Possum Stew, Lox, And Bagels

Possum Stew, Lox, and Bagels

I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do what I hate.

Romans 7:15

It had been a lovely Thanksgiving—crisp and cool, with autumn leaves drifting down outside and Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade on television. My mom had come for a visit, and we’d had several friends over for a more-or-less traditional lunch (in Texas that often includes chips and hot sauce).

On Saturday following the Thursday celebration, I drove to East Texas to take Mom home so she could rest from being in our busy house for a few days. I got her settled at home and then started the return trip the same day.

I took a detour through a town where I once lived, just enjoying the ride, listening to satellite radio, looking at the shops, and admiring the classic courthouse on the square. As I headed back toward the freeway, I noticed a seriously mud-covered, Army-green Jeep parked on the street. I didn’t pay much attention at first, because mud-covered Jeeps in East Texas are normal, but then a sign on the back window caught my eye: Red-Neck Jews.

I almost had whiplash from doing a double take. After all, some things just don’t seem to go together. Do these redneck Jews wear camouflage, work shoes, and dreadlocks? Do they eat possum stew with lox and bagels? I just couldn’t wrap my brain around that apparent paradox.

Then I thought, God probably shakes his head and laughs at some of the things we put together in our lives too. Joy and worry. Praise and pouting. Love and criticism. Some things just don’t go together.

Father, please forgive me for the contradictory and confusing example I must set for those who are searching for you. Help me to be more consistent in my Christian walk. Amen.