I spent the better part of today out at my brother and sister-in-law’s new digs, helping them put the final coats of paint on the walls. My pa-in-law was out there with me. He and I share a pretty good relationship. We give each other “the business” a lot, but it’s all done in love. Anyway, when we weren’t ragging on each other’s inability to paint, we had some pretty good theology discussions. See, he’s a pastor of a small church nearby. When it’s just he and I, we usually end up talking theology at some point. Today was no different.
Our discussion ranged from how he knew he was called to the ministry (very cool story, by the way) to my own struggle through Catholic doctrine (and the subsequent mess I made for a few years) to the Truth of the Bible. We talked about how, in certain denominations, we often try to force the Holy Spirit’s hand by playing just the right song at just the right time, or by singing that song over and over for “55 times” (his words, not mine) until somebody does something (We both agreed that was foolish. God moves when He wants, not when we want Him to).
We talked about predestination vs. free will, God’s sovereignty vs. man’s responsibility, and deep stuff like why we both hate Southern Gospel music.
It was actually a lot of fun.
I give him a lot of grief, and vice-versa, but I think an awful lot of the man. He loves the Lord, and he loves his family. He has treated me just like a son, and I can’t ask for much more than that. He’s a good man, a good father, a good PaPa, and a good preacher. I’m lucky to have an in-law like him.
Even if he is a Yankee fan.