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On holiday in the “Region” (Northwest Indiana)

Karin & I will soon have been married ten years.

To celebrate, we dropped off Jasper, Ziva, and Dory at a cats’ hotel and headed west with our three little sons.

Not very far west.

Not as far as Illinois. Not even as far as Gary, Indiana. We did cross over into the Central Time Zone.

Our activities in the “Region” were zoological, botanical, athletic, culinary (White Castle), and commercial.

We toured: Michigan City, Valparaiso, Merrillville, Hobart, and – unpremeditatedly – Beverly Shores.

Beverly Shores is a beach town next to the Indiana Dunes National Park. Our phone GPS took us there because we asked it to find a playground. But we couldn’t park the car without a city-issued permit, so we didn’t play in Beverly Shores.

Instead, we drove and gawked. We could see Chicago across the lake, and there were spectacular houses that looked out in that direction. Some had been built for the Chicago World’s Fair of 1933 and then transported east, by boat.

I hadn’t known that there was such glamor in the “Region.”

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Our hotel was in Portage. It had a breakfast buffet and an indoor swimming pool. We used those conveniences daily.

It took all our effort to keep the children from destroying our suite. Abel, in particular, was a menace.

Samuel asked to go home and, the first night, was physically ill. He improved.

It was Daniel who took to the holiday with especial keenness. We hardly could coax him out of the pool.

One night, our family was bathing when a man and a woman came into the pool area. They looked very sheepish (they had come in and gone out once before). They disrobed, got into the hot tub, worked up some courage, and, I daresay, proceeded to do the deed while we were across the room. You’d think it was their honeymoon or anniversary; such was their involvement. But I suspect they were adulterers who had come to the “Region” to escape detection.

A Sunday school leader

We’ve been sick. We stayed home and listened to church on YouTube; I snored through most of it. Then Karin slept all afternoon.

The boys were allowed to watch many hours of Pete the Cat on Amazon Prime Video (or, as Daniel calls it, Crime Video). Lucky them.

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R.I.P. Dave – a gracious, helpful man, and a wonderful Sunday School leader. I say leader, not teacher, not because he didn’t teach – he did – but because he was so good at drawing people out, at leading everyone to share and teach.
Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly. We all stumble in many ways.
This is James 3:1–2 (NIV).

One point emphasized at the funeral was that Dave was agonizingly conscious of his sin.

He certainly conveyed this in his teaching. Not that he’d go into mortifying detail. But when people are aware that their leader is aware of his sin – of his need – well, that can make them aware of their own sin and need.

To lead people into that awareness, graciously, well, that’s teaching of the most exalted kind.