Having played college baseball, I've witnessed a few ridiculous superstitions. It's funny how guys could wear the same socks without washing them for weeks on end believing that was what ensured their hitting streak would continue. I don't know if it worked or not, but I know how it smelled!
Why? That was the only question on my mind. I cried with my friend. Grasped for any solace I might offer, but in those moments words seem inadequate.
We had this get-together planned for months. The meal plan was ready. Our schedules had finally aligned. This would be an evening where food was enjoyed, laughter was ample, and joy was the air we were breathing. Then it happened. One of our kids got sick...
The desire to fit in is as common to humanity as goose poop on a sidewalk beside a pond. It's everywhere, homes, schools, workplaces, and yes even the church.
Wishing you a very merry Christmas!
Shortly into the meal, one of my teammates got up announced he was going to get some more soda, and asked if anyone else wanted anything. It struck me like a foreign language..."soda"? What is that? When my buddy returned I asked him what "soda" was. He (and most of the others at the table) stared at me like I was an idiot. That is when I realized, what most people call "soda" I refer to as "pop".
Preacher on the Run... 