Did I, or Didn't I?

Having a vivid imagination can be helpful in writing, but this was ridiculous! I had nursery duty at church yesterday, and as I sat in the rocker in a rare peaceful moment, the thought occurred to me that I might have left the heat on under a pot on the stove! I had invited our kids for Sunday dinner, put a turkey roast in the oven, the table was set and almost everything would be ready when we got home from church. I knew I had set the pot of mashed potatoes into a pan of hot water to keep them warm, then turned it off when it boiled. But shortly before we left, I had reheated it, and I couldn’t remember turning off the burner!

I considered getting someone to watch the babies while I dashed home to check, but when I looked in my purse, my car keys were not there, and Howard had the other set in his pocket and he was involved in leading the service. I sent for Joanna, my daughter-in-law, who was in the toddler room, and told her of my nagging worry. “I know it’s silly, but by this time my house could be filled with smoke!” I practically wailed. She attempted to text my son, Greg, who was in the sanctuary, but before she could send it, he happened to step out into the foyer and she saw him. He was glad to run to our house to check things out.

“Shouldn’t Greg be back by now?” I asked Joanna after 20 or 30 minutes had gone by. “Something must have been wrong, or he’d be here,” I fretted. She didn’t seem too concerned, so I tried to keep my mind off it, and as soon as possible rushed Howard out the door so we could go home.

No smoke greeted us as we turned the corner on our street, and no fire trucks were in the driveway. We found Greg relaxed on the sofa in front of the tv, calm as anything. “Everything was okay, the stove wasn’t even on,” he said. “I figured I might as well wait here, since I was feeling a little bad anyway.” Oh! What a fiasco! Thank you, Lord, that nothing was amiss, and forgive me for my unrealistic fears! We had a wonderful lunch and very enjoyable family time. I’m beginning to think those irrational thoughts that pop into my head at church are a trick of the enemy. It couldn’t have anything to do with my memory!