Tonight I experienced something very strange...it's called irony. I was at church because there was a meeting for anyone interested in participating in a mission trip to Joplin, Missouri. At the end of the meeting, we all left the sanctuary and went into the entry hall that has beautiful ceramic tile flooring. My daughter wanted to stand on top of my feet and have me walk around. Everything was fine until we lost our balance and I fell to the floor and hit it hard. Here comes the ironic part. This is a "Christian" church and not one person, not one adult, not one man, woman or child except my daughter asked me if I was hurt. I just layed on the floor like a big, beached whale. Where's the love? Where's the compassion? Where's the Christian spirit? The congregants are sure happy to reach out a helping hand when I'm putting money in the offering plate every Sunday. But when I'm on the ground obviously hurt, the helping hands were nowhere in sight. Oh well, it's all window-dressing anyway. These people "play church", they don't actually live it.
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