Thoughts About A Toilet & A Stained Glass Window

Last week Ginny and I entered the 39^th year of our extended honeymoon.

Yes, romantic love still survives between us even after all this time.

The secret of a happy marriage?

Ginny says it’s inertia.

To celebrate our love, we traveled to the ancient city of Fernandina, home of the modern shrimping industry on Amelia Island. I’d planned to post all sorts of photos of our trip but naturally, on our first night there I broke our camera.

Now, I could write to tell about the quaint fishing village, or about the historic Civil War fort, or about the inspiring Veteran’s Day parade, or about the exciting archaeological sites of Indian villages, or about the picturesque waterfront, or about the abundant wildlife on the island … but my strongest memory of our trip to Amelia Island will be of the toilet in our motel room.

Yes indeed.

Amelia Island’s fame resounds with the glories of world-class tennis matches, antique car shows, fine golf courses, and gourmet chiefs. But none of those things impressed me as much as that toilet.

It’s the wrong height.

It’s too close to the wall.

If they ever make getting up off a toilet an Olympic event, the athletes will train in our motel bathroom.

I am so glad to get back home to a real toilet!

But enough about that.

Another thing which impressed me greatly on our trip was our visit to an old church for Sunday service.

The congregation was formed in 1858.

During The War enemy soldiers trashed the place.

In the 1880s the building was rebuilt, but fire destroyed it in 1892. The congregation restored the building again.

Stained glass windows crafted by Edward Colegate of New York City grace the sanctuary. Among stained glass aficionados, Golegate’s work ranks up there with that of Louis Comfort Tiffany.

The coolest window is behind the baptismal font on the North Wall. This window (pictured on the left) was dedicated to 36 children who died during one of Fernandina’s several yellow fever epidemics.

And a panel of this particular window commemorates a kid who was mauled to death by a circus bear.

I do not know of any other stained glass window ever dedicated to a bear attack victim.

If I were making a such a window, my picture would show that lovely Bible story found in Second Kings, chapter 2, about the baldheaded prophet, the boys and the two bears. All children should be familiar with this charming tale from the Scripture.

But, apparently Edward Colegate of New York City was a wimp; he did not illustrate that Bible story.

An odd, sad, thing impressed me about the one service we attended: to a packed house of hungry souls, the clergy set up a screen and showed a National Geographic motivational film about recognizing what’s right with the world.

Except for in written portions of the service read from a book and in one song, the name of Jesus was not spoken during the entire service.

Maybe it’s just me being dense and out of tune, but I felt it strange that a Christian church would present an hour long service without so much as mentioning Christ.

It was like going to a fancy Weight Watchers or Rotary Club meeting in a beautiful room.

Anyhow, I thought the bear window was cool.

I hope to write more about our trip to Fernandina over the next few days, but there are two more things I want to mention here quickly:

One: I learned that depression travels well. Mine went with me and returned home thriving as well as ever. Our anniversary vacation trip just changed my depression’s environment. I was just depressed in a new setting. (That low, low toilet seat may have something to do with that feeling).

The other thought that impressed me is that as long as you are struggling with something, that thing has not defeated you.

I’ve written in the past about some of the temptations I struggle with and recently I’ve been inclined to just give up my struggle.

But, whether it be struggling with a marital problem, fat, depression, sin, temptation, or a raging bear — If you are still struggling, you have not lost the war.

Your enemy can not claim victory over you as long as you still struggle.

This particular thought is helping me a lot in my own temptations recently.

I’m down but not utterly defeated.

I can still bite the sucker’s ankle!