At 54

This morning I had a significant thought.

It escapes me now.

A Biblical Perspective on Suffering

Once upon a time there was a successful businessman named Joseph B. Saintly.  He was remarkably well respected by both his peers and his employees.  He offered the finest low-cost health plan to his workers, and when they came up short, he paid their bills himself.  He was the director of The Saintly Foundation to Aid Widows and Orphans, and his anonymous gifts to other charities were thought to be almost scandalously generous.  Joseph B. Saintly was a good man, in all the ways people mean that word.

He had a wife Mildred, who occasionally disapproved of his generosity, but to whom he was utterly faithful.  He had a son Bill, who enjoyed the comfort provided by his father's wealth, but was by no means a playboy.  He had a daughter Jill, who had married well and was expecting Joseph B.'s first grandchild.  Mr. Saintly was a happy man.

He was a deacon in his local Baptist church, head of the building committee, teacher of the teenage boys' Sunday School class, and he provided scholarships for kids to go away to summer camp.  His views on religion were both orthodox and correct, focusing rightly on the glory of God, but not neglecting a life of good works.  Joseph B. Saintly was a faithful man.