we’re all going to the same place anyway

It’s never wise to grocery shop without a list 20 minutes before the store closes. And yet there I was, throwing acorn squash and chili beans in my cart in a mad dash to the only cashier left in Aldi.

As I rushed up to the check-out line at three minutes until 7:00 p.m., an older gentleman and his wife were also attempting to get into line. He was a small man with a loud plaid suit coat, a fedora, no front teeth and a neck that desperately needed a shave. His wife’s cart was relatively empty and so, as you do at Aldi, I told him, “You go ahead,” gesturing toward the cashier.

“Are you sure?” he asked in a thick New York accent.

“Of course,” I responded.

Then I said eight fateful words: “We’re all going to the same place anyway.” Continue reading “we’re all going to the same place anyway”

your pastor, your father

It is not out of line for Lutherans to call their pastors “Father.”

Now before you go all “But that’s Roman Catholic” and “I need a dark corner to rock back and forth in!” and “*faint*” please take a deep breath.

{Unless you’re sitting near a cow pasture and the wind is blowing your way. Then maybe don’t. Not that I would know anything about that.} Continue reading “your pastor, your father”