"Like many a Christian before them, Mama and the Elder justified their machinations with Christ's famous sentence: "I came not to send peace, but a sword." And like many a Christian before them, they completely forgot that the only sword-shaped weapon Jesus actually used was the one He died on."
Simple, perennial, and profound.
"Only the written can truly live a life.
So who I was, what I was, had to be unwritten."
And so many times in my life I've gotten myself all "written" up, scribbled here and there, when I needed to be a blank page, waiting and ready and open.
"She tried the easy route first: scrunching up into an even tighter ball, she whimpered, 'Dear Jesus. Help!" The result was instantaneous.../'Phooey!' Bet said with a sudden strength born, I guess, of exasperation with her fear and helplessness. But...who's to say her prayer hadn't invoked Him so fast that both the exasperation and the phooey came from the Christ in Bet as He moved the frightened child gently aside, in order to help?"
Phooey prayers are just as valid - maybe more so.
More thoughts about the Christ in us, as seen through the eyes of a child.
Stories have always been the best way to learn things. I seem to recall a certain parable-teller who knew this...