I walked to Church alone yesterday with Conor in the stroller. Adam woke up extra cranky and didn't feel like going. I sat in our regular pew, trying to keep Conor occupied with one surprise after another from my "Bag of Tricks". Instead, he wanted the crackers from the baby behind us and the fruit snacks from the little girl in front of us. Thank goodness they both knew how to share.
The first speaker, well, I don't know what his topic was about because I could only listen in, like, six second increments, but I did hear him lead into the story of the Good Samaritan. A Jewish leader was trying to trick Jesus with questions about how to get into heaven. Jesus' response was to love God with heart, mind, and soul, and to love one's neighbor the same. The leader then asked Jesus, "Who is my neighbor?"
I wrestled with Conor, cynically thinking, "well, if it's the person hardest to be kind to, the person that makes life most difficult, then today it is my husband." I looked up to see what his answer would be.
He paused, and then he said, "I think sometimes our neighbor is our husband or wife. It's far too easy to be unkind and to treat them in a way we would never dream of treating other people."
Okay, okay. Lesson learned. Mission accomplished.