So I’m sitting in the living room, pondering what to preach about tomorrow. (This was several hours ago – the sermon is in the bag now.) And I look up, and there it is again.
There’s a hole. Not an actual all-the-way-through-black-in-the-middle kind of hole. But there’s a spot on our living room ceiling about the size of a quarter where the paint is peeled away. I remember how it happened…