Man's Worst Fear

Warning: The following is rated PG for adult subject matter. Reader discretion is advised.

Admittedly, I fear many things. I refuse to go swimming in the ocean for fear of getting eaten by a shark. The idea of getting on a boat of any kind makes me nauseous. I am terrified of snakes. Though I'm a seasoned traveler, I pray fervrently every time I board a plane and recite Psalms 23 during every takeoff. I believe in ghosts...and while I'm not afraid of them, I can make myself sick over the anxiety of possibly encountering one (remind me to tell you about my encounter some time -- and no, it's not a "ghost story").

While I, personally, fear all of those things...there is one fear that every single one of us bears in common. It's the fear of something so heinous, so unpredictable, and so terrifying that we dare not speak about it in public. While it has never happened to me, I was on-hand to witness this unfortunate set of circumstances as it preyed upon one of my co-workers. This person shall remain anonymous to save him from the guilt, ridicule and shame that accompanies such misfortune. Instead, I shall refer to him as "D.P."

Aaron Burtch, DP and I were in Houston for ACU recruiting purposes. Instead of staying in a hotel on our Houston visits, we are privileged to stay in the home of one of our trustees, Mojo & Holly Lewis. Mojo is a world-renowned cosmetic dentist, and his home is immaculate. While there, Aaron, DP and I are given free reign of their upstairs. Each bedroom has its own bathroom, so we rarely see each other until it's time for us to depart on our next mission.

On our first morning, both Aaron and I were downstairs in the kitchen visiting with Holly over breakfast. David had disappeared upstairs to shower and finish getting ready. As we're visiting Aaron notices that a box of cereal that is sitting on the bar has slowly started to move...as though it were drifting at sea. Intrigued by this phenomenon, Aaron starts moving toward the bar to get a closer look...when he notices that the cereal box is, in fact, drifting on a small pool of water.

He quickly realized the water is not from a spill on the bar. Instead, the water has dripped through the light fixture hanging from the ceiling...a light fixture that happened to be directly beneath the room that DP is staying in.

I sprint up the stairs and knock on the door to the room that Pittman is in (oops, I mean "DP). No response. I knock again. Still no response. Thinking he might be in the shower I open the door...and I'm greeted by a horrific sight.

A frantic (and naked) DP, holding several towels, is staring in disbelief at the toilet in his bathroom. I quickly assess the situation, but DP's sorrow-filled proclamation confirms my fears: "I overflowed the Lewis' toilet." (A more accurate term would have been "clogged," but that is a detail better left for another time.)

I turn to go back out the door when I hear Holly and Aaron coming up the stairs. Holly, remarkably calm at the fact that her guests are flooding her kitchen, asks, "Is it the shower?" I cast a glance of despair towards Aaron. His face sinks, and he plugs his ears with his fingers as I solemnly reply, "Uh, no."

Holly wheels and returns to the kitchen anxiously searching for antiseptic. I call to the fleeing Holly, "We'll need a plunger," as Aaron and I both return to see if we can be of any assistance to David (oops, I mean DP). He is now down on all fours desperately trying to keep the tsunami he has created from reaching the carpet. Aaron and I sit there dumbfounded, overcome by both the situation and the resulting "aroma."

Moments later there's a knock on the door. Holly has returned with both a plunger and a laundry basket. We pass these materials onto DP and quickly exit the room to help with the downstairs clean-up process.

It's at this moment that Aaron and I realize we are running extremely late for our appointment...and DP is nowhere near being ready. Holly, overhearing our exchange, says, "Tell David to give me the towels, and I'll finish cleaning up down here."

God INSTANTLY vaulted Holly Lewis to the highest ring of Heaven. This woman was volunteering to clean the soiled linens resulting from a clogged toilet. About 10 minutes later a fully dressed DP emerges with a large laundry basket filled to the brim with "gross" towels. Holly, the mother of 5, grabs the towels from David without thinking twice and tells us to hurry on our way.

Needless to say for the next two nights that we were at the Lewis' all three of us made the trek down to the local convenience store when Nature called.