With profuse apoligizes to Mr. Rodgers, whom I do love and respect. That man taught me so much as a young mom. I will never forget the short film on how linen is made from flax. Made me wonder who figured out how to get the stuff. And the one on crayons is a classic.
It started a long thought process about lots of things, including the conversations you know occurred but were never written down. Like how in the world did Paul meet Luke? And what was the event that had them travel together enough for Luke to write so much down?
Luke has always seemed a quiet sort of guy, and yet he hung around with this itinerant preacher whose pattern seemed to be, come to town, make a speech, start a riot, go to jail, leave town; come to town, make a speech, start a riot, go to jail, repeat.
Now there's a preacher a seminary has got to love. Or someone a pastor search committee would enjoy interviewing. Our cultural expectations of church people, inside and outside the church is such a mess of stereotypes and whacked out opinions that God has to be real to put up us and still love us. We are such self absorbed children, insisting that, "My way is truth, so there."
heavy sigh. and heavier heavenly sigh. I wonder, is God grateful when we finally fall asleep at night so we will stop bugging Him for at least a moment or so? Hmmmmmm.
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