I recently visited some family for the holidays. After lunch one day I wanted some quiet time (to digest a bit of Daymon Smith’s The Book of Mammon). I snuck upstairs for a bit to strain at some incoherent dialogue between a statue and our author’s persona Daemon.

Maybe half an hour later I returned downstairs. Some of my family wanted to go into town and were getting ready to go. One of them said, “Where were you? We didn’t know where you were.”

“I was just upstairs,” I replied.

‘If you didn’t know where I was, why didn’t you just look for me?’ I thought, slightly annoyed no one took the effort to do a minute or two of searching.

Almost immediately a second thought came to mind:

I bet Jesus feels the same way.