What a morning!

A bit of background. I found a French translation of Stuart Townend's setting of Psalm 23 and suggested we could sing it this week. I'd been asked to produce the order of service, so I popped it in. Also we had a church lunch. Also I had forgotten that there was the English Class supper at a kebab house last night. Oh - I'll just tell you the story...

I prepared the order of service before the English Class and emailed it off to the pastor. Then after the class we went off for our supper. I had ordered a lamb and prune tajine, and very nice it was too. Tajine, a can of tropical Minute Maid and a couple of glasses of mint tea came to 7 euros - about 4 quid. Then caught the night bus home. While on the bus I realised that it was now too late to get diesel and that I would have to get it from the automatic, unmanned petrol station round the corner on the way to church. Oh well... Desperate times call for desperate measures...

This morning. Finished preparing the Powerpoint while Pat cooked the chilli for the church lunch. We'd been asked to sing the first verse and chorus of the Psalm 23 together to teach it to people. OK. Our debut as Pessac's answer to Sonny and Cher. Finally everything was ready and we hopped into the car to get diesel. As we left the filling station Pat realised that she had forgotten the rice cooker, so we went back to the house to get it.

Then as we hurtled along the motorway to church I realised that I had left my bank card in the petrol pump. EEEK! So we phoned the pastor to say we'd be late and went back to look for it. It wasn't there (of course). We went back to the church (we weren't late) and the pastor said to ring straight away, so I started tracking down the right number. Got through to the control centre. It turns out that there are several Alan Davey's in France! Anyway after a bit of jiggery pokery she found my card and stopped it.

Meanwhile the pastor was stringing out the announcements and also informing people that I was just stopping my bank card having left it in the petrol station. When I sneaked back into the church the chap next to me asked if I'd managed to stop it. Then in the prayer time one of our guys prayed that God would sort out the problem of the card so all would end peacefully. I'd arranged people to read, but I hadn't arranged introducers for the offering or the confession of faith, so I did it. Probably badly!

By the time lunch came I felt ready for it! And the chilli was not at all bad. And a really nice camembert that crawled off the plate onto the fork.

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