My mom, sister
and I went to Denmark. After getting settled in with family friends, we decided
that in the morning I would get rundstykker (hard rolls) from the bakery. I’d
have to leave early because they sold out quickly. In the garage, I was shown a
bicycle I could use.
Jet-lagged, I
went to bed early. When I woke, the sun was shining. I rushed to get ready and
ran to the garage. As I wheeled the bicycle out the side door, I noticed that
the big door was open and someone was dinking under the hood of their car.
Thinking it might
be a thief, I challenged him with a hello. The man responded, “What are you doing?”
I explained that
I was going for rundstykker. He asked how far away I thought the bakery might
be. I told him, “About six blocks.”
“Are you our
house guest?” he asked.
“Are you Mr. Nelleman ?” I asked.
“Call me Bill,” he
said smiling.
“I’m Peter.”
“Do you know it is only three in the morning?”
I had no idea the
sun rose so early in Denmark
“Even bakeries
don’t open this early,” he said. “I think you can probably sleep a little
longer.”
At breakfast,
several hours later, when we both explained that we thought that the other was
a thief, Lasse asked, “Bill, what were you doing in the garage at that hour?”
“Oh, I was just
under the bonnet repairing your trumpet.”
No matter what
you call it, horn or trumpet, we use it to sound the alarm, give a friendly
toot, or improperly, to show displeasure and frustration. Today the trumpet
blows as a warning to God’s people, but, not long from now, the trumpets will
blow on the third day in celebration of God’s eternal presence with us.
(If the exhaust
from your car looks like the smoke from a kiln, see your local mechanic.)
Prayer
Lord, we thank
you for caring about our safety and for the horns of alarm, and we thank you
also for the joyful sound of horns and trumpets that herald in new times of
hope and pleasure. Amen
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