From NOT ALWAYS RIGHT: Not The Best Way To Keep The “Christ” In “Christmas”
It’s Christmas morning, and my husband and I are sitting in the living room sipping our coffee when there is a knock on the door. It’s a woman in very conservative attire. I am in my pajama shorts and a tank top with no bra. She takes this in and blushes, looking away.
Me: “Hello?”
Woman: “Merry Christmas, sister in Christ!” Tries to hand me a pamphlet “Will we be seeing you at the service today?”
Me: “Oh. No, thank you, we aren’t interested in church. Have a wonderful day, though, and Merry Christmas.”
I close the door, but before I can sit back down, she knocks again.
Woman: Through the door “The Lord wants you at church!”
Me: “And I want you off my property!”
Woman: Knocking louder “Miss, please, the Lord loves you and—”
Me: “I will answer that door as naked as your God made me!”
Husband: “Oh! Knock! Do it!”
The woman finally left, but not without putting a pamphlet in the door frame, a second under the wiper on my car, and a third in the mailbox. They were for a church miles away, one known locally for (allegedly) pressuring women into being unquestionably subservient to their husbands, and for (allegedly) looking the other way when a wife had an opinion and later showed up with a bruise or two.
From NOT ALWAYS RIGHT: Not The Best Way To Keep The “Christ” In “Christmas”
It’s Christmas morning, and my husband and I are sitting in the living room sipping our coffee when there is a knock on the door. It’s a woman in very conservative attire. I am in my pajama shorts and a tank top with no bra. She takes this in and blushes, looking away.
Me: “Hello?”
Woman: “Merry Christmas, sister in Christ!” Tries to hand me a pamphlet “Will we be seeing you at the service today?”
Me: “Oh. No, thank you, we aren’t interested in church. Have a wonderful day, though, and Merry Christmas.”
I close the door, but before I can sit back down, she knocks again.
Woman: Through the door “The Lord wants you at church!”
Me: “And I want you off my property!”
Woman: Knocking louder “Miss, please, the Lord loves you and—”
Me: “I will answer that door as naked as your God made me!”
Husband: “Oh! Knock! Do it!”
The woman finally left, but not without putting a pamphlet in the door frame, a second under the wiper on my car, and a third in the mailbox. They were for a church miles away, one known locally for (allegedly) pressuring women into being unquestionably subservient to their husbands, and for (allegedly) looking the other way when a wife had an opinion and later showed up with a bruise or two.
NOT my story!