In the annals of embarrassing family moments, comes today’s Funny Friday.  It is only “funny” because it is over and we lived.

 

 

In 1986, I was married to a seminary graduate, proud to have his Master’s of Divinity in hand. We had become the proud new parents of a baby boy 3 months earlier.  My DH had been the “Student Pastor” at a Universalist/Unitarian church in a nearby town for the past year.  I had completed a seminary degree in counseling – I was going to be a great asset to his ministry.  

 

 

We interviewed with several churches within our denomination – The Brethren Church.

 

Some churches were “surprisingly ignorant” of how much money a young family, with college and graduate school debt, would need to be able to live.  Some had “less than desirable” homes that they expected you to live in.  Some had “expectations” of the wife that were unattainable for this city girl.  

 

But we were ready to serve.

 

Ready to be the pastoral family.

 

The “normal” procedure of that day…. and maybe it still is today, I have no idea as we haven’t moved in over 20 years… was to interview as well as preach a “trial” sermon.  Yup – that is what it was called – the “trial” sermon.  And that is how it felt too, lol!!

 

Most of the churches were rural in nature and had been around for a very long time.  This young couple would be joining a very established church family, no matter where we went.  Most of our churches were not located in the state where my DH grew up, so he had no baggage and no one knew him, but he had no laurels to rest on either. Again, no one knew this Kansas Brethren Boy.  Me…. I was a convert…from a Reformed, Lutheran, Methodist, Baptist background… so there was no way for them to know anything about me.

 

The church gathered on a Sunday evening to hear the trial sermon.  But – before that occurs, we gather together in the church basement for a meet and greet with wonderful desserts and homemade ice cream.  Everything was delicious.  We each had a big bowl of ice cream and samples of many sweets!  I am sure he had pie – as his wife, even to this day, can’t make a pie to save her life.

 

Have I mentioned, that I grew up in home that owned a franchised ice cream store?  Well, I did and trust me, I had never heard of homemade ice cream, let alone how it was made.  My ice cream came from a big ice cream machine, that my dad poured some kind of mixture into and it came out the other side as soft serve!

 

 

 

As you can imagine… we were nervous.  

 

We were young.  We had a baby that was probably grumpy because his schedule was off and people he didn’t know were holding him and he sensed mom and dad were a bit on edge.  

 

In those early days, my poor DH, a committed introvert, would get a tummy ache every time he had to preach.  Add to that the nerves of “passing the test” of the trial sermon and his tummy  was kind of a wreck.  

 

And me …. well I already knew I didn’t fit the “pastor’s wife” mold and I had a splitting headache trying to be myself yet fit into a lifestyle of which I had no understanding.  

 

As I am watching for my husband, all the while smiling and visiting with our potential church members,  I see him emerge from the rest room and give me a “look”. It isn’t but a couple of minutes later that we pass each other heading to our respective restrooms.  Not, just once either.  On one of the passes, he tells me that he has been worshipping the porcelain god – not the God he is supposed to preach about!  

 

Great!

 

Oooppsss… now I am sick.  What in the world has happened to us?  How incredibly embarrassing to be “on trial” and be “urping and other things” as the guests in the church restroom?  Did we have the flu?  A stomach virus? What was in the dessert? We were mortified!!

 

Somehow, he pulled together, I pulled it together and lo and behold they offered him a job!  And to add a bit of perspective, 30 years ago we were thrilled to be getting a monthly paycheck of $1000.00!!  We were the Pastoral Family!!  Even though our “trial” was laced with what we thought was a tummy bug.

 

 

Sometime later…. after settling in, we had another opportunity to have homemade ice cream.  You guessed it – in no time flat, we were both sick again!  This time, we had friends there, so we asked “what is homemade ice cream made from?”.  

 

We were told that there are two different ways to create this frozen treat.  One of these ways uses a tablet called Junket.  And that some people, don’t get along well with Junket. Our hosts used Junket.

 

Junket….we are not friends.  Never was, never will be.

 

After that, we always asked if Junket was used in the making of the homemade ice cream.  If the answer is yes, we both politely decline citing some sort of allergy….

 

In case you are wondering – I have since made homemade ice cream, but only a few times. Long ago we sold our electric ice cream maker at a garage sale (hadn’t used it in years, taking up space, need the money) …. we never owned a hand crank one.  These days, should I feel the urge, and I have a few times, I make it in my special ice cream bowl on my Kitchen-aid mixer.

 

Mostly – I just go to DQ or Braum’s or the like….  I know they don’t use Junket.