Dennis is my twin brother and, he like me, is a pastor. I went to visit him yesterday. He lives about sixty miles from me and I wanted to see him because I missed him. He just returned with a group from his church from a work trip in Arizona where he fell on a rock climb, injuring four of his ribs. He was home, recovering--taking it "easy"--preparing for VBS, making sandwiches, planning for the care of a widow who had sprained her ankle, preparing for a dramatic part as a last minute fill-in for someone who couldn't make it, getting ready to set up for the evening acitvities. That's what pastors in smaller churches do.
Dennis pastors the church begun by my father fifty years ago. Some of the grandchildren of people my father pastored are now his parisioners. Dennis does what my father did best--ministers grace and love to his people.
I am proud of him, and my father would be, too!
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