This morning, I took Dad to church. I always feel a little tense because he can be very opinionated in church. Loud, too. It’s like trying to sit quietly, up front(!), with a four-year-old, who feels the need to point out the considerable girth of a few individuals…and the wild hair style of the singer lady.
As the sermon began, Dad reached down to pull out the pew Bible.
Now, my dad can’t tell time, he can’t remember to shave, he can’t really have a conversation that makes any sense, and he often slips up our names.
But that man whipped open the Bible, paged through the New Testament, stopped at the book of Acts, thumbed through Romans, found 1 Corinthians…realized he wanted 2 Corinthians, and zeroed in on Chapter 1, verse 3. Just the right text for the sermon.
Amazing! The mind is such a mysterious thing. But, then again, the Bible is no ordinary book.