My 7 a.m. got cancelled because of illness so I could take my time this morning. It was almost weird going out to feed the goats as the sun was coming up. Dolly complained, "Where have you been?! You're late!" But her scoop of grain seemed to appease her.
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It's now Friday morning, about 22 hours after I wrote that short paragraph. That tells you something about how the day went.
But I now have three fresh bales of hay and straw in the barn, my lesson for Sunday morning is prepared, and I got a haircut.
There was a bunch of other stuff but neither of us wants or needs to relive that.
I took most of the cinnamon rolls I baked to the church office and four of them around the corner to the PT office. Last night I had one for dessert. Grrr. I should have done that first. The rolls are heavy, the dough isn't light. They taste fine but the texture is wrong. Didn't rise enough? Needed a few more minutes in the oven? I dunno.
I also took one of the invite cards to the PT office hoping that one or more of them might come to our Christmas service next Sunday.
The gal/lady/female/person (I don't know what I should and shouldn't say these days) who cut my hair has an accent. Early in our conversation I asked where she's originally from and she told me Brazil. Oh!
So then we talked about Brazil, my impressions of the small area I saw, the differences, and the Portuguese language. Then I asked her about her story.
Sad.
She's 47 and has been married twice. The first husband, the father of her adult children, is in Brazil and he was an alcoholic. Her second husband is someone her sister here hooked her up with and the reason she moved to OR. He turned out to have emotional issues, was extremely controlling, and she had to get out for her survival.
You may be thinking she was complaining about these two guys but she wasn't. In fact, she'll spend Christmas day with #2 so he's not alone and said she prays for him all the time. (No, I don't put much importance in that statement.)
Mostly she seemed sad to be alone with two failed marriages and nothing very hopeful in her future. She lives with her sister and works cutting hair to survive.
I think I may stop by with one of those invite cards. She needs the good news of the incarnation.
And that's something I appreciate about UFC. When we'd visited two or three times we had coffee with the pastor to learn more about the church and see if it might be our church home. One of the questions I asked: "How many Sundays will I attend before I hear the gospel?"
Brett said, "I hope you hear at least some part of it every Sunday."
And he's right. Two years later that is clearly the pattern, with a fuller presentation every few weeks.
I like knowing that if I invite someone who isn't a believer to church they'll hear the gospel. That will certainly be the case on the 23rd. Brett made that clear in our staff meeting Wednesday.
How long has it been since your pastor talked about the good news?
"But we rarely have nonChristians in our service."
Maybe there's a connection there. If God wanted someone to hear the good news of his love and provision he'd send them someplace where they'd hear it. I don't think it's a coincidence that UFC has new people coming all the time.
Just sayin'.
The rain will start about 10 a.m. so before then I want to get the chicken coop cleaned (it's bad!), and the kindling box filled. But first I have to take Buddy out for his morning constitutional, fix my b'fast, and get showered and dressed for the day's activities. The church office is closed Fridays so it's a chore day here.
Let's do this!!
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