Pork is not something we make often and Cindy, forgetting that it is "the other white meat" kept asking, "Babe, is it done? I'm not sure if it's done. Is it done? Look at it, is it supposed to be that color?"
"Babe, it's done," I said poking at the meat, "It's the other white meat. That's the right color and--Mmmm. Yea babe, it's really good. This is good." Our dinner guest agreed, but noted that it was a little salty. In a few seconds, the salty quality of the meat or its color wouldn't matter at all.
As I reached for a bit of my taters I heard a weird cracking noise, a loud pop and Cindy yelling, "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!" Now the details are a little fuzzy for me because everything happened so fast, but I do remember one thing distinctly; looking up at the ceiling fan above the table, seeing its light bulb explode and then saying something like, "WHAT IS THAT! WHAT IS THIS?! WHAT?!" It wasn't the pop, or the bulb that caused my quizzical expression. It was the steady stream of water coming out of the ceiling fan, around the bulb's glass cover, plummeting onto our dining room table and into the lovely sodium filled pork loin my wife had prepared.
By this time Cindy and our dinner guest had scurried into the kitchen with the plates, and I followed close behind with the other white meat in hand. Once the food was safe, like a good husband, I walked back over to the scene of the crime to investigate. What was I supposed to say or do really, water was coming through the ceiling at a place I never expected to see water come from. I couldn't fix it, and didn't want to touch it because I remembered hearing somewhere that water and potentially live wires filled with electricity don't go well together, especially when a person is involved. I called maintenance.
"Yes, hello. Yes, I'm--Oh my name? Anthony. Yea, well there's wat--my apartment number? One-one-zero-six. You see the problem--My building? I'm in the first building and there's water coming through my ceiling fan and onto our dining room table." A few minutes later a portly gentlemen came knocking on the door and we got to the bottom of our dining room now turned water wonder land amusement area. There was a leak in the kitchen above us that managed to make it's way through the floor and eventually through our ceiling fan onto dinner. The leak was fixed but dinner was not, and we frankly had lost our appetites.
We made our way into the living room where for the next couple of hours we spent time talking about the Gospel's work in our hearts, we challenged each other to live out the Gospel in areas we noticed were in need of growth and sought ways to help one another in those areas, we brainstormed and made plans for how we could as a community group serve a newly married couple who is in need of some encouragement in their first few months of marriage, and we prayed for them, one another and our local church community. God had taken plans for dinner and used them solely for His purposes. I am certain that none of that would have happened had it not been for the unlikely leakage on dinner. Praise God, for He does all things well.
For from him through and to him are all things. To him be glory for ever. Amen.
Rom 11:36
And he does according to his will among the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand or say to him, "What have you done?"
Daniel 4:35
