Come Quick And Bring A Tennis Raquet

One Saturday evening, around midnight, I got a call from a woman in my church — not this one. When her name appeared on my phone at that hour, I was worried. I answered in my most careful voice.

"Hi, are you okay?"

"Pastor, can you come down the hill quick and bring a tennis racquet?"

"What's going on?"

"I have a bat in my kitchen."

"I'll be right down," I said.

When I arrived, she was working her way around the room, smacking every curtain with a broom. Her husband sat at the dining room table with auto parts soaking in brake cleaner in front of him — and he was making a sandwich. I gave him a look that said: why are you sitting there while your wife chases a bat around your home, and why am I here?

He said, "Hello."

On the stove sat a cake pan, still warm, with a beautiful chocolate cake cooling inside. She was smacking the curtains right above it. Dust rained down on that cake like snow. A cat laid on the back of the stove staring longingly at the cake. I imagined it was waiting for a chance. A moment when all eyes diverted it could have its way with the cake. 

"Hold on," I said. "That cake is getting covered in dust."

We never did find the bat.

But the next morning, she showed up for church with a cake for the potluck.

Bless you.

— Pastor