My church is hosting a district-wide meeting on Wednesday afternoon.  Before I leave at lunch, I’ll make sure the “hallelujah room”–no, I don’t know why it’s named that–has enough chairs arranged around the table.  Easy cheesy.  I got an email earlier today from the district superintendent suggesting that while he’s there he’d like to take the opportunity to talk to me about the ministry and not about the awesome job I want.   He’s bringing along another person or two, he says.  Presumably to gang up on me and convince me that that’s the direction I should take in my beer drinking, swear-saying, boy-kissing life.

So.  There’s that.

I certainly don’t know what to wear on that occasion.