Katie and I were driving home after church on Sunday morning. Since Jackson was out of town, she was happy to get to sit in the front seat. It was a longer drive than usual because I'd let a friend talk me into going to an itty bitty church in a neighboring town.
This has nothing to do with anything, but: I grew up in itty bitty churches. I love 'em. But, damn! I don't miss 'em. I like being one of a crowd.
As we drove, Katie was perusing her Bible.
"I got this for my first communion," she said. "My mom gave it to me."
"I remember," I replied.
"Look at this - I marked my favorite verse."
"Nice! What is your favorite verse?"
She read me the story of Jesus blessing the children. "That's my favorite story. At least, it's my favorite that I've read so far." she told me.
I drove on for a few minutes. She continued to page through her Bible. I looked over at her and didn't even think twice before completely giving in to temptation.
"You wanna know what my favorite verse is?" I asked her. "Look up Judges 4:21."
Jael, Heber's wife, picked up a tent peg and a hammer and went quietly to him while he lay fast asleep, exhausted. She drove the peg through his temple into the ground, and he died.
Katie read it out loud and then just stared at me, open-mouthed.
"That...that's just....really harsh!" she finally said. "I can't believe that's in the Bible!"
"Believe it, girlfriend!"
"Oh. my. gosh. That's really, really bad...."
"Yep. Pretty much. So, you better be good, or I'll have to do like they did in the Bible and nail yer temples to the floor."
"Noo!" she yelled and grabbed her head. "My temples are sacred!"
I really like this kid. (Why yes, I am working on my acceptance speech for the Parent of the Year Award. Why do you ask?)