Grass Stains on His Football Jersey

it was needful for me to write unto you, and exort you that ye should earnestly contend for the faith that was once delivered unto the saints. Jude 1:3

A little boy was suited up for his first game of football. As a pass receiver, he caught a pass and headed for the goal line. He tried to evade potential tacklers, but someone grabbed his new white jersey. As he struggled to maintain his forward momentum, he was hit from behind.

He went down, and as he did, he got grass stains on his uniform. His reaction--he began to cry, left the field, and headed for home. He ran all the way. Once there, he headed for the kitchen where his mother was.

"Mom, look at me. Someone tackled me and got stains on my jersey."

His mother tried to comfort him. "That's terrible. I hope you're not hurt. Maybe you should try another activity, like golf?"

His father in the living room put down his paper. "Before your mother tries to comfort you with milk and cookies, let me tell you that you got off easy. Football is all about violent contact. That's the name of the game, son. You don't even have blood on your shirt, and if you can still run, I figure you will be fine. Why don't you ask your sister if she wants to play tiddlywinks. That seems more like your style."

This is my idea of what some of those who argue about theology are like--petulant children. Just as things get interesting, they run home to "mama". Only in their case, mama is likely a preacher, who they pay to lie to them. Home is their denomination and its traditions, originated by Satan and passed along from Babylon, through Rome.

Am I condemning anyone? Certainly not, just the dumb things that they believe.

I watched a video of some women who were cancer survivors, and were attending a kind of boot camp. Many of them had lost their confidence in their ability to face life. They were "tapped out".

One of the tasks they were asked to perform was to carry a heavy box across a rope ladder. It was purposely made to be too heavy for one person to heft and carry along the pair of ropes. I was fascinated at how they solved this arduous task. They formed teams, two to lift and drag the heavy box, two to steady the ropes, and the remaining women to offer ideas and to cheer them on. All eventually finished the course successfully.

How I wish the men I have tried to argue (reason) with, could adopt the strategies these women used so well. But, I have seen men react like angry children when presented with such a topic as Calvinism. You can look online and see rants that say Calvin is in hell--their weapon of last resort.

When their erroneous beliefs are questioned, they whimper and run away. Hey, you guys, stop hiding in your denominations. Come out on the field. Maybe you can knock me down? Tiddlywinks are safer, but to me, men should try a more manly sport.