“Guilt” by Association, An Unlikely Lesson in Grace.

We’re never going to get in, I thought as we joined the end of the extremely long line. In front of us blocks and blocks of people who apparently got in line long before us. It was supposed to be a day that could quench a little bit of my homesickness. I had been away from home for nearly a year, living outside of Stockholm as an exchange student. On that early summer day, my Swedish host dad Håkan and I headed into the city for a rare visit to Sweden by several US Naval ships. For just a few hours that Saturday, one of the ships was open for group tours. But apparently there was an overabundance of curiosity to see the ships that day. For me, it was more personal. My dad served on a Navy destroyer years earlier. I hoped the tour might make me feel just a bit closer to home. Håkan craned his neck to survey the line in front of us. With little time left before the tours would stop, we knew it didn’t look good. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he stepped out of line and began briskly walking towards the front. Soon he disappeared in the mass of people several blocks away. Alone at the back of the line, I waited. Shortly he returned. “Follow me,” he said. Not having any idea what had transpired, I stepped out of line. Together we walked to the front. A group of a dozen or so people from the beginning of the line followed two sailors on board. Once they did, two...