flotsam, there is something wrong with me

I still arrive late for church

Growing up – back in the days (gasp) before cell-phones and always-on communication, to be late to meet my parents was to send them into a spiral of worry. And that meant Trouble.

My sister and I learned not to be late. We at least learned not to be late without first calling to say so.

An expected hour late is less painful for the person waiting than 2 minutes of dear Lord what’s happening where are they??? Continue reading “I still arrive late for church”