An old story is told about a couple who were celebrating their twentieth anniversary. As they drove together to the restaurant, the wife lamented, “We have grown distant from one another since we were first married. It has been years since I’ve felt close to you. I once sat next to you while you were driving.” The husband paused in silence then replied, “Well, I’m not the one who has moved.”

THE RADIO STATION

 

     One day a Native American from a rural village decided to visit a friend in New York City. As they walked together down the bustling sidewalk, the Native American Indian suddenly held up his hand. They paused and he asked his friend, “Do you hear that?” “Hear What” his friend asked over the sounds of cars and buses, a bit bewildered.

     I love the Count. Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t like TO count. I like THE Count von Count of Sesame Street fame. The Count is into numbers. Counting numbers brings him joy: “Ahh, ahh, ahh!”

     Many stories from the Bible cause me to wonder. Jacob’s adoption of his two grandsons, Ephraim and Manasseh is one of those stories (Genesis 48:5).