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Once a sinner...
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Why is it that even now, as a middle aged adult, I have a difficult time keeping a straight face in church? God must love a fool; after more than 45 years yukking it up when the congregation and preacher are at their most stone-faced, I haven’t awakened in some fiery pit with a dozen or so pitchforks poking my backside. I suppose it still could happen – sort of a divine “ha, kid, the joke’s on you” kind of moment – but I think if the Good Lord really wanted to punish me, he wouldn’t send me to that kind of a nether region.

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