Today is my 30th birthday and Silas' due date, and both of those facts merit some discussion, I think. But three weeks of interrupted sleep, preceded by nine months of interrupted sleep, have left me a little less chatty and a little more prone to growl and mutter the past few days. So we'll save it for another time. Today, a story. From me to you.
Our church hosts an event called a Swap a few times a year. The Swap is a garage sale without money; you bring what you don't need, take what you do. It's open to the larger community, and usually attracts a crowd. At the last Swap, Brian picked up a cell phone and charger to use for work, but never activated it. So when my cell phone was stolen a few days ago, we had another ready, thankfully. Yesterday afternoon, we charged it, turned it on - and discovered p*rn. Of the animated and homemade varieties, to be exact. Lots of it.
Now, I don't harbor any delusions that church members are less interested in p*rn than the wider world. Churches are for people who need a little grace, and I'm glad to be a part of one that expresses that. But, seriously? You didn't want to delete that stuff instead of donating it to the church? You weren't just a liiiitle concerned someone might recognize you? ( Not I've seen that end of anyone at church, but there were a few benign snapshots of smiling faces in the mix.)
All day this phrase has been running through my head - The Peace of God be with you. And also some p*rn.