When a simple question doesn't receive a simple answer
I had a long day at work at RMC today. On the way home I ran some errands. I couldn't for the life of me remember what I had planned for dinner. I picked up some buns and we had a few sandwiches. Then I got out my organizer. It was 6:10. My organizer told me that at 6:30 there was a dinner at the Church that James does Pioneers at. The boys seemed good to go for that and we went to dinner #2.
We sat at a table with Paul and Tara and two guys I did not know. Paul and Tara were waiting for Sarah to get back from Thunder Bay. Paul tried to convince me that Thunder Bay was closer to us than North Bay. He was going to look at a map when he got home.
One of the guys are the table was named George. I asked him why he had chosen this Church to attend. I don't quite know what I expected as an answer, or quite why I asked the question. But he breathed in and then everything came out. About his family. About what happened when his mom died. About Montreal. About where he's thinking of moving. About his girlfriend. He didn't answer my question though. And so ages later, I asked it again. And he answered. And I understood why he didn't want to tell me the first time. A sweet, sweet man with so much pain on the surface.
The dinner was partly a goodbye dinner for the pastors. The Wicks are moving to Saskatchewan. The Church a block away needs a new pastor. They are a Church in transition now. And that can be difficult, but they seem very positive about it. I think I may go to a few of their evening services in the next few weeks to help pray for their transition. When they prayed for their pastors at the end. I prayed for George.
We sat at a table with Paul and Tara and two guys I did not know. Paul and Tara were waiting for Sarah to get back from Thunder Bay. Paul tried to convince me that Thunder Bay was closer to us than North Bay. He was going to look at a map when he got home.
One of the guys are the table was named George. I asked him why he had chosen this Church to attend. I don't quite know what I expected as an answer, or quite why I asked the question. But he breathed in and then everything came out. About his family. About what happened when his mom died. About Montreal. About where he's thinking of moving. About his girlfriend. He didn't answer my question though. And so ages later, I asked it again. And he answered. And I understood why he didn't want to tell me the first time. A sweet, sweet man with so much pain on the surface.
The dinner was partly a goodbye dinner for the pastors. The Wicks are moving to Saskatchewan. The Church a block away needs a new pastor. They are a Church in transition now. And that can be difficult, but they seem very positive about it. I think I may go to a few of their evening services in the next few weeks to help pray for their transition. When they prayed for their pastors at the end. I prayed for George.
posted by Aphra at 9:53 PM
1 Comments:
I always get a kick out of the signs you see as you head toward North Bay. They say something about the Far North! And I think you start seeing these signs somewhere around Huntsville. If that is Ontario's far north, what do they call Pickle Lake? Or Moosonee for that matter!
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