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Who is B.K. Dell?
Picture a theater. You hand your ticket to a man who rips it in half and sends you to the first usher. The first usher tells you the floor where your seat is located. The second usher tells you the section. The third usher tells you the row. Each time you are led deeper into the theater and handed off to someone who can help guide you. Finally, you count off the numbers on the seats and settle in right where you belong.
In this analogy, the theater is salvation. The ushers are theologians, pastors, counselors, scholars, mentors, friends, parents, even novelists. They can answer every question you have about the show, the characters, the Author, the lighting, the set, and even what year the theater was built.
But not me.
I am not one of those ushers, and I definitely can’t answer all of your questions. My knowledge of this theater consists of mainly the alley behind it – the alley where it’s cold and dark, and there are ragged hobos; there are addicts, and drunks, and thieves, and prostitutes; there is loneliness, and hopelessness, and pain. This is what I know.
This is where I’ve lived, and this is what I can say for certain: life is better inside the theater. And so my career is dedicated to standing among the wretched, my brothers, holding up tickets, saying, “Show tonight! Come inside where it’s warm. I’m begging you. You’ve been out here long enough. Come and see. It’s not what you’re expecting. Come in and find out. Your admission has already been paid.”