I Smell Manure

My sweet bride and I got to spend the weekend in Lubbock, TX. We were there so I could preach the wedding of two dear friends. In between final arrangements, rehearsals, talking with old friends for hours, and the wedding itself, Mimi and I got to spend lots of time running around Lubbock.

Eight years ago we lived in Lovington, New Mexico. Lovington is a little town on the east side of New Mexico, about 90 minutes from Lubbock. When people from Lovington want to go to “the city”, they go to Lubbock. I made countless trips to Lubbock from Lovington to visit people in hospitals. I took several classes at Lubbock Christian University. Both our children were born in Lubbock. Lubbock holds some great memories for us.

We spent most of this particular weekend roaming the streets. We reminisced about restaurants where we had eaten, hotels where we stayed the nights before our daughters were born, stores we had shopped at, and churches we had attended. The weather was crisp, the sky was clear, the people were friendly, and the weekend was perfect.

Lubbock is a clean, modern town. The streets are in great shape, there is construction everywhere. Modern strip centers are going up in an orderly fashion. We didn’t notice a single piece of graffiti. It’s obvious, the city is going places. The weather was crisp, the sky was clear, the people were friendly, and the weekend was perfect.

Honestly, both of us became a bit melancholy as we thought about Corpus Christi and its dirty beaches, sticky weather, backwards thinking city leaders, etc., etc., etc. We soon started wondering aloud what it would be like to move to Lubbock. Mimi even said, “When we get back to the hotel I’m going to look up the schools in the area and see what we can find out.”

I was with right with her. . . for awhile. I was with her until Sunday morning as we walked out of our hotel room to go to church. That’s when it hit me. I was hit head on with the smell of manure.

No matter how you cut it, Lubbock is a panhandle, West Texas, prairie town. Suddenly, I remembered a few other details about Lubbock. Like the spring-time sand storms. They get so bad that the paint on your car can literally be sand-blasted off. I drove  through more than one storm where I couldn’t see the lines in the road. They’re like driving through blizzards. I also remembered the terrible allergy problems I used to have. It gets hot there in the summer (yes, it’s a dry heat; but, it’s still hot) and terribly cold in the winter.

When all these memories came rushing into my mind, I told Mimi, “I smell manure! Now I remember why I don’t like Lubbock. There’s no way I want to move here.”

Of course, my dear wife took a long, deep whif of the manure filled air and said, “I’d move here tomorrow!”

Lord, help me.

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One response to “I Smell Manure

  1. My dad used to say “Ain’t nothin between Lubbock and the North Pole except a barbed wire fence.” On second thought, maybe it was Amarillo.

    Mac Davis used to sing “Happiness is Corpus, Texas in my rear view mirror”. On second thought, maybe it was Lubbuck.

    Nah, Corpus sounds better.

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