Now, I’m not dissing on people that have weight issues. I struggle with my weight. As I type this, I am thirty some odd pounds over my ideal number. I know I need to put down the chicken tenders and the Peanut butter Oreos. And I will. Tomorrow.
But Brother Marty was huge. Sumo wrestler huge. I mean HUGE. He was so massive that I know my eyes totally bugged out when I first shook his hand. But he didn’t just shake my hand. No. He wrapped his tree trunk arms around me and smothered me in a big, goofy, grizzly bear hug. I was stunned…and somewhat mortified.
And within that hug lay an omen. It was the foreshadowing of things to come… the inauguration of the era of the invasion of personal space. In saying fare-the-well to Dr. Mathews and his friendly monkey, our church had apparently closed the chapter on formal handshakes and civilized greetings.
A new day had dawned, and we were now huggers.
Like it or not.