I shared this in the sermon yesterday …
The morning after I had heard the gospel, however, I woke up with what felt like a hangover. Little would I know it was of the spiritual kind that accompanies the inevitable dawn of realization that life is not, perhaps, what we previously thought it was. And we cannot go back to pretending.
The bizarre thing about the good news is that one you have heard it you can never unhear it. The good news of the gospel is like a great big elephant in a tiny room.
It is like a great big elephant in a tiny room. Its obvious presence begins to squeeze out everything else, including your own little measly self. Even if we fight the elephant; we push back on it, we try to ignore it, get it to leave the room, or attempt to leave the room ourselves. But it does not help. The trunk keeps curling around the doorknob.
I did not realize at the time that this was part of the grace of the gospel – such relentless truthfulness.
Surprised by Oxford: A Memoir
by Carolyn Weber
