The other day I wore a Polo shirt. I usually only wear button-down pinpoint oxford shirts. My daughter Reagan commented on it and complimented me that she liked the shirt as we walked to the car from lunch.
I told her, “I like Polo shirts, but I don’t like to wear them when I’m this fat. They make my belly look even fatter.”
(They do! It's embarrassing!)
As we’re pulling out of the parking lot Reagan started giving me a stern lecture, “Dad, I don’t say “fat” anymore because it’s kind of mean and it hurts people’s feelings. I just don’t like using that word... ..ya’know, words can hurt…”
She was very earnest and very concerned. Just then we pulled around the back of the restaurant where an overweight staff member was changing his shirt by the back door.
Reagan saw him and squealed at the top of her lungs, “Oooooooh Dad! Look at that fat guy taking his clothes off! Even his boobies have boobies!”
I laughed so hard I almost wrecked the car.
The apples just don't fall far from the tree, do they? It was "my righteousness" in a snapshot...
"How then can we be saved?
All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away. No one calls on your name or strives to lay hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us and made us waste away because of our sins.
Yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand. Do not be angry beyond measure, O Lord;
do not remember our sins forever. Oh, look upon us, we pray, for we are all your people."- Isaiah 64:5-9
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