I had to exchange something at a store today, and the man that initially helped me was quite effeminate. But, that was fine. I am no stranger to gay men. Yes, that statement is misleading, but I won't take it back. I'm just saying that after living in New York and near San Francisco for a bit, I've seen my share of them. That's all I'm saying.
Anyhow, apparently he didn't have the managerial authority to conduct the exchange for me, so he had to call up the manager. "She'll be right here," he told me. A few seconds later, he reassured me that "she" was coming soon. After about a minute, the manager finally appeared...only, she was a he...another effeminate man. Needless to say, I was taken aback with shock, disappointment, and confusion.
Then I wondered...if someone were to introduce me as a "man," would people be shocked, disappointed, and confused when I strolled out from behind a curtain? Do I exhibit the qualities of a genuine man?
Then I wondered...if someone were to introduce me as a "Christian," would people be shocked, disappointed, and confused when I strolled out from behind a curtain? Do I exhibit the qualities of a genuine Christian?
One thing's for sure: so many foreshadowing incidents and prophets in the Old Testament pointed to the arrival of someone higher and better. They said, in essence, "The Messiah is coming, the Messiah is coming," and their words did not lie. When Jesus came, he was who they said he was, and he did what they said he would do.
This world is filled with disappointments, empty promises, and misleading statements...shes are hes, for crying out loud! But this is not so with our Lord. His 'Yes' is always 'Yes' and his 'No' is always 'No.' He will never, ever introduce a he as a she. And if this is true, then every single promise in the Bible becomes infinitely more comforting, hopeful, and joy-giving than if it were not true. It makes an eternity of a difference.
I love fantasy basketball. I just wish it had another name. A man who says that he loves "fantasy basketball" sounds...effeminate. Anything with the word "fantasy" conjures up notions of private bedroom activities or some kind of card game involving heroes and monsters with esoteric names, known only by pubescent boys with sweaty palms, thick glasses, and nerdy friends. Still, I can't deny that I absolutely love fantasy basketball. Seriously, I love it. My palms sweat (yes, I realize the irony here), my heart beats a little faster, and my eyes get wide as I peruse box scores and examine trade scenarios.
But hell hath no fury like a man who loves fantasy basketball staring at a horribly disappointing line from one of his starters. This is a glimpse of what I feel during these times:
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