As far as pastor's schedules goes, this one was considered a full day. In fact, my Sunday could not have held but one other teaching opportunity.
I praught in the morning. (Even though I have the helpful red line underneath praught, I'm holding my ground on this spelling. If the past tense of teach is taught, then the past tense of preach should be...?)
I taught at a youth group meeting that night, followed by a college group meeting. All in all, it was a good day. As I prepared for each of these unique meetings, I never saw a common theme building. But at the end of the day, it was unmistakable.
Here's the recap. In the morning I talked about how important connecting with people is in our lives. (By the way, it's Tuesday now and I still believe it to be true.) At my youth meeting, we discussed how to find happiness despite our circumstances. And in the night cap, college students and I discussed our true identity in Christ.
As amazed as I probably shouldn't be, the same theme kept returning. It is a simple, yet overlooked, truth. We never actually know what is going on in someone else's world. We can take steps toward being part of other people's lives, but it also takes them openly sharing their world with us.
I saw it again in my Bible reading this morning. I finished Genesis, which ends with Joseph, of technicolor dream-coat fame, being proved right. It's a story that takes the last 14 chapters of Genesis to tell, so let me be brief in my recap.
Joseph, the second youngest brother, has dreams where his brother bow down to him. It's fine to have the dream, but Joe decides to share it, inciting his brothers to sell him as a slave to Egypt, where God does what only God can, placing Joe in charge of all Egypt during a famine, during which Joe's bros come and (wait for it) bow down to him.
I'm all for God doing the miraculous, but Joe seems to be one of those guys that you wished were wrong every once in a while. I'm just saying.
But just as the story is about to end and you think the scene will fade to black while some tender song about friendship plays, we have one last moment of drama.
Joseph's brothers wonder if, after their father has died, Joseph will hold a grudge and put the beat-down on them. It's not all that crazy a thought. After all, it's probably what they did every time their dad turned his head at the dinner table. Anyone with a sibling knows how that game works. Parents look away and you take a shot at your brother or sister and then shove a forkful of food in your mouth to complete the picture of innocence.
But Joe didn't see this coming. He starts crying. He thought his brothers knew he had forgiven them. He assumed they were all good again. But he didn't know what was going on in their heads.
This seems to be a theme. We wonder what others are thinking. Instead of asking, we assume. Then we act on those assumptions. When this happens, crisis is unavoidable.
Perhaps we could change the theme.
I praught in the morning. (Even though I have the helpful red line underneath praught, I'm holding my ground on this spelling. If the past tense of teach is taught, then the past tense of preach should be...?)
I taught at a youth group meeting that night, followed by a college group meeting. All in all, it was a good day. As I prepared for each of these unique meetings, I never saw a common theme building. But at the end of the day, it was unmistakable.
Here's the recap. In the morning I talked about how important connecting with people is in our lives. (By the way, it's Tuesday now and I still believe it to be true.) At my youth meeting, we discussed how to find happiness despite our circumstances. And in the night cap, college students and I discussed our true identity in Christ.
As amazed as I probably shouldn't be, the same theme kept returning. It is a simple, yet overlooked, truth. We never actually know what is going on in someone else's world. We can take steps toward being part of other people's lives, but it also takes them openly sharing their world with us.
I saw it again in my Bible reading this morning. I finished Genesis, which ends with Joseph, of technicolor dream-coat fame, being proved right. It's a story that takes the last 14 chapters of Genesis to tell, so let me be brief in my recap.
Joseph, the second youngest brother, has dreams where his brother bow down to him. It's fine to have the dream, but Joe decides to share it, inciting his brothers to sell him as a slave to Egypt, where God does what only God can, placing Joe in charge of all Egypt during a famine, during which Joe's bros come and (wait for it) bow down to him.
I'm all for God doing the miraculous, but Joe seems to be one of those guys that you wished were wrong every once in a while. I'm just saying.
But just as the story is about to end and you think the scene will fade to black while some tender song about friendship plays, we have one last moment of drama.
Joseph's brothers wonder if, after their father has died, Joseph will hold a grudge and put the beat-down on them. It's not all that crazy a thought. After all, it's probably what they did every time their dad turned his head at the dinner table. Anyone with a sibling knows how that game works. Parents look away and you take a shot at your brother or sister and then shove a forkful of food in your mouth to complete the picture of innocence.
But Joe didn't see this coming. He starts crying. He thought his brothers knew he had forgiven them. He assumed they were all good again. But he didn't know what was going on in their heads.
This seems to be a theme. We wonder what others are thinking. Instead of asking, we assume. Then we act on those assumptions. When this happens, crisis is unavoidable.
Perhaps we could change the theme.
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