three days and three nights, I found myself lodged in this dark, damp, hot and slimy place. (These were not 5-star accommodations, to say the least. Just wait until hotels.com hears about this!) But, like the Hotel California, I soon learned this place was easy to check into but hard to leave.
Then, just as unexpectedly, I heard a loud belching sound and, with it, I found myself being propelled through the air like a missile, aimed in the direction of Nineveh, a place I never wanted to go. But when I landed on the beach, believe me, I hit the ground running, like the Allied troops at Normandy. Coated in seaweed and amino acids, and steeped in the aromatic fragrance of dead fish, I made an indelible impact on the Ninevites as I kicked off a lengthy preaching tour of their great city. (There were lots of conversions once they laid eyes on me!) Now, after all that—whew!—I’m finally back at my computer blogging again.Actually, what prompted this particular blog was my recent appearance at our church’s annual Fall Festival. After preaching through the Book of Jonah earlier this fall, it was suggested that I portray Jonah for the kids on
Halloween night. So, I put on my “biblical” costume which I hadn’t worn in more than ten years! (Last time I wore it was when I first grew my beard. I had a solo singing part in a large-scale Easter drama we did at my former church in Florida. Sandy had some reservations about whether I could still wear the costume. Hmmm, I didn’t realize that fabric actually shrunk with the passage of time. Fortunately, I could still wear my tunic and robe with room to spare.) I decided to color my hair this time, however. In my mind, I've always pictured Jonah with gray or white hair, either from aging, sudden trauma, or the digestive acids in the whale’s belly. So I went and bought an aerosol can of instant white hair color at Wal-Mart. (Some suspicious church member said they thought I might actually have washed out the color treatment I normally use and just went natural for a change! Some people can be so cruel, can't they?) Well, I sprayed this white stuff on. Man, was it sticky and stinky. And trying to spray it on my beard was a challenge. The big white cloud went up my nose, into my mouth and down my throat. (Cough! Cough!) I almost died of asphyxiation before I even got to the seaport at Joppa.The Fall Festival folks had set up a Sunday School room for me that was supposed to represent a fish’s belly. And, throughout the night, as various trunk-or-treat-ers passed through, I would tell them a whale of a tale about my wild ride from Joppa to the bottom of the sea
and back again. At one point, I was telling a group that I had a feeling that God soon would deliver me from my aquatic prison cell. I said that I had felt the whale’s stomach rumbling a bit and I warned them that I might come spewing out at any minute. One little tyke immediately ran and hid behind his mother, imagining the worst and wanting to avoid being hit by the coming gastric tsunami.Later in the evening, a gang of pirates dropped by to see me. (Where is that in the Biblical account?) Either they were pirates or they all just
got off the night shift at Long John Silvers. Argh! The colorful trio showed up either to rescue old Jonah or to rob him, I’m still not sure which. Nonetheless, there they were in the flesh—the diabolical one-eyed Captain Jamie, loyal First Mate Haley, and the always mysterious Buccaneer Whitney. It was kind of like Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean meets the Old Testament in High Definition. I also had some other notable visitors drop by earlier in the evening—Napoleon Dynamite and his amigo, Pedro. (AKA Caitlin "Brillo" Davis and the mustachioed Tiffany McGregor.) But, alas, they missed the photo op.After my long stint in that stuffy old fish’s belly, I’m glad to finally be free again. No more boat rides for me. The big lesson of Jonah’s life is this: “God’s way is always the best way.” Never forget that. I sure won’t. Now that I’m back on dry land, watch for more blogs in the days ahead.
Pastor “Jonah”
