The Ramp From Hell

(First An Update: My doctor’s office called asking for Ginny and me to come in together tomorrow to discuss the results of my biopsy; we’ll know soon).

Tuesday I enjoyed breakfast with my friend Wes and lunch with my daughter Jennifer. What with one or the other of them driving, I rode hither and yon all over Jacksonville most of the day.

Wes and I get together a couple of times a month to talk about theology.

Jennifer reminded me about one time a few years ago when Wes & I ended up literally rolling in dirt on the ground laughing so hard that neither one of us could catch our breath:

I don’t remember just how I met the lady, but as I roamed to and fro over the surface of the earth I’d met this old cripple lady who could only get around by using one of those motorized wheelchairs — but she could not get out of her house without being carried.

Since being a Christian involves a little more than just talking theology, Wes and I decided to build a wheelchair ramp for her.

Do I need to tell you that neither one of us had ever built a wheelchair ramp before… Although, as an experienced carpenter, I did actually hang a picture once.

No problem.

I once saw a preacher’s car with the bumper sticker that said, “My Boss Is A Jewish Carpenter”.

Since Jesus was a carpenter and Wes and I are both Christians, it naturally follows that we’d be able to construct a wooden wheelchair ramp in no time at all…

That’s logical. Isn’t it?

Not necessarily.

We bummed plywood, 2x4s, Krispy Kreem Donuts, and other essential building materials.

We measured and estimated we could nail together a simple ramp by noon.

Our first try at the ramp proved so steep mountain climbers would not be able to get up it; I understand that people slide down ski jump ramps like that at Aspen.

Our second try was not long enough to reach the ground — which made for a four foot drop at the end.

Then to anchor the thing at the lady’s front door, we had to drill holes in concrete which had been poured around 1930; it was real concrete, the kind with flint pebbles embedded in the mixture.

Off to Home Depot to buy a new drill — burned out the motor in the old one.

Our third ramp ran both steep and long. If the old lady had started down that thing, she would have careened across traffic into the bushes on the other side of the road.

Three days later into our construction project, the ramp worked but wobbled. The Disney people wanted to buy it to add to their Pirates Of The Caribbean ride in Orlando.

We tacked cross braces underneath to stabilize the structure. We glued rubberized mats to the deck to slow down run-away wheelchairs. We nailed a banister in place.

Then we stood back smoking our pipes and admiring our handiwork.

“Wes,” I said, “I have just had a vision of Jesus.”

“What!?”

“I just had a vision of Jesus. He was wearing a leather carpenter’s apron and He spoke directly to me.”

“O Yeah? And Just what did He say?”

“He said that if anybody ever asks, say that it was atheists who built the ramp. He doesn’t want His name associated with it”.