Today I am just tuckered right out. On Sunday I "brought the message" which apparently is completely different from doing or giving the sermon, According to pastor Dave anyway, and well Who am I to argue. Then I "brought the message" at Rimoka, the local retirement village and soap opera. And in the evening I brought the message at the community Chapel service at The champion center, sort of a halfway house for men from the psychiatric hospital. Though all of that I must have shook at least five hundred hands, it’s a wonder I even have skin left. Someone or a few of them must have had some sort of virus. Now I feel like I am swimming though a bowl of Jell-O, every movement is labored and every sound I make is missing at least one vowel or consonant and what is coming in my ears is a mix of Swedish Chef Gibberish and really bad jazz music. I knew the risks before going into ministry and I am not looking back now, but I think investing in some good hand sanitizer is in order.
Peace kids
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Me
- Just Tim
- I'm twenty six years old, I'm a new pastor of a church plant, I'm married to an amazingly beautiful and quirky Mennonite girl, and i am about to become a father. I escaped the years following high school with no real degree to speak of. I love Jesus, Erika, my family, food, country music, gospel rap, TFK, Books, and my truck. I don't love ignorance, driving slow, math, being hot, smoked cheese, beets, or the way people ruin chocolate cake by putting zucchini in it.
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