Headed into church with my wife this morning, accompanied by my son Evan who is home from NYC, we paused to greet the pastors at the door to the sanctuary.

“Good morning,” our associate Pastor (Rich) said to my son. “Where are you living now?” he asked.

“New York City,” Evan replied. “Lower East Side of Manhattan.”

“It’s nice to see you again,” Pastor Rich said. “I’m riding buddies with your dad. Do you ride?”

It was noisy in the chancellery. My son did not quite hear what the pastor said. He thought he’d heard “writing” rather than the word “riding.”

“Yes, I try…” he smiled. “But it’s hard.”

Pastor Rich smiled, welcoming my son into the club of people who know that riding is hard work.

Later after church I asked my son, “Did hear him say ‘riding’,” I asked, “or did you think he said ‘writing?’ ”

“Writing,” my son laughed.

“Well, just the same,” I replied, laughing as well. “They’re both hard if you think about. At least to some people.”