Fasting Turnips

October 4, 2022

I Am Fasting Turnips Again.

I am fully convinced that it is God’s will that I not eat turnips. I had an ongoing fast of turnips for over 50 years. I don’t like the taste or texture of them. I was made to eat them as a child and so when I got of age, I decided to not eat them again. This past New Year’s Day I decided to try new things so I tried turnips again. I still wasn’t wild about them but I ate them 2 or 3 times over the period of a couple of weeks.

One day I started smelling an unusual pungent smell in the church social hall. I searched everywhere in the social hall. There was no sign of the offensive smell under the cabinets, in small openings, etc. I even told the church secretary that we had a rat in the wall as I smelt the bad smell in one area.

After about 2 weeks of smelling this smell, spraying air freshener, and lighting scented candles, the culprit was found. We host a community men’s prayer breakfast every Tuesday. One of the cooks told me that morning, “Gary you do know that there is a pot of turnips sitting on the counter that has been there for at least 2 weeks”. With a look of horror on my face, I went over and looked at the slow cooker pot that had been sitting on the counter with some other pots.

The gracious lady who had brought the turnips to a funeral that we had several weeks back had left the pot on the counter with the intent of coming back and getting it. She and her husband tested positive for covid about that time and he became very sick. I am sure that she didn’t think about the turnips or she assumed that someone would put them in a bowl or throw them out.

People leave bowls and crockpots on the counter in the social hall kitchen all the time so it never occurred to me to look there for the bad smell. With the help of one of the men’s breakfast cooks, we quickly pulled the lid off of the pot and threw the contents into a garbage bag that I quickly sealed and ran out to the dumpster outside. But the smell that would peel paint off of the walls was still lingering in the kitchen as the cook was washing out the pot.

If you have never smelt turnips that have been sitting out ruining for about 2 weeks trust me when I say that it could be used as a severe form of torture or replace the method of lethal execution. Forget the needle in the arm just put the condemned person’s head into a pot of this toxic waste and they will die a slow miserable death.

Believe me, that smell is trapped in the portals of my nose and my mind. I have started another 50 years fast of turnips. It was the taste and texture before now it is that smell. So pull my Southern Boy card or whatever you need to do but no more turnips for me. I am sure that this was a sign from God to just say no to turnips.

In love with Jesus – Gary Mimbs

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