CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith for the Years of Winter
My old college roommate, Tom Cone, had a stroke, sixty years after we were put into the same dorm room just because neither of us smoked. We had nothing else in common, but we became fast friends, and so we remain.
The first prognosis was that he would never walk or talk again. They did not know Tom. He is back to doing everything he has ever done, except with some short term memory loss. At least, we think that’s what it is. If a man claims he can’t remember from one mowing to the next how to start the mower, he may just want to watch baseball instead of cutting the grass.
And finding words. He understands everything, but often cannot find the words to say what he wants. Recently he spent quite a bit of time trying to find the right word to ask me a question and then settled for, “Do you still say words… at the services?”
That’s a pretty good definition of preaching.
I tweet as yooper1721. I’m not a Yooper [inhabitant of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula] anymore, but I don’t know how to change my “handle.”