I'm sitting in a school staff room, in between chapels. I finished talking about The Prodigal Son an hour ago. It feels strange giving that talk. I think I originally wrote it 6 years ago, but I'm still trotting it out.
I acidentally made the mistake of saying, in one if my illustrations talking about the last night of a camp, "I found everyone sharing beds and sharing doonas." For a bunch of year 7 and 8s this was just an invitation to giggle about the supposed mass orgie I had discovered. I tried to recover but gave up and moved on. For the record I should have said "sitting on each other's beds and sharing doonas".
In about 10 minutes I talking about Jesus and superheros to the primary school, so I should go focus on that.
I acidentally made the mistake of saying, in one if my illustrations talking about the last night of a camp, "I found everyone sharing beds and sharing doonas." For a bunch of year 7 and 8s this was just an invitation to giggle about the supposed mass orgie I had discovered. I tried to recover but gave up and moved on. For the record I should have said "sitting on each other's beds and sharing doonas".
In about 10 minutes I talking about Jesus and superheros to the primary school, so I should go focus on that.
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