I was overwhelmed with work a few years ago when he wandered into my office.

It was an "office day" for me, which meant that I had to finish the weekly newsletter, turn in announcements for the Sunday bulletin, return the mountains of telephone calls that had accumulated the previous day, reply to casual and formal correspondence, work on a lesson plan for Sunday School, do the agenda for the board meeting, send letters to first-time visitors, mail cards to absentees, telephone those who were sick at home, finish up work on a project for the denomination, meet with someone from the Christian School committee, and prepare for several meetings coming up throughout the week.

Additionally, I was in the midst of a grueling seminary course and needed desperately to study and write. That night I would be teaching karate to many of the children and youth of the church.

Without notice, in walked "Jim" and plopped down in the chair across from my desk. "What's up?" he asked.

For the next hour, giving this intruder my undivided attention, I put everything aside and fellowshipped with Jim, listening to him pontificate on nearly every trivial subject, sharing all the things about the church that needed improvement (including last Sunday's sermon), secretly wishing that, if he had no point to the visit, he would wander out again... soon.

Finally, Jim looked around the room, eyed my library, and said, "I wish I had a job like yours. Just sitting in this nice office all day, reading, praying, sipping coffee and talking with people. That would be the life!"

Inwardly, I boiled. I spat out, "Jim, you couldn't keep up with me and what I do."

His eyes widened as he said, disbelievingly, "Oh, really?"

Jim was no slackard. He had built a business from scratch out of nothing, was highly successful, full of energy, and highly effective in his profession.

I replied, "You want to give it a try? The next time you have a day off, spend it with me. Then, see if you still want the job."

Jim grinned ear to ear. "I'll take that challenge. I'm off next Tuesday and I would love to see what's the big deal."

"You're on," I said, as Jim finally left me to my work. The next Tuesday morning I called Jim at 4:30 a.m. "Jim, I have to be at St. Joseph's hospital for a surgery at 6 a.m. I'll pick you up at 5."

"WHAT!?" he shouted. I hung up before he could reply further. I arrived on schedule picked up my passenger and headed to Atlanta.

"I don't think that God's awake yet," Jim growled.

At 6 a.m., we were praying with and reading scripture to a nervous man who had never before endured a major surgery. We spent some time afterward reassuring and calming the family and, then, visited sick church members at Northside Hospital, Emory Hospital, Piedmont Hospital, Crawford Long Hospital, and Georgia Baptist.

One was a new mother who had given birth, two patients were in for surgeries or treatment, one had suffered a stroke, while one person was dying a lingering death. That pretty well took care of the morning.

We hurriedly drove through a fast food place for lunch (we had skipped breakfast) and headed to Newnan, some 60 minutes away, to visit people in the two hospitals there.

During the rest of the afternoon, we saw an elderly lady in the nursing home, a young mother dying of cancer at her home, and dropped by the jail to see a church member's wayward son.

For dinner, we met a couple who had questions about the church and then briefly visited a couple of prospects who had attended the previous Sunday. About 8 p.m., we attended an important committee meeting at the church that was supposed to last an hour but ended around 10 p.m.

As we walked into the parking lot, Jim said, "I'm bushed! I'm glad this is over."

When I headed the car toward Atlanta, he howled in protest. "Remember the man who had surgery this morning, Jim?" I explained. "Well, I need to make another visit after it's over to assure him that he is going to be okay."

We pulled in front of Jim's house a little after midnight.

During our travels, I explained to him that, because he was with me, I did not do my normal prayer time, the Bible study, or the sermon preparation. I shared that I also did not schedule any counseling sessions, I did not subject him to any board meetings, nor did I do any office work on this day.

I wasn't able to work on the seminary course, didn't get the article for the denominational magazine finished, and didn't have any time to invest in my volunteer work as a police chaplain.

I explained that, depending on the schedule, I met with the school board, the educational committee, the youth department workers, the women's council, the men's ministries, and a dozen or two other groups that needed attention.

Often, I would have to meet with one of several denominational committees, attend a class at the police academy, teach an ethics class at the academy, or attend interdenominational functions.

I went on to inform him that I sometimes have to meet with bankers, accountants, lawyers, and officials from the zoning, planning, or building departments.

"And," I continued, "I often meet with people whose sole apparent function in life is to point out what a terrible pastor I am and how I'm not feeding them or attending to their needs and concerns. And, somewhere in there, I need to attend my kid's ball games, school plays, and parent-teacher meetings. On Friday nights, my wife and I have a date... if there are no wedding rehearsals and if no one has died."

"Is it always like this?" he asked.

"Truthfully, no." I responded honestly. "Some days are more relaxed and I get home at 8 or 9. Once in awhile, I take a lunch or dinner at home with the family, assuming their schedules permit it. Sometimes, I have a little more time for study and planning, but this day is not terribly abnormal."

"Well," he said, as he opened the car door, "I take it back. I'm glad I don't have your job."

Quietly, I said, "Oh, Jim, the day isn't quite over yet. If, before 4:30 a.m., I get an emergency call during the night, if there is a heart attack, a stroke, an accident, or a birth, if the police call me out for an officer shooting, a death notification, or a domestic violence, I will give you a call."

Jim remained a faithful, supportive member but... funny thing... he never wandered into the office without notice again. I guess he was just too busy.