A very holy man who had served for many years in a big downtown church decided to shift gears in his middle-age by settling down as pastor to a small, rural congregation. This occurred many years ago, but this is the way he still tells the story of his first, big, country meal in a parishioner’s home. “The eating was so good, it was almost sinful: baked ham and fried chicken and roast beef; sweet potatoes and mashed potatoes; vegetable casseroles fairly dripping with butter; fresh-baked bread and rolls; and for dessert, hot blueberry pie topped with huge wedges of home-made vanilla ice cream. But all through that meal something was bothering me. I just couldn’t enjoy it. All during the dinner I heard the obvious sound of running water. And it really bugged me. Back in the city that sound was bad news: someone had left a faucet on and the sink or tub was about to cave in. For two hours I heard…
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