I went to a candlelit Christmas Eve service at the Salvation Army tonight. I half expected the uniformed woman to break out into a number from "Guys and Dolls." She didn't. She did say, however, that the screen would tell us whether to "stand, sit or whatever." I still don't know what "whatever" means. I suppose we could have somersaulted in the aisles.
The service was a lovely timeless one, filled with traditional carols, baritone solos and elderly folks in their best holiday sweaters.
In front of me sat three teenage girls, loudly pondering the mysteries of life.
"Did you know that your hand is the same size as your boob?"
I wanted to whisper, "Yes. It's also the same size as your knee. And any another body part you can grab." Oh, to have the insight of a teenager again.
I was mildly annoyed by the young whisperers until I was hit with a rather simple thought: God created 15-year-old girls. Hands and boobs included. He understands. Like, totally.