Dear God, let me not be this guy!
Actually, in the careless way I built this poem, I WAS THIS GUY. I can do better with my poetry — and occasionally do. The almost comical reality in my life is that practically every time I point to “someone else’s” failings, it is my own failing that quickly comes into view. I have seen this so often when criticizing grammar! Point out someone else’s poorly-constructed sentence, and I’m sure to blunder within two or three of my own sentences.
I’ll never forget the illustration my friend Jim Adams gave us for the blemished sacrifices passage in Malachi. He brought the class a big bouquet of wilted flowers. That was over thirty years ago. That’s how good a teacher he is!
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