We met Simon Harris last week. He’s a 24-year-old politician jockeying to be a TD (in American terms, it’s a government position located somewhere between Obama’s gig and student council treasurer. I’m not very keen on politics). He stayed for a group picture, and I was lucky enough to be situated at his left flank. I touched his arm. Twice. It was not an accidental elbow graze.
|Simon Harris puts the TD in stud|
Last week, an 85-year-old woman from church named Joan took us to Avoca Handweavers, a garden/café/shop three-for-one deal. Joan is awesome. While most women burn themselves by touching caramelized sugar, Joan once received third degree burns on her face from climbing in the Alps. But, like most other women, she’s a pretty horrid driver. At least she can blame it on her age.
I’ve been going to my church’s Bible study held at Simon’s house (not Simon Harris). We have tea and coffee beforehand, and I’m guessing on Bible study nights, Hebrews it himself. I feel a bit out of my element because it seems those guys have as much knowledge about the Bible as Jesus had loaves and fish.
Simon: Who was the first person Moses met in the desert?
Simon: How did God plan to implement His plan?
[Note to self: Jesus is not always the answer]____________________
Simon: How many times does the word ‘love’ appear in the Bible?
Ryan: 341 times in the King James Version [is how he would have correctly responded if
this question had been asked.]
I'm planning to keep going to Bible study until I'm as good at Jesus knowledge as Moses was at stuttering, or until Simon's adorable white cockapoos run away.