Trusting God.

Trying to, anyway.  Sometimes I'm really bad at it.

Last weekend, when Hubby called the Authority Machine for Potential Jurors, his number was required to show up Tuesday morning at 8:45.  We both groaned, and vaccilated between valiantly doing his civil duty, and thinking up ways to reduce the likelihood of his selection.

Magic-marker a swastika on his mostly-shaven head?

Show up in Monday's clothes - which were distinctly "dairy" in their fragrance?

Answer each question in monotone with his name, rank, and serial number?

In the end, of course, the 'valiant duty' option was chosen.  He dressed nicely and took his motorcycle magazines and lunch and drove his work truck - so he could go straight to work when they released him.

Out of the 50+ people that were there, of course, he was one of the 13 that were chosen. *sigh*  And they put him to work shortly thereafter.  After the lunch "break" (which is an hour and a half!!!), court convened (they were given instructions) and they 'jurred' until about 3:00.  They told the jurors to expect to listen to testimony all of Wednesday (until 5:00), and that would wrap it up.

TWO days out of work.  TWO DAYS - which would amount to any and all of the overtime he might've earned this payday - lost.  And right when I'm frothing at the mouth to get our van road-legal! *boo hoo wah wah*

I'm such a baby, I know.  As though God doesn't know when the right time is for our van to be our main vehicle (or, more likely, the right time and way to teach me patience), and is subject to the whims of the Jury Selection Wizards.

By Wednesday at 5:00 p.m. Hubby's backside was really sore, but, naturally, the trial wasn't through.

Today is day 3.  I expect he'll call me during his "break" - when he sits in his work truck listening to satellite radio and eating lunch - and I hope and pray to hear that he's able to head out to a paying job site by now!

Oh that's right - he DOES get paid for his service.  A whopping and impressive ten dollars per day.

___

Update 12:05 p.m.  Hubby called to say the jurors are deliberating, and his number was selected very last, making him the 'alternate' juror.  He was told to 'stay available' but he was free to leave!  He's on his way to the shop, where he'll put his work bibs over his dressy clothes, and start work somewhere, hoping and praying that none of the jurors breaks any rules!