Idling

Once upon a time, there was a little boy who attended Sunday school.

He grew up and died. That’s the end of the story, and there is no happily ever after.

The rows and rows of faces, who were once happy little children in my Sunday school class, but grew up to be lost to addiction, accident, murder, abuse, and suicide, make me feel hopeless for the rest of them.

If I feel hopeless, what must the parents and grandparents feel who are watching their beloved children be consumed by sin?

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