A Church-Hunting Sunday in Our Life

Early morning.
   Thirty minutes from home.
      Driving through low hills...
         covered with mist.
Passing fields of stubble,
   recently harvested.
An old church building
   and a newer addition,
      and a yet-newer aluminum building out back
         arise out of the cornfields.
Visiting preacher,
   a man from Trinidad,
      an old-timey Gospel preacher,
         like I imagine my grandpa preached.
We came,
   we worshiped,
      we left,
         we analyzed.

A quick stop by a rented farm.
   The farmer climbs the grain bin
      to check the moisture content.

And then on to McDonald's
   where we eat and drink and
      enjoy each other's company
         while we wait.

A large empty parking lot
   by another old church building
      with a newer addition
         and a yet-newer aluminum gym.
            Also thirty minutes from home.
Parking lot hug
   from an elderly woman
      who has been sick many weeks.
A lovingly-copied recipe
   and cheerful morning greeting
      from a great cook and fun lady.
Settling into "our" pew,
   noticing the Amish-looking lady at the other end,
      and wondering if I could remain,
         and breathe, what with the service dog under the pew
            in front of my feet.
And the Amish-looking lady's husband stood up.
   Ah! The visiting preacher,
      who preached the ol' timey Gospel.
Heart refreshment.

Buffet restaurant lunch with small group.
   Small group.

A quick stop back by the rented farm.
   The farmer again climbs the grain bin
      to check the moisture content.

Home.
   Fast forward to 11 PM.

A quick stop back to the rented farm
   (almost thirty minutes from home).
      The farmer again climbs the grain bin
         to check the moisture content.

The moisture level of the corn is our oxen in the ditch.