There are some people at the church doing construction work on the roof due to some hail damage we incurred recently. I should be more specific about what kind of people are here: men. Construction men. Construction men who were inexplicably given a key to my office. So I sit here in my isolated office which doesn’t offer a view of the door, usually all alone, while a number of strange men have free access to my building.
Yesterday morning, one of them came in the offices to use the restroom. He must not have realized I was here because he didn’t bother to close the bathroom door. I had called out, “Good morning,” because I thought it was the pastor, but Mr. Construction Man didn’t hear me.
I heard him, though.