Anyone who goes to a church that hosts a conference will identify with me when I say that the conference doesn't start the night the first speaker is scheduled to preach.
The conference starts days, even weeks before with preparation, setup, and execution of plans.
There are chairs to set up,
songs to practice,
cars to wash,
and many behind the scenes items.
Preparing food and cleaning the grounds doesn't even start the list.
But it's ok.
The work is almost enjoyable.
Cause it's our work.
Our church, and our conference.
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I showed early Thursday night to help with the arriving ministers and guests.
The top was about ready to get blown off this place.
The previous Wednesday night, after witnessing to a guy we found playing the guitar outside of Excell Fitness, Tylor and I made our way to Bridgeport mall.
Our mission? To find Tylor some new church shoes and maybe a suit if the price was right.
The price was right, and Tylor walked into prayer that first night looking sharp in his new suit.
We started off with Psalm 150, and had a great worship service.
Bro. Looper Preaching
The banquet in the chapel the first night is always a vision of Canaan land.
Overflowing with milk, honey, and Elder Morton.
I made a quick dash to Mikey's Pizza to hang out with everyone, before going home to change and get back to the church to help with the cleanup crew.
I am most fortunate to be a part of the Thursday night clean up crew.
Not only do I get to rub shoulders with the most entertaining people at midnight, we get to enjoy the leftovers of the before described feast.
I only eat dessert on special occasions.
And I deemed Labor Day weekend to be special enough.
I mean, how can you resist stuff like that?
I ate so much that I stumbled into the commons and had to lay down in the corner, so I could quietly moan and hold my enlarged stomach.
View from the floor.
Max always keeps it interesting.
What is one of the few things that can get me out of bed at 6am in the morning, after an extremely late night?
Next post, Miller Woods.
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