Galatians 3 has spoken to me on several levels lately.
I'm at a writer's conference tonight. I'm tired. It's late, after eleven, actually. I'm in the lobby, near a fireplace, surrounded by other writers and a few agents. We're just hanging out tonight, chatting...setting aside for a while the mental hierarchy imposed by the world and our flesh. You know, that distinction the attendees make between the successful and the aspiring.
Though some would deny it, there's a sort of attendee caste system here that separates the first-timer from the seasoned conference vetter. The unpublished from the barely-published. The successful from the aspiring.
No wonder Father feels the need to remind us there's no difference between Jew and Greek, and that He's not a respecter of persons.
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