Went to church this morning. (Family outing. I am - like - an atheist -- but I like singing the hymns.)
So I'm in my best suit, dress shirt, tie, and all. On the way, we go for breakfast. So here I am, arguing about the mutability of human affairs with my know-nothing brother. I pick up my egg with my knife and fork, ready to slide it onto a slice of toast.
In my heated and distracted state, I lose my grip. Here is where I made my error of judgement: instead of just letting the egg fall back on the plate, I tried to catch it with my knife and fork. The egg slides off the plate, off the knife and fork, down the front of my shirt and tie, and lands in my lap.
I look down. The egg has not broken open, thanks be to a merciful providence. But now, I'm holding a tiger by the tail. How am I going to recover from the situation I am now in, and get to the happy state of sitting in church, in my still-clean best suit?
I know it won't do any good, but I pray to god for guidance, in this my hour of need. (Can't do any harm, right?) Into my mind comes the thought that I should try to pick up the egg with my fingers, and put it back on the plate. This is an over-easy fried egg, don't forget -- with the emphasis on "easy". When they invented the word "slippery", this egg was what they had in mind. And the same applies to the word "fragile."
So I try it. I succeed in picking up the egg with my hands, and depositing it back on the plate. Unbelievably, it is still intact.
I say "unbelievably", and that is exactly what I mean. I say it was a miracle. All the members of my family say it was a miracle. The waitress and everybody in the restaurant say it was a miracle. Even my brother, who knows a thing or two, says it was a miracle.
I say god gave me a sign. He heard my prayer, and he made it possible for me to go to church -- in fact, he made it impossible for me not to. If you don't believe there's a god who answers prayers, how do you explain what happened?
In case you're wondering, yes, I was able to carry on and eat the egg.
I'm a believer, now.
So I'm in my best suit, dress shirt, tie, and all. On the way, we go for breakfast. So here I am, arguing about the mutability of human affairs with my know-nothing brother. I pick up my egg with my knife and fork, ready to slide it onto a slice of toast.
In my heated and distracted state, I lose my grip. Here is where I made my error of judgement: instead of just letting the egg fall back on the plate, I tried to catch it with my knife and fork. The egg slides off the plate, off the knife and fork, down the front of my shirt and tie, and lands in my lap.
I look down. The egg has not broken open, thanks be to a merciful providence. But now, I'm holding a tiger by the tail. How am I going to recover from the situation I am now in, and get to the happy state of sitting in church, in my still-clean best suit?
I know it won't do any good, but I pray to god for guidance, in this my hour of need. (Can't do any harm, right?) Into my mind comes the thought that I should try to pick up the egg with my fingers, and put it back on the plate. This is an over-easy fried egg, don't forget -- with the emphasis on "easy". When they invented the word "slippery", this egg was what they had in mind. And the same applies to the word "fragile."
So I try it. I succeed in picking up the egg with my hands, and depositing it back on the plate. Unbelievably, it is still intact.
I say "unbelievably", and that is exactly what I mean. I say it was a miracle. All the members of my family say it was a miracle. The waitress and everybody in the restaurant say it was a miracle. Even my brother, who knows a thing or two, says it was a miracle.
I say god gave me a sign. He heard my prayer, and he made it possible for me to go to church -- in fact, he made it impossible for me not to. If you don't believe there's a god who answers prayers, how do you explain what happened?
In case you're wondering, yes, I was able to carry on and eat the egg.
I'm a believer, now.
