In the Pulpit
by Nina
I had to leave the synod assembly to get there in time for Saturday evening worship. Sunday morning I woke up to preach again feeling ill. I still managed to make it through the worship service, deliver my sermon, and even chat with parishioners and visitors afterward...though I went straight to bed when I got home to my parents house.
I found it simultaneously affirming and very awkward to shake hands and speak to people on the way out of worship. I got everything from a silent nod, and 'that was a nice talk,' to 'Yay Nina!' The most meaningful interaction was probably the man who waited until the end, saying 'I wanted to be last' and giving me a big hug. His daughter, who was my high school classmate, died last year of cancer. I was honored to be his preacher that day.
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