Tilt Me Towards Betsy

There was a man who had two wives, Mary his first wife, and Betsy his second. Both wives had passed away. He loved both wives dearly. Still he felt a stronger love for his second wife. He went to buy a plot at the mortuary and they asked him where he wanted to be buried. “Bury me right between both wives,” he said, “But tilt me toward Betsy.”

On my drive home I listen to the radio. I alternate between Bill Carroll and Glenn Beck. Beck gets my blood pumping but sometimes (most times) his messages rob me of peace. I drive home expecting that by the time I arrive the government will have instituted martial law, emptied my bank account and forced my wife and child to enroll in a school where they wear red, white and blue bandanas while listening to Richard Wagner.

Bill Carroll keeps me apprised of human interest stories both in the Los Angeles area and abroad. He keeps me abreast of the local fads and fetishes that are making news. As a father and husband he manages to draw within the lines though sometimes he obscures them.

We tilt differently on different days. A mother I knew alternated between Gary Ezzo (Raising Kids Gods Way) and James Dobson depending on whether she felt she needed to be stricter or more lenient and gracious. I suspect there are Christians out there that alternate between John Piper and Joel Osteen depending on if they want solid theology or to feel good about themselves on a Monday morning.

The bottom line isn’t which way you tilt but where you come to rest on any given position---tilt me toward Glenn Beck.