Grumpy Grampa’s
There’s a group of people in our little old mission church, in a little town called Milltown, lying in the hills between Yorkshire and Lancashire.
Well not a formal group… not recognised officially , no news letter, they’re too old for the men’s gym praise workout,
Not old enough( in their minds) for the pensioners glee club,
But It could be perceived that they’re wheeled out, three steps behind their wives to support?!’
They don’t preach, play instruments, pray out loud or do anything that would get them noticed.
While their wives all serve the church with gusto, these guys stand by not saying anything, not being able to get a word in even if they wanted to!
Well it was like this, I was sat at the back of the church on Sunday several months ago being challenged as the people came in to the service,
You see, God had his spotlight on,
Ever seen Gods spotlight?
He often uses it to highlight things and people, situations
But annoyingly doesn’t always tell why, and I know seeing it is going to lead me off on a tangent,
This usually starts with prayer, asking God Why?
Every time one of these guys came into church, let’s call them ‘grumpy grandpas’ God was shining His spotlight on him following them to his seat.
Well the service started, life crowded in and the thought got filed to the back of my memory… I forgot.
Now get this clear I don’t do shopping, after fifty years of marriage my wife has accepted not to ask me to join her in her expeditions to shopping,
After years of commenting “that’s nice” to every third question with a sprinkling of “yes dear” and wandering off I don’t even buy my cloths anymore, I wouldn’t be allowed to wear them if I did!
A shout often goes up “I’m having a shower, “ and then I hear clambering and banging of wardrobe doors and clothes are laid out on the bed, such a relief that I don’t have to make a decision of what to wear daily…
Anyway I digress. My mind wandered off on thoughts of its own,
To get back to the tale, It happened like this,
Mary was round at our house organising the women’s day of prayer breakfast with my wife when Steve who had accompanied his wife piped up what about my breakfast?
I half jokingly said “ don’t worry about that, let’s go to the rugby club they do a mean full English!”
A seed thought that would grow beyond anything that a throwaway comment could have realised
Well the women were well blessed with their breakfast, specially when someone had the bright idea to spend the day fasting,
Not me and Steve, after ordering our full English with black pudding on the side we had a little smirk on our faces remembering the ladies fasting!
A couple of weeks passed and I got a message from Steve, ‘ up for breakfast again really enjoyed it last time, I’ll invite Peter he would enjoy it too!’
So the very unofficial grumpy Grampa’s meeting up for breakfast started to grow,
No one in charge, just starts with a phone message, a text , a time, always the rugby club 9:30, nowt religious or formal, or ‘organised by a committee, just a load of grumpy Grampa’s doing breakfast! Some times staying for a hour chatting, last time it was noted “if we stay here much longer they’ll be charging us rent!”
Someone else asked every time, adding to the numbers, the only criteria being grumpy or a Grampa !
And that was, looking back, all the people highlighted by Gods spotlight all those weeks and months ago , in our little old mission church, in a little town called Milltown, lying in the hills between Yorkshire and Lancashire. My home town!
There’s a group of people in our little old mission church, in a little town called Milltown, lying in the hills between Yorkshire and Lancashire.
Well not a formal group… not recognised officially , no news letter, they’re too old for the men’s gym praise workout,
Not old enough( in their minds) for the pensioners glee club,
But It could be perceived that they’re wheeled out, three steps behind their wives to support?!’
They don’t preach, play instruments, pray out loud or do anything that would get them noticed.
While their wives all serve the church with gusto, these guys stand by not saying anything, not being able to get a word in even if they wanted to!
Well it was like this, I was sat at the back of the church on Sunday several months ago being challenged as the people came in to the service,
You see, God had his spotlight on,
Ever seen Gods spotlight?
He often uses it to highlight things and people, situations
But annoyingly doesn’t always tell why, and I know seeing it is going to lead me off on a tangent,
This usually starts with prayer, asking God Why?
Every time one of these guys came into church, let’s call them ‘grumpy grandpas’ God was shining His spotlight on him following them to his seat.
Well the service started, life crowded in and the thought got filed to the back of my memory… I forgot.
Now get this clear I don’t do shopping, after fifty years of marriage my wife has accepted not to ask me to join her in her expeditions to shopping,
After years of commenting “that’s nice” to every third question with a sprinkling of “yes dear” and wandering off I don’t even buy my cloths anymore, I wouldn’t be allowed to wear them if I did!
A shout often goes up “I’m having a shower, “ and then I hear clambering and banging of wardrobe doors and clothes are laid out on the bed, such a relief that I don’t have to make a decision of what to wear daily…
Anyway I digress. My mind wandered off on thoughts of its own,
To get back to the tale, It happened like this,
Mary was round at our house organising the women’s day of prayer breakfast with my wife when Steve who had accompanied his wife piped up what about my breakfast?
I half jokingly said “ don’t worry about that, let’s go to the rugby club they do a mean full English!”
A seed thought that would grow beyond anything that a throwaway comment could have realised
Well the women were well blessed with their breakfast, specially when someone had the bright idea to spend the day fasting,
Not me and Steve, after ordering our full English with black pudding on the side we had a little smirk on our faces remembering the ladies fasting!
A couple of weeks passed and I got a message from Steve, ‘ up for breakfast again really enjoyed it last time, I’ll invite Peter he would enjoy it too!’
So the very unofficial grumpy Grampa’s meeting up for breakfast started to grow,
No one in charge, just starts with a phone message, a text , a time, always the rugby club 9:30, nowt religious or formal, or ‘organised by a committee, just a load of grumpy Grampa’s doing breakfast! Some times staying for a hour chatting, last time it was noted “if we stay here much longer they’ll be charging us rent!”
Someone else asked every time, adding to the numbers, the only criteria being grumpy or a Grampa !
And that was, looking back, all the people highlighted by Gods spotlight all those weeks and months ago , in our little old mission church, in a little town called Milltown, lying in the hills between Yorkshire and Lancashire. My home town!
