Brothers and sisters, earlier this week,

I was driving in my Java Metallic 2008 Nissan Maxima.

Ha! Yeah, you know me. I drive around our community doing various errands for the story.

If you see me, be sure to wave. Hello! So I've just picked up new ammunition

for the stories. Well, it doesn't matter what the ammunition was for, but as I'm driving

out of the parking lot, all of a sudden,

Chachon! Kachon!

Brothers and sisters, if you've heard that sound, you know how I felt.

Uh-oh.

I popped the hood, because I know my Java Metallic 2008 Nissan Maxima, like it was my 2003 Nissan Maxima. And wouldn't you know it? A live snake

once again had entered my vehicle, coiled between the pistons, and died a most grisly death.

I said what I always say when this happens. This story must be told.

The story must be told.

Brothers and sisters, when you get down to it, we are all cars.

A beep, a Hong Kong, you, me, grandmas, aunt grandpas.

We come in all colors. We love to travel, and we are all full of gas. No, but really, it's because like the car, like a Nissan Maxima, we are an empty

vessel waiting for a driver. The story is my driver. I don't choose what I eat for

breakfast. Don't choose what I say to my friends, what I do to my family. I don't do anything.

The story does not first command me. But the story is not the only driver we face.

Do not welcome the serpent, nor the sheep.

Be a vessel for the story alone.

We now entertain a psalm from our dear brother read.

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