St. Patrick Presbyterian Church, Epc

This morning I emerged from sleep with a jolt. That dream again. Half my life ago, I nearly failed my second semester of a one-semester economics class in high school. I still wake up in a cold sweat thinking about it. My mother was and is a financial secretary and has always instilled in us a sense of frugal responsibility that has kept me mostly out of trouble, but I still view economics as an absolute inscrutable mystery on par with magic and where the internet really is. Eventually, my teacher impressed upon me the economic reality that lay ahead if I didn't pass, and I managed to make it through. But the post-traumatic anxiety followed me and shows no sign of diminishing returns. Needless to say, I was not tempted to pursue a business degree, and while I'm grateful that others have and can keep commerce moving, I sometimes take great pleasure in the fact that God will just as soon undermine our financial plans as honor them. It is against this backdrop that I was at first horrified to discover that the B