So I walked into the hallway to where a gentleman was standing holding a piece of paper with the description of my car and had my license plate number written on it. My heart sunk. He asked if I was the owner, and I said yes. And he was so relieved because he had "been looking and asking everyone around the whole church." And then he promptly asked me to move my car because I was parked in the bishop's parking space. See, another church was renting out the sanctuary for the night and the leaders of their church park in the front row of the church.
My first reaction was of disbelief but I asked Adam to move my car for me and decided not to make a big deal out of this.
My second reaction was to laugh.
I got home, and my third reaction was of absolute frustration. Is this what the Church is about?
Are we too busy looking for the owners of gray ford focuses and not the lost sheep of the world?