My great grandfather came over from Germany and was a Baptist minister, and so was my grandfather. So naturally I was raised in the Baptist church and my dad, who was dead set against becoming a preacher and once said, “I would rather be a garbage collector”, also surrendered to the call to preach and became the pastor of a little church about the time I was 7 years old. But before then, he played steel guitar in a band and was about as wild as you can get. He also worked in an auto body shop and used to bring old cars home and work on them and a lot of times there would be some old junky looking car in our driveway and I always hated being taken to school in them. Once when I was a baby, my dad left a semi tractor rig in our driveway and took the car to Brookport Illinois across the Ohio river and left mom with the old rig thinking she wouldn’t dare try to follow him to where he was playing. But my mom wasn’t scared of anything. She wrapped me up in a blanket and put me in the passenger seat and drove that thing across the bridge. It scared my dad so much he stopped in the middle of a session to take us back home.

Once Daddy finished college for preaching and started pastoring, we moved out in the country and I started at a new school. I wasn’t allowed to wear the same clothes as the other kids and my mom dressed me sort of geeky, and I didn’t want to be different. I wanted to go to parties and be like everybody else. And that perfect little girl routine didn’t sit too well with me either. I was a rebel and did everything I could to fight against being the “perfect” little angel. I wanted to wear jeans and makeup and fix my hair like the other girls. One day I spent the entire morning working on my eye makeup and my dad caught me and made me wash it all off. I put the makeup in my purse thinking I would put it back on at school, but he made me leave my purse at home too. Boy was I mad!

I got the news that there was a visiting preacher coming from out of town and when I saw him, I thought to myself..boy what a putz! He had the poofy hair, the 3 piece suit and the pocketwatch. The whole shebang. I sat behind him in the choir as he and dad stood on the podium before Dad introduced him. I had everything ready. Right when the last phrase of the last song ended, right after the prayer, I knew he would be sitting down in the visiting preacher’s chair and I dropped the fully blown whoopie cushion just at the precise moment and PHHHHHTTTTTT! It was SO LOUD! The entire church roared with embarrassed laughter! I knew I was in trouble, but it was worth it. My dad stood up and said, very calmly and sweetly, “Everybody please calm down, this was a very rude joke and I apologize. I’m not naming any names, but REBECCA SHAFFER you are in SO MUCH TROUBLE!

I wasn’t able to sit down all that week. But it was funny, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I guess that guy will remember it for the rest of his life too, just like me.

A few years later, my dad passed away. He was only 40 but he suffered a massive thrombosis. I wish now that I had been able to tell him how much he meant to me. He was a good man and a great provider. He just worked way too hard and didn’t slow down for anything. He would have been a great internet marketer.

Daddy if you can see this, I love you.