17 October 2010

What!? ... what sermon?

My Tal does know how to get a girl's attention. 

This morning, after a fitful night here in good old Shawnee, Tal nudged my finally-sleeping body and whispered, "Got your sermon done?"

No longer sleeping, heart pumping, scrambling awake, completely panicked.  Sermon ... the sermon ... what sermon?

Until retiring three years ago, I was used to that question.  No matter how hard or how early in the week I worked on that recurring task, it was rare for me to go to bed on a Saturday night at the same time Tal did.  I stayed up to finish (admittedly, sometimes to rewrite, sometimes even to start) the sermon.

It's been a long -- and a blessed -- time since he's asked me that Sunday-at-dawn question.  I think he's really ready to go home and wanted me up. 

It worked.

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