“No, I’m not qualified,” I said. A group of arts and crafts people from Dallas needed judges for their art work—everything from quilts to crocheted and knitted pieces to photography and oil paintings. My artist friend Ginger added, “But haven’t you crocheted or knitted? Can’t you tell what’s good handwork and what isn’t?” “Yes,” I said, “I have seen some beautiful work my mom and my daughter and others have done, but it’s been years since I’ve done anything like that myself. I’m not qualified to be a judge.” “Do you know any other artist who paints and knits and crochets?” “No,” I said. “Then, it’s you and Kay and me,” Ginger said. We drove together to the church where the art was displayed. Kay is the experienced quilter so she knew to bring gloves to handle the quilts. It was easier with the three of us, but I was glad when it was over. I don’t enjoy being a judge. The apostle Paul wrote that someday we will judge angels. That somewhat reassures me. Surely by then I’ll be qualified.
Briefly Speaking 