bomb the medic

Today, we played bomb the medic in gym class. Of course, my team was dumb and picked someone who had been the medic just last week, so I spoke out. Here's how it went:

"Tintor!" Tintor is my teacher, Mrs. Tintor, but we call her Tintor, or I do, at least. "They always pick the medic, and I never get a say in it! They just pick someone who has been the medic a billion times before and some of us haven't at all! That's totally not fair!"

So, Tintor let ME pick who was to be medic next game, and who did I pick? Me, of course!

So, the game before I was the medic, someone named Caitlin was, and she was just standing in the back, getting people close to her so she wouldn't have to move much, and the people by the line seperating the two teams were just dead for the whole time (I was one of them). So, when I was the medic, hardly anyone was down, because I risked my "life" to go get the people by the line.. They said I was a good medic.

I wonder if that's how Jesus felt? People from the other team (side) throwing balls at you (umm, trying to kill you), and killing your people because they don't believe what you do, then Jesus would save his people by just touching them, and they're alive and well! Then when I get out (or die) they try to save me, then I raise from the dead! It was rather exciting.

I love having a say in stuff.. It's fun to make a difference.