"God writes straight with crooked lines"

When I see the screen on my cell phone flashing the name, “Jumbo”, I cringe. Now, please don’t get me wrong, Jumbo Feeney and I have been best friends since Hector was a pup. I love the guy but—sometimes he just drives me nuts. Why? Because he has a unique opinion on every topic known to humankind. I mean this 6’4″, 250 pound, ruddy faced bruiser with hands the size of ham hocks knows it all. Anyway, when I see his name staring at me from that little screen I usually do not answer because I need some time to pray and mentally prepare for the event. It usually takes about ten or fifteen minutes and then I return the call. If I just answer he is already in mid-sentence and I will not have a clue as to what he is talking about and he’ll want my opinion even though he never hears it anyway. Then he’ll bust out in his raucous, deep belly laugh and–well, trust me, it is an experience.

So Saturday morning I see Jumbo’s name flashing on the cell phone screen. What do I do? I ignore my own rule and answer the phone. As I flip open the phone I call myself an idiot and then begin to listen because Jumbo is in mid-sentence. “Petie, (he calls me Petie) you’re sitting down, right? I mean this is BIG—really BIG.”

He starts laughing and I don’t sit down. “C’mon Jumbo, what? What is it?”

“Guess where I’m going tomorrow? C’mon man, guess.”

“NO idea Jumbo. I do know where you’re not going.”

“There you go Petie, you think you’re so smart. Well, guess what? WRONG! I am going. I am going to Mass tomorrow. Think you’re so smart. Well, gotcha.”

“Gotcha” was a good word. Jumbo had not been to church in, who knows, a VERY longtime. Throughout all of those years, he has been trying to convince me that whether a person went to church or not made no difference in their spiritual life. I had always held my ground and refused to discuss the topic with him. His talking to me was his way of trying to convince himself he was right, so—I just would listen. It was not easy, trust me. I was guessing that he had finally convinced himself that he was wrong.

“Petie, you there? Say something. Anything. Hope the news did not make you drop dead or something.” More raucous laughter.

“Uh, no Jumbo. Just have a few chest pains and I’m hyperventilating a bit. Otherwise. I’m fine. So tell me, what happened. It’s been a long time for you.”

“Yeah Petie, that’s for sure. A long time. I just think it’s time for me, that’s all.”

“Jumbo, God writes straight with crooked lines, doesn’t he? We all follow our own path. I’m not saying anything. I’ll call you Monday and see how it went, okay?”

“Petie, you didn’t ask me if I went to confession.”

“Not going there Jumbo. None of my business.”

“Good job, Petie, good job. That was just a little test for you anyway.”

“Hey Jumbo.”

“What?”

“Love ya man.”