A Taxi Ride (Living with Greater Boldness)
I peer into the taxi. I was hoping to take the bus this morning but I’d never get there in time for w-ship at our friends’ home. The kids pile into the back of the car. I exchange greetings and directions with the driver. Father, will you direct this conversation? I need you . The usual exchange dominates most of the first half of the car ride. 3 kids? All yours? You must make tons of money! How much does your husband make? (I am certainly not going to add that I have one more son who’s not with us this morning.) Where are you from? (I brace myself as usually the next half of the drive is about my sucky Chinese and how I should have learned better.) But we don’t go there this morning. Thankful. I don’t mince words . I’m going to ch-rch this morning with my kids. I’m a follower of J-sus. Have you ever heard of J-sus? Time’s running out and I may never see this man again. I share with him a little of my faith. His silence tempts me to be quiet. I believe in Pusa,...