A few years ago we were replacing the flooring in one of our bathrooms. I decided to do it myself, even though I”m not very “handy,” as they say. I had to remove the toilet and replace it after the tiles had been laid. This was something I had never done before.

I gathered my tools together and lugged them into the bathroom. The whole thing was exciting to me. I like trying new things; I feel rather adventuresome when I do. And every new adventure carries with it the possibility that I might be able to write about it later.

Jeanene, who is a little more practical than I, did not see the adventurous side of this chore. She saw the distinct possibility that we could end up with a hole in the floor and no toilet.

“Well you know,” I said, “If worse comes to worse - I mean, in China and some places I hear they just have holes in the floor and...”

“Don’t even go there,” she said. "This is America, and this family is going to have toilets.”

“Okay okay. I was just saying.”

Removing a toilet is a pretty simple affair. You unhook the water stuff - pipes or whatever they call them. Then you take off a couple of bolts and pull the thing out of the floor. I did all of this and was quite proud of myself, I must say.

About an hour later my wife seemed surprised to find me at the computer, tapping away.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m writing about replacing toilets,” I said. I took my hands off the keyboard and turned to face her.

“You can’t believe how satisfying it is to do something physical like this. Replacing a toilet is physical. It’s a kind of, well I don’t want to say spiritual thing but...yeah okay, kind of spiritual in it’s way. There’s a physicality to it. You know, that whole “doing away with the division between sacred and secular” and all that.”

I turned back to my keyboard.

“Also, it gives me something cool to write about.”

Well, yesterday was the first Sunday of Advent, an event that poses administrative/organizational challenges to churches everywhere. And no church is more challenged in this way than Covenant Baptist Church, where we have no paid organizers and the administration is mostly left up to me. People who know me cannot stop laughing when I tell them that.

Well this year we've gone all out for Advent, in spite of the administrative challenges. We even had an Advent committee to help pull it off. And because of their efforts, our worship service yesterday was packed with all sorts of things we normally don't do. Various people were popping up here and there to read scriptures or pray. The music was from fancy, high church hymnals. There were booklets, banners, a world hunger display, and a food basket. And even little rice bowl banks to be handed out to the children, so they can save their pennies to buy food for the needy.

Was I stressed about things? Let me just say this: I had to create a spreadsheet to help me keep track of all the people who have various roles in worship during the Advent season.

A spreadsheet. Me. Yeah.

So of course, the three sisters and I got completely confused and what followed can only be called a comedy of errors.

Let's begin with me. Dressing in the dark yesterday morning, I mistakenly put on an orange t-shirt, which wouldn't be so awful except that I wasn't wearing a tie so you could see it peeking out of my open collar. I got a few comments. But it was chilly, so I didn't want to take off the t-shirt.

My next problem was with my spreadsheet. I did contact over 20 people to find out which Sundays they were available for assorted liturgies, readings, prayers, etc. And I did sort their names and put them in various slots on various Sundays in my spreadsheet thingy.

"Strange Days Have Found Us"
                          ...The Doors

I like days that are unusual and strange. I like days that are out of the ordinary. I like it when some coincidence drops into my life, when the stars align, and when I see things in new ways. I am making no statements about the origin or meaning of such days. I only say that we should receive them and that it's a good thing to keep your eyes open.

Tuesday was one of those days for me.

I met a friend at Starbucks at 8:45 am. While we were sitting there, a woman in the line of cars at the drive-through window fell asleep while waiting for her coffee. People inside started laughing and pointing as the cars in front of her pulled ahead while she sat snoozing in her place. Finally, someone behind her got out of his car and tapped on her window, startling her awake.

“Get that woman some coffee!” said a man sipping from his cup and watching everything through the window.

For some reason I tore a small piece of paper out of my notebook and wrote “A woman fell asleep at Starbucks” on it.

A few hours later I got a call from the nurse at our middle school. Shelby was having some trouble with one of her last baby teeth. It was loose but not letting go, and had shifted so that she couldn't chew or even close her mouth easily. I had to make an emergency appointment with our dentist, whose office is within a few hundred yards of our church.

Ever had something like this happen to you? Yesterday I lost the ability to spell the word "bowl." I was writing away, lost in my focus, feeling the words, when I suddenly needed to write the word for those containers we use to eat cereal and soup.

First I spelled it "bole," which cracked me up. So I backspaced and then wrote "boal." Of course I could tell they were both wrong. I laughed, backspaced again, and was shocked to find that I was fresh out of ideas. I couldn't imagine any other way that a person could spell this word. I tried sounding it out, but I got nothin.

So I sat there staring at "boal" and waiting for the answer to come to me. It didn't. That means there was actually a period of time yesterday where I couldn't spell bowl at all. It was utterly beyond me. I guess I had a brain fart or something. I had to right-click and pull up my spell checker to get it right.

That's weird if you ask me. My confidence is totally blown. I keep staring at "bowl" and it looks like "bowel" to me.

Okay, now that I've actually spelled "bowel," "bowl" is looking better.

I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that I'm on day four of the South Beach diet, phase one? I AM a little light headed. Who knows?

I'll tell you more about the South Beach transition to a new way of eating tomorrow. It isn't a diet! Diets are of the devil. I'm learning new ways to think about food.

And losing the ablitilty to spell.

rlp