Tales from a Pastor's Wife- Part 1

 (note:this is long. and there aren't any pictures. I'm sorry.) 
  I had never imagined myself one day being a pastor's wife. Not that I was against it, just that I hadn't really known that many aspiring pastors, or dated any. But I think God often chuckles at how our lives turn out, and who we fall in love with. So now, I am the wife, the "femme de pastor" at a little church. I've been given tips and advice and warnings of things to come from those who have gone before me. This weekend, I think I got one of the first tastes of some of what the next years could be full of.
   It did seem fitting that this weekend and all the stress it brought, was all because the old pastor at our church was officially retiring. Paul's been taking over and this month is now head pastor. He had to organize the entire service, (not just a regular service, this one had speakers and music and all sorts of different stuff) and the lunch after. 
  So the week before had been very busy. Then it turned out that this other couple from church wanted to have lunch with us. Of course this Saturday is the only time in between last month and the next it would work for all of us. So I start cooking that morning, go meet Paul at church (where's he's working hard on the service for the next day), and we take a 4 hour break (I'm counting train travel here) to go have lunch. Luckily it was lovely, and they were very nice and the meal was great. She talked a lot so there were no awkward silences, but that meant a whole lot of french for me. Towards the end I was feeling pretty tired and struggling to focus on what she was saying. Then it happened. The one time my eyes closed a little too long, she noticed right away and asked if I was okay. I snapped right awake and apologized that a lot of french makes me tired and really hoped she didn't think it was what she was talking about that put me to sleep. (I can't remember what she was talking about) We had some coffee then so things improved. Then back home to make some dessert for the next day-cookies of course. 
  Sunday came bright and early, and rainy. I packed up all the food and got dressed up. (For the record, I made a pasta salad with tomatoes, bacon, corn, and parmesan with a homemade dressing I'm not that happy with. And double chocolate cookies) We were having the service at a meeting hall owned by the town just next to the town hall. We'd invited a couple of other churches where the old pastor had worked at. So we had about 250 altogether. Professional music and sound. Quite a few people spoke and sang and after about 2 hours it was over. 
   Then came the buffet. We had 3 tables that we filled with food so much my salad didn't have room for a while. Everyone swarmed around them piling their plates high. Paul and I didn't feel like throwing elbows so we waited for a bit with some cups of wine chatting with people. Then a nice old asian man comes up with a plate of food and hands it to Paul without saying a word. Then he comes back a few minutes later and hands one to me. What service! We had to stay there till it was all eaten and cleaned up so we could lock up after. There was quite a bit of food left over so I brought some in to work the next day. 
   That's all. Until next time!

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