About a month ago, my friend Colby came over for a music lesson. No, I don't give lessons to children, much less adults (much to Ben's chagrin), but Colby is an art teacher, and we worked out a deal. He teaches me art stuff, and I teach him music stuff.
So I was sitting at my kitchen table with the stereo playing loudly waiting for him to get here. The doorbell rings.
"COME IN," I yell.
No answer. Then the doorbell rings again, but this time he pushes the button for a reeeeally long time. Smarty pants.
"OPEN THE G. D. DOOR!" Even louder I yell this time. (No I did not say the real words. Still, Lord, I apologize.)
No answer. Now he's just playing around with me.
I hop out of my chair and go to the door to let Colby in. Except it's not Colby. It's a missionary. Wanting to tell me about Jesus and pray for me.
I think I need it.
HOLY HOLLA -
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