There was a metro preacher the other day who said, “People say that you can’t cure cancer. Cancer is a tiny virus,” he said. “So tiny. To God, cancer is the size of an ant.” Considering a virus is monumentally smaller than an ant, God, in this man’s eyes, must be an itty bitty little guy.
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My mom and I broke a wish bone together this morning and I lost. I started crying.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I wished for your wish to come true.”
“My wish was only to win,” I said.
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The other day, I got a fortune cookie that said, “You will stop procrastinating, starting tomorrow.”
