RUST ON MY SOUL (33rd in Series)

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Added to each Tuesday…GO BACK TO APRIL 13TH AND START THE SERIES.

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On Thursday a variety of other subjects are covered.
Currently each Sunday there is a series on PRAYER
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RUST ON MY SOUL (A Novel) (Published by Bridge Press in 1985 & Distributed Internationally) (A new Series that began on Tues April 13th and will continue every Tuesday thereafter until finished) (Thursday & Sunday will continue to cover a variety of subjects as in the past)
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INTRODUCTION (Repeated for those new to the series)

In an old loose leaf notebook, Thomas Kettering wrote when there was a cry from his heart. He wrote when his inner longing spilled over into the reality of his days. He did not write every day, only when he felt he must. How often he wrote or when is not important. The journey is what counts, for it is a diary about all of us, to all of us. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” and even a stumble is a step.

Late afternoon

Interviewing people for the vacancy in the warehouse today was depressing. The applicants all had diplomas that implied they have an education; in reality for many it was only an attendance record.

What had they learned? Not much, as far as I could tell. My dad had a dog who used to go to the old one-room schoolhouse with him and lay just inside the door through many an hour of tutoring, but they never gave the dog a diploma.

One young man took as long to fill out his application as O. Henry probably took to complete one of his short stories. He’d bring the same inefficiency to a bill of lading. If we hired him we’d drive him and ourselves crazy requiring more than he was able to deliver.

So I didn’t hire him and he remains another unemployment statistic. I’m sorry he had teacher who couldn’t teach or parents who didn’t motivate him but that doesn’t excuse him for being a student who wouldn’t learn.

I don’t highly recommend a school system that graduates ever boy and then ask the business community to employ the illiterate and the ill prepared

Afternoon

I was flattered. He remembered me and it’s been thirty years. I remember him. He was one of the few preachers who made sense to me. Yet in my college days even that never got me to church too often.

I reminisced how he used to call his sermons Trade Routes.

“Still do. You can’t get anywhere without a route,” he said.

He’s hardly changed. The eyes are a little tired, but still rainy-day grey, almost hidden by heavy lids. His face still shows leanness though age has made it a little less firm.

It was a chance meeting. We had bumped shoulders while reaching for the same book in the library. I’d read of his appointment on the church page. I’d even considered giving him a call. Most like I wouldn’t have.

“I’ll have to come hear you preach.” It was just a polite phrase and he knew it.
“Hopefully, Tom. Hopefully.”

There’s been a hiatus on home building for quite some while, but nowhere near as long as the building repairs needed for my soul.


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TO BE CONTINUED NEXT TUESDAY (If You Missed the beginning on Tuesday April 13th
GO BACK AND CATCH UP

A new Series on PRAYER began sun Nov 21

Each Tuesday there is a continuation of the Serialization of his Internationally distributed novel RUST ON MY SOUL.

To view an abundance of unusual stories by Neil Wyrick go to his other blog ONE A DAY, YOUR SPIRITUAL VITAMINS

Click on the following URL http://oneadayyourspiritualvitamins.blogspot.com/

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