I have a good friend named Douglas. I met him about 15 years ago in a way only God could have orchestrated.
One Saturday morning, my wife’s MacBook froze up. I volunteered to drive about eight miles from our home in South San Francisco to the nearest Apple store in Burlingame to see if they could repair it. I was wearing the shirt I had slept in, I am a Jewish believer in Jesus, and the shirt says, “Jesus Made Me Kosher,” with the kosher symbol alongside.
My wife hadn’t started the laundry yet. And I had no other clean shirts. So I just got up and left for the store, not thinking much about the shirt I was wearing. When I arrived at the store, a few people stared at my shirt like I was from another planet. However, the Apple security guard took a different kind of interest. As I was leaving the store, he stopped me and said, “That’s neat. What does that mean? Are you Jewish?”
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