I came to Christ in my early twenties, lived in a small one bedroom home, and rarely frequented the kitchen. Meals were prepared by Wendy, Jack, and Mickey D's. I was also known to leave wrappers from these fine dining establishments lying around. One night, as I flipped
Polishing off my second bowl of ice cream while watching “The Biggest Loser”, a thought occurred to me. “Sure, put me on a ranch with trainers, massage therapists, and dietitians; offer me a financial reward if I succeed and I could drop the weight too!” Then I took
The phone rings, “Hey, we were in the neighborhood and thought we’d come over. Be there in 10 minutes.” “Sounds great! See you then.” It’s always nice when friends stop by, but not so nice when they come on short notice. I didn’t inherit the “house cleaning” gene.