I used to have a cartoon on my wall — drawn by a talented artist friend of mine — of a man trying to hold a multi-story brick building on his back, sweat pouring from his brow, his legs trembling with the strain. The caption read:
Be careful that the weight of sin does not crush you
A bunch of my husband’s coworkers were playing Risk at the house. A non-Christian flippantly remarked that he didn’t feel the weight of sin. What did it weigh anyway?
I’m sure he thought he would get agreement from all the other guys in the group, and that Brad would blame it all on me, but our friend Tim (the best Risk player on the planet, by the way) had been invited to join (because he is the best Risk player in the world) and he said “Does a dead body feel a weight?”
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