We like to make our own rules, as did another drunk at a roof party who fell off but stopped his descent after 10 feet by grabbing onto a ledge. He grew weaker and pleaded, "Will someone up there throw me a rope?" Suddenly a bright light shone above and a voice thundered, "I, the Lord, am here. Let go of the ledge and I will save you." The drunk thought for a moment, then yelled, "Is anyone else up there?" How often are we like that?
We like to think we're in control, somewhat like the Minnesotan who taught his son how to swirl one of the Homer Hankies that Twins fans love. The son waved his when a light- hitting player came up—and struck out. Then, with a slugger at the plate, the dad waved his: Home run. "See," the father smiled, "that's how you wave a Hankie."
Happily, God's sovereignty goes far beyond that of the doctor who told a patient, "You'll live to be 80." The patient replied, "I am 80." The doctor's response: "See! What did I tell you?" (It was probably that same doctor who told a man complaining of a ringing in his ears, "Don't answer.")
I've now left the wilds of New York City to move into a North Carolina home where wildlife may come into my backyard, so I like the story of a Manhattan boy who asked his country cousin, "Is it true that a bear won't eat you if you carry a flashlight?" The experienced cousin replied, "Depends on how fast you carry it." And I leave you with one other caution: Don't be like the insomniac, dyslexic agnostic who lay awake all night wondering if there's a dog.
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