There’s a humongous hot tub in our garage. PB and I weren’t looking for a hot tub. I wasn’t praying for a hot tub. We didn’t even want a hot tub. It just appeared. What I really need is a blender. The Hamilton Beach 2001 was a wedding gift 33 years ago. This amazing appliance has been as faithful as PB all these years, but last time I blended something, liquid poured out the bottom and the flooded motor gave out. A blender is what I really want.
A few days ago, our younger son called PB. “Dad, we’re working on this house and they are getting rid of this hot tub and giving it away for free and it’s in really good shape and I said I’d take it. So, can you come with the trailer and get it? Tonight?” Always up for an adventure and trying to encourage our son’s eye for a good deal, my hubby went to go look at the treasure sitting on the curb. Turns out, the mammoth tub was in really good shape and they were giving it away for free and it was a good find. When I woke up the next morning there was a humongous hot tub in our garage.
I’m really torn about this unexpected blessing. I admit my first thought was to put it on Craig’s List and make some money to invest wisely for retirement. I know. Boring. (Somebody needs to be reasonable in this family.) Now I’m wondering: what would it be like to go out my back door and soak in bubbles under the stars? I have never done such a ridiculous thing. Is it even permissible for a pastor to have a hot tub? Maybe if we use it for ministry (or baptisms?) we could justify such an extravagance. But somehow I just can’t picture the church’s trustee committee gathering on our deck in their swimming trunks.
Such a dilemma.
Perhaps if the jets are turned on really high, a hot tub could make smoothies….