Theme Park Church, Family Ties
We attended church in a theme park. A small Baptist church holds Sunday services and a mid-week Bible study in the Shofar Auditorium of the Holy Land Experience. It is far enough away that we were not attending with the idea this might become our home church, but merely out of an interest in the concept of church in a theme park.
The sermon was from Genesis 49 and the delivery presupposed in its hearers a good deal of Biblical knowledge. I had expected a more evangelistic message since the web site had invited tourists and other visitors and (to me, at least) seemed to intimate an introduction to the Gospel, but enjoyed the sermon anyway.
After church, we drove over to my brother's job site where he is the Punch Man on a construction project building an Olive Garden restaurant. We picked Donnie up and drove over to Brannigan's for a family meal and a good visit.
I love my brother so deeply. We shared a happy childhood in a somewhat dysfunctional family where we were loved unconditionally by parents who had problems, not with each other or with us, but within themselves... even so, I wouldn't trade places with a queen!
Mama was agoraphobic and Daddy had his own rose-colored view of reality and a unique amoebic morality with a nonetheless concrete core. Life was interesting for us all. Our parents were not perfect but we both still love them almost stubbornly. Tomorrow, I'll tell you about how my dad taught me to steal trucks.
The sermon was from Genesis 49 and the delivery presupposed in its hearers a good deal of Biblical knowledge. I had expected a more evangelistic message since the web site had invited tourists and other visitors and (to me, at least) seemed to intimate an introduction to the Gospel, but enjoyed the sermon anyway.
After church, we drove over to my brother's job site where he is the Punch Man on a construction project building an Olive Garden restaurant. We picked Donnie up and drove over to Brannigan's for a family meal and a good visit.
I love my brother so deeply. We shared a happy childhood in a somewhat dysfunctional family where we were loved unconditionally by parents who had problems, not with each other or with us, but within themselves... even so, I wouldn't trade places with a queen!
Mama was agoraphobic and Daddy had his own rose-colored view of reality and a unique amoebic morality with a nonetheless concrete core. Life was interesting for us all. Our parents were not perfect but we both still love them almost stubbornly. Tomorrow, I'll tell you about how my dad taught me to steal trucks.

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