Sunday Mornings

I go to church on Sundays, both the morning and evening services. It seems to be that going to both services anymore is unusual, almost no one shows up at night anymore. The preacher, music minister, a small core of the congregation, and myself are all that can be expected to come on any given Sunday night.

Of course I don’t go to a large church, so when I say ‘small core’ I generally mean about five or six people. The whole congregation isn’t more then about fifty people on Sunday mornings with only a few visitors.

I’ve been listening to the preacher a lot more in the last few weeks. Been trying to take notes as much as possible, instead of just messing around with a story or something. Generally speaking I don’t type so much as read what I’ve already written. See yesterday’s post about writer’s block.

One of the best things about Sunday mornings is sitting here with my tea (Peet’s Irish Breakfast) and watching the people interact with each other. If you’re a writer and you’ve never been to a small church, you should go to one and sit in the foyer and just watch people. It’s quite different then how people act around each other in the “real world”. Even how the same two people act towards each other in church is different then how they act outside to each other.

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