Sunday, July 15, 2007, 8 A.M.

The work week was butchery. Because we’re down six drivers, Pepsi is heaping extra stops and cases on those of us who remain. For me, that translates to several additional stops in Salisbury on most days. And even with 12-14 hours on the clock, going as fast as I can, I’ve still been one of the lightest-loaded trucks. This coming week we’ll be down two more drivers: one has quit and the other will be on vacation.

For three months now I’ve been writing on my daily driver’s report that my truck needs a new starter. For three months the maintenance guys ignored the message; one even said he checked the starter and couldn’t find anything wrong with it. On Friday the truck finally died and left me stranded behind Bridgeville’s Fire Hall. I had to sit and wait over an hour for TC, the maintenance dude, to come out and help me get the engine started.

Once the truck was running, I asked him, “So, what was it? A loose wire or something?”

He mumbled.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“We’re probably gonna have to put a new starter in her,” he said.

“No way,” I said. Boy, was I shocked. I called my boss right away to tell him how on-the-ball the maintenance guys are. “Pepsi is running a well-oiled machine here, that’s for damn sure,” I said. "Next time this happens, I'm going to shit in this truck, leave it right where it is, and go home."

"Please don't do that," he said. But I made no promises.

After I’d blown some sarcasm, I made my last five stops and finished my route, finally clocking out around 7:30.

I wish Jessica would have the baby so I could take a week off. Yeah, a baby disrupts your life and all, but a baby ain’t heavy.

Yesterday I felt pretty wasted by life and just sat on my ass, doing nothing. The pastor interrupted my zen laziness when he phoned and inquired about the men’s meetings. I told him some of the stuff we’d talked about and he told me to be careful “we don’t get a critical spirit.” Which is probably good advice, but which I also don’t understand. Maybe an advantage to pretense is that you can also be considered uncritical?

I understand where he’s coming from, I think. I’ve seen church splits, divisions, and denominations. I’ve heard the news from Iraq.

Group A gets dissatisfied with how things are going. They express their concerns to Group B. Group B says, “What the hell’s wrong with you? Everything’s great!” Group A gets stomped, silenced, pushed out, or murdered; so they go across town and start a new church or country or whatever.

Well, bleh. My name’s not Absalom. Leading any kind of rebellion is not my forte, not my interest. All I want to do is sit and play video games with my son, truth be told. I never wanted to lead a men’s group in the first place. I never wanted to be honest.

It’s what I got forced into. By God. I didn’t want to be part of a men’s group, but I needed to be a part of one, or at least to have meaningful connection with brothers.

My assessment of the thing so far is that some guys are encouraged and have appreciated the opportunity to share more of themselves, and others feel threatened by the experience because it has potential to really shake things up in their lives and in the church.

But I don’t want to cause problems with my critical spirit. I could just sit in a dark corner eating gummi worms, watching the show and praying for a miracle: for the church to somehow get out of the way and let Jesus through the freaking door.

I’ve always been disheartened and dissatisfied with the “church experience.” Poor Jessica has gotten an earful almost every week I’ve gone to church for ten years now. She says she thinks a lot of the inner tension I feel regarding church is from the Lord, but I don’t know.

I don’t know anything. That’s the problem. I only know what’s painful. I want to avoid pain. Church is often painful because it feels like we’re all puppetmasters trying to get the dry bones to look like flesh, and the flesh to look like spirit.

What’s God’s angle here, man? I was telling Jessica yesterday that the only reason we’re staying in this area is because of the church. I’d really like to move to North Carolina and be near my mother, brother and sister. My family. Drivers are in demand, and I could get a dead-end job like I’ve got now anywhere in the country, especially in North Carolina.

But God keeps me here. He’s set me in the church. Why?

Anyway, enough of that. Yesterday while I was sitting around doing nothing, I did one thing at least. I finished an excellent book called Messy Spirituality, by Michael Yaconelli. Don G loaned it to me last Sunday, and it was profound in its simplicity. I read good portions of it out loud to Jessica while she was cooking and washing dishes and we both blubbered and snotted because the grace of God is so amazing, unfair, irresistible, dogged, and awe-inspiring. He loves us, and He never stops.

I will close to pray for grace to embrace His will today.