Yesterday afternoon, after work, I stopped at the Superstore gas station (in the same strip mall area as both the store and the church), and, among other things, had the hood up to check my oil.
Today, during the lunch rush, Rob, the tech guy at the church, came into the store and asked if I got my car running yesterday. I replied that I didn't even know it wouldn't start.
Turns out, he was driving a vanload of spring break daycamp kids back to the church, saw me at the gas station with my hood up, and drove past again after he dropped off the kids, but by then I was gone.
Seriously! Everywhere I go, there's someone checking up on me... it's like I live in my own little version of the song.
Oh be careful little hands what you do... oh be careful little hands what you do... for the Father up above is...
And that's where the song gets interesting. If you're actually singing it with little kids, you sing, for the Father up above is looking down with love...
If you were part of my youth group, you'd sing, For the Father up above is waiting with a club...
Yeah, we massacred those children's Sunday School songs pretty badly. We had the most sacreligious versions of everything.
My favorite (besides, of course, the Friends/Fins and Pass It On shark songs (anyone remember Mexico '97?)) would still have to be Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world... purple, orange, and navy blue... he loves them all except for you... Jesus loves the little children of the world...
Is it any wonder we turned out the way we did?
And the scary thing is that we are the current generation of Sunday School teachers and youth leaders in the church. What on earth (or in this case, would "what in heaven's name?!" be more appropriate?) were they thinking?! ;o)
infinite || abyss