While busily engaged in scouring and scrubbing the supper dishes, Mom exclaimed “What is that orange thing on the top of the window? It looks like a worm!” Hastily glancing up from a spaghetti sauce coated pan, I began to giggle. “Nick peeled the carrots for me,” was the only explanation needed before we both doubled over with laughter.
Supper proved an interesting affair, with my newest version of turkey burger meatballs containing pickle relish and smothered in tomato sauce. “It’s good,” everyone insisted, but I remain dubious. At the dental clinic, Papa discovered that Chris Coty was in down for some tooth work and staying in his van, so he invited him out. We met Bo and Fika over the phone, received a phone concert and heard some interesting stories of how the Lord is using Chris and his boys in Lancaster County. At one point, Chris mentioned something about us just rescuing an idiot, which sent my mind churning. I was thinking of Lot and the two angels he discovered spending the night in the city square—the idiots. He extended hospitality which returned upon his head in the greater blessing of being rescued from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. I couldn’t formulate my words to explain what I wanted to say: that many times those “idiots” prove to be the greater blessing to their hosts.
Lord, Thy word is very clear
That we should hold our brothers dear
And willingly should offer homing
Whene’er we find them roaming.
And, like the people of Thy book,
I find, upon a closer look
That often we the blessed may be
Rejoicing in their company.
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