The thing of it, hardheart, is that I don't care for your perspective on the reality of it all. I care for the reality of it all. There are two things I appreciate that to me make it all the more real: the little details and the listed faults.
On the first, details like someone running away naked from the fray, the medical proof of the suffocation, the crestfallen smiles, or the grimaces or the unbridled joy. To me these aren't boring moral tales, but stories I have lived and can see and can feel.
On the latter, the heroes that we understand in all their warts. We don't get the impossible standard (although there's that); we get the identifiable weakhearted ones, challenged ones, discouraged ones, angry ones, lost ones. These are the ones we're called to learn from. And we can because we've been there.
Today we see two friends parting because of another friend (sorry, you're not psychic -- Acts 15). Just a few simple sentences that mask over something larger, I'm sure. They both end up successful, but the longing, the wondering. Still there.
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