Maggie and I have just completed the journey home. We went on a fabulous trip through Charlottesville, VA, stopping by at Monticello, and then continuing on through Atlanta to Dallas. We were fortunate enough to stay with one of my good seminary buddies in Atlanta on Saturday night, and what I took away from that night will last with me for some time.
My friend, Steve McGehee, is my dad’s age, but we hit it off at seminary. He stayed in the same dorm as I did, and we got to know each other through late nights in the common room and over dinners out in Alexandria. But on Saturday, he told us this crazy story about a camping tripe he went on one summer and how a bear stepped on his head while he was sleeping in his tent.
Now this story is undoubtedly an elaborate piece of fiction woven through with strands of fact. But what really surprised me is that no matter how well you think you may know a person, there is always some aspect or part of their life that is new to you. Of all the hours Steve and I had spent in conversation, that story was completely new. I wonder, what is it that people don’t know about me?