Over the last few years, I’ve begun to rely more and more on reading glasses. Last Sunday, I forgot to bring a pair to the pulpit when I went up to preach the sermon. I asked my son to run down to my office and grab a pair. He brought back a pair of black framed readers that came from a drawer in my desk. As soon as I saw them, I realized that they were a pair of fake glasses I picked up for Halloween a few years ago. I didn’t want to stop talking and explain why I needed a different pair, so I put them on and did the best I could by squinting and leaning on memory as best I could. This mornin...
