Friday was spent traveling up and down the road to visit various historic sites, very much a feeling of “if this is Friday we must be in Israel sort of day. It was cold and rainy, a day the Scots would call “drietch,” and we were excited, wet and chilled. My feet had achieved a new degree of “pruney.” So the best thing to do would be to get a hot shower, enjoy a meal and hit the bed. But no, there is a lecture on the Galilee planned for this evening, so after dinner we will be herding ourselves into a lecture hall and listening to a lecture.
This may not be the best plan.
Add to it the lecturer, a very knowledgeable speaker, hails from the South, the south of Africa. He has this delightful lilting twang, and we were in a quandary. Myself, I was hastily taking a few notes, as my seat neighbor said, this is great sermon preparation, and while note taking all the time battling nodding off. By no means was this a boring lecture, indeed, very compelling, but for the most part many of us were battling the energy of the day against the interest of his information. However, not only an informed speaker he was a wise man and finished an informationally laden presentation in 45 minutes. We could all still be in bed before Blue Bloods came on the television.
So from the edge of wakefulness, there was a thin place.
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