Sitting at lunch with Sukey and Michelle today, I relayed, probably for the 798th time, the story of how I thought Good Friday was The Day God Died. We chuckled at the story. Then Michelle did me one better.
She thought Jesus had an annual life cycle. Born each year at Christmas, grew up to be a man in a few short months, died for us on Good Friday, and raised from the dead at Easter. Every. Single. Year. Rather than live in fear like me, she always marveled at how quickly Jesus grew up.
People Who Teach Children About the Bible: Be very careful how you pick your words the next few days.
No comments:
Post a Comment