It’s not so much the words, it’s the way he says it,

In “Sister Lizzie’s” voice.

We met Sister Lizzie during the first two years of our marriage where we worked as Youth Pastors in our first church staff position. 

She was one of the many senior citizens in our church and she loved testimony night. She was married to Charles (we think, it could have been her brother. I’m serious). She would vie for the microphone and once claimed, it wasn’t easily surrendered. 

Two occasions stand out in my memory. She always started off in her unmistakeable voice,

“Brother Davis, I just wanna praise the Lord tonight. I want to thank God because my sister has been stuck in bed at my house. I been trying to help her, but it’s so hard. She’s driving me crazy. I greased up her legs and rubbed them down with Vaseline and she slipped right out of the bed! I just wanna thank the Lord because now she’s in the hospital and she’s out of my house.”

I have to say “Sister Lizzie’s” testimonies were a highlight of our time in that little Arkansas church. And that is saying a lot. It wasn’t an easy job, but every time we saw her reach for the microphone nearly every Sunday night, my new hubby would give me a secret smile. 

You just never knew what she was going to say.

And that’s what made it so good!

“Brother Davis, I just want to thank the Lord. I’ve been so clogged up and constipated. My insides are all wound up. I prayed and I prayed and He heard my pleas. I got diarrhea from the Lord!”

And dear Brother Davis nearly broke his neck trying to get the microphone away from here.

The other night my hubby got started in his “Sister Lizzie” voice. He must have known I needed to laugh.

But I should have gone to the bathroom first.

{What makes you laugh? Even when you don’t want to…I won’t ask about your bladder!}