So terrified was I of … you know, “H. E. Double Hockey Sticks,” that I wore itchy woolen britches to Sunday School in the winter and starched shirts in the summer to Vacation Bible Camp. Suffering was a necessity to the truly devout, and yes, years of making Crucifixion Depictions out of macaroni shells and earning Caravan Merit Badges for Nativity Scene Dioramas has a weird effect on a kid.
I suppose, it seems to fit, but it still leaves me jarred. There are just some expressions I'll never say. I just don't take the Lord's name in vain. I won't.
I guess even in lands so foreign and bizarre, where methods and customs baffle and delight, I'm still just the same old farm kid as I ever was... of course, I threw out the tightie-whities a long time ago. Thank God!