It was an innocent enough question. A stranger on the airplane simply asked, "What do you do for a living?" For most of the past four decades, the answer was an easy, automatic, "I'm a youth pastor." This time, I was frozen. I just wasn't sure what to say.
I have something you probably don't—a picture of my own brain. My wife won't let me hang it in the living room (too creepy, she says); and while people ask to see pictures of my kids, they've yet to be impressed when I pull a picture of my brain from my wallet.