God is Not Dead...But I Think My Church Might Be
I was sitting in the back pew with my friend Sarah one Sabbath morning. We were studying the sanctuary with its beautiful stained glass windows and pipe organ as the church members slowly drifted in. We watched complacently, legs crossed, arms folded, as the vibes in the room grew more complex. The original few older men who had sat in their spread out tradition-established seats for the adult Sabbath School were joined by their short-haired wives. Soon, a few younger people came in and sat down. Sarah and I observed them quietly. There were no single girls; each one was with a guy who dressed nice but sauntered in like he was extremely bored to be there. The girls all looked like models for clothing companies. I instantly started to wonder how they managed to look so perfect and how I came across to them. Such perfect looking girls must be a different species than me... (If so, I'm glad I'm not that species. They don't look very happy or comfortable. Just perfect. I wis...