Chapter 3

     I would have stolen that eyepatch too, except the operation didn’t quite turn out as planned.  Having accepted my brother’s dare, I slipped out of the house and headed down the street toward the edge of town.  My mom always calls Mr. Skink’s trailer an “eyesore.”  She’s kind of right.  Our town may be relentlessly boring, but it is very clean and very orderly.  The lawns are so well manicured, it almost hurts to look at them.  The sidewalks are spotless and the houses practically identical, each one as neat and annoyingly cheery as the next.  Besides such perfection, Mr. Skink’s trailer sticks out “like a sore thumb,” as my dad likes to say. 
     When I arrived, the trailer was silent.  Creeping up to the front, I pressed my ear against the door. Nothing and then, the faint sound of snoring.  I was in luck! No way Mr. Skink would keep his eyepatch on while he was napping!  
     Slowly I wrapped my fingers around the door handle, giving it just the slightest turn.  More luck, it twisted with only a faint creak.  Barely breathing, I slipped through the door and took one step into the front room.  Still no sound except for the faint snoring coming from somewhere in the back.  I raised my foot to take another step and nearly put it down on the biggest, hairiest spider I had ever seen!  I shrieked and immediately heard a yell from the now very awake Mr. Skink, “who’s that!?”
     I turned, slammed the door behind me, and took off down the street running as fast as my legs could carry me.  To Be Continued            
 
Luke 12:39-40
“But know this: if the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he[g] would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”
 
Did Jesus just compare himself to a thief? Jesus probably has little interest in breaking into our homes and stealing our eyepatches, but as human beings there are all sorts of other things we hang onto: grudges, guilt, grief, the list goes on.  If Jesus is going to come to us like a thief, what might he steal from us?  What memories, feelings, and habits get between us and loving God and our neighbor?   

Chapter 3 read by Amelia Corbett