Come again some other day

At three-oh-four Sunday morning, I’m wondering if the worst of the miserable hot summer is over and heading toward cooler cider season, because for the past few days, sliding open the porch door at this hour I’m not slammed in the face with a blast of air too close, hot and steamy for breathing. Over the Gulf, the southern summer night sky is intermittently lightning, but no thunder wafts through. A nice day would be bless our wonderful Sunday at hand, our best of the year with young families and dozens of children piling their school backpacks around the Altar to be blessed for Tuesday’s schoolday and the year ahead. Rain, rain, go away. Come again some other day. 

Sometimes that rhyme charm works, it’s worth a try, sorry if your reservoir is going dry.

One of these days I’m going to ask my favorite weather lady why typhoons seem to be coming off the coast of California this season instead of hurricanes off the coast of Africa. Has anyone besides me noticed that? If so, don’t mention it: the Evil Eye forever lurks.

As well as Backpack Sunday, it’s Rally Day, when everyone who leads a ministry puts up a tri-fold telling folks about it. I went in yesterday, updated mine and put it up. Two things: Adult Sunday School and Tuesday morning Bible Seminar. Instead of taking a recess, we ran Adult SS through the summer this year. Tuesday morning Bible Seminar resumes September 8th, the day after Labor Day.

Not to mention today's scrumptious feast when Uncle Bubba will eat too much.

T+ in +Time

What’s +Time? It’s my life’s overtime. Wishing me long years.