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Showing posts from March, 2016

Still

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The coffee shop where I grab my daily “joe” has a parking lot that is literally an accident waiting to happen. Traffic is allowed to go both ways even though there is only enough room for one car to pass. The drive-through blindly shoots out where people enter and exit the building. The turns in and out of the parking lot are too tight for most cars. All of which makes getting a cup of coffee a much more exciting escapade than it need be.
This morning the perils of the parking lot were on full display. I pulled in while a car in the drive-through was pulling out. Meanwhile, a customer was entering the store. The customer was caught between us. I saw him and stopped. The other driver did not. Luckily, he saw her. He waited until she drove by and then entered the crosswalk. As he passed behind her car, she remained oblivious to his presence. He was irked.
“HEY!” he shouted violently. “Watch out! Pay attention! What’s wrong with you?!” (His language was a bit more colorful and “religi…

Ours

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When my kids are behaving badly I jokingly inform my wife that they (our daughters) are hers.
Your kids are acting up again.”             “Your kids are making another mess.”             “Your kids are making too much noise.”
Needless to say, she doesn’t think it is as funny as I do.
They’re yours too,” she reminds me each time with a blissful tone in her voice and a stinging look in her eye. “They’re yours too.” At which point I realize that I cannot avoid doing something with them – about them – for them.
There’s a story in scripture traditionally labeled “The Prodigal Son.” It is the story of two sons. The elder son is faithful, obedient, hard working and patient. The younger son, well, not so much. He’s brash and demanding. He insists on his half of the inheritance far before it is due and then squanders it in dissolute living.
Penniless and poor, broke-down and broken he decides that he’d rather be a slave in his dad’s house than a beggar in a sty (literally). So, he heads fo…