Woo Hoo!

Cindy Weber here!  But not for long--I'm headed off to Israel tomorrow, which just sounds better every time I say it.  I'm from Louisville, and pastor the sweetest little church that you could ever imagine.  I'm just saying that because several of my church members have told me that they are going to read this.  But it's true, actually.  Sweet, and tough, too.  Wise as serpents and innocent as doves both.  Okay, I'm rambling.  But I'll tell you that they did this blessing of me on Sunday, and they asked the children to gather around and touch me, and then the adults touched a child, and it was just the best thing ever, all those holy little hands reaching out to bless me.  Earnest little eyes looking up at me.  It was just after we did a blessing of our new deacons, and then they served communion to the church, and then to each other, and it was so fun watching those salt of the earth people standing there in the middle of our circle, grinning and tearing up, too, as they broke the bread and passed the juice.  I will miss you guys, and as I said, light a candle everyday if I can find some matches.  (After being fined $500 by the FAA for carrying flammable camping gear last year--long story--I'm sure not going to pack any!)  I will also say your names to myself as I stand by the Sea of Galilee, wind whipping in my face, Jesus-water on my toes.  By the way, did you know that there's this whole syndrome that people get when they get to Israel, and they are just so overcome that they don't even know who they are? They will think that they are John the Baptist or someone, and they will eventually end up in the emergency room, and the doctor will say, "Oh, that's the whatever it's called syndrome," and then they will call home and have the person talk to their mother or their son or whatever, and it will bring them to their senses.  So I talked to Beth Hedges today about this, and we were trying to figure out who I would be if I get that syndrome, and she suggested Jesus (I mean, you might as well go the whole nine yards, right?), but I was thinking the Queen of Sheba.  So if you get a collect call from the Queen of Sheba, answer it by all means, and tell me who the heck I am.  I will appreciate it, and so will all my traveling companions.  

Love,

Cindy