The Wrong Kind?

Last night on the much delayed (due to massively terrifying thunderstorms) flight from Chicago to Boston, I sat next to this oldish lady and her grandson. I was instantly soothed because I could tell they were from the south (Mississippi, turns out.) It naturally took about 9 years to load all of our luggage, even though the plane sat there, crewless, on the runway for two hours before we boarded, so the lady started to witness to me, with a sweet and gentle approach. I never stop anyone from witnessing to me, especially when I’m about to defy gravity. She said she had this bible for me – a Gideon bible (Gideons are known for placing bibles in hotel rooms.) She didn’t ask me if I was a Christian, just sort of went into her sweet but slightly mechanical shpeal. When she finally took a breath, I thanked her for the bible, told her that I was raised in a Christian home, and that I actually had a bible, and was familiar with its chapters, etc – she interrupted me: do you have a GIDEON bible? Does it have this seal on the front? I told her I didn’t know, so she insisted that I take this one, because sans seal, there was probably something wrong with my bible. I thanked her again and then we just kind of sat there, me thinking this is the kind of thing that gives Christians a bad wrap. Finally, she spoke: I’m reading a Christian book. It’s about an Amish girl who’s in love with a man that she shouldn’t be in love with. He’s a Christian too, but she shouldn’t be in love with him.

Leave a Reply