Have I disappointed my parents who took me to church on Sundays? Is it possible for spiritual devastation, if they reside in heaven, hear my questions and read my thoughts, God’s mighty hand striking my soul dead? Will I ever see them again?
My parents were not truly believers in the sense of commitment other than finding a pew to sit and listen. My dad’s eyes tilted downward, us kids squirming in our Sunday best, mom’s face, well I bet you can guess. Sitting there, trying to behave, I swear my tights had ants crawling around inside, looking for their home. Had I stepped on their nest, they hitching a ride to some where?
Reading the Bible, a verse clearly stands out regarding the mighty ant, much like an Aesop fable, informing the reader clearly to be diligent and proud as an ant. Be busy as the ants…
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