"Hold on," I say into the receiver.
His question constitutes a beer. I walk inside to the fridge and grab one and stroll back to the Beloved back deck and pick the phone back up.
I'd called Jim, the founder of the International Street Medicine Movement, because Dr. Andrew Chapya in Africa had reached out to me for help. After talking about Jim for a few minutes we'd moved on to catching each other up on our personal lives.
"We missed you at the Flotilla," I'd said.
A few years ago I'd convinced Jim he needed a break for the world and there is no better place to leave the real world than Tybee Island.
"Sarah looked good," he replied. "I saw the pictures."
"Yep," I answered, "you should have joined us."
Then he paused and asked me his physics question.
"Beats me," I answered.
"Me too," he replied.
We hung up and I plop down in my chair and prop my bare feet on the railing. My feet are a golden brown, in no small part, because I work mostly naked on the Beloved Back deck everyday. I think about his question.
It is true that I am a technologically advanced minister-at-large with a world wide congregation that never gets together.
My study is my back deck and my secretary is a Palm Tree with oyster eyes, a coconut bra and a grass skirt.
The sanctuary is the beach which was created by God in the first place and, unlike other ministers, I see no reason to try to make improvements on the design.
There is no dress code in this church so there is little pretentiousness that comes with decided what to wear when worshipping God.Getting here was most interesting and I wouldn't wish the things I've been through on anybody. (That's not true. There are some people I wish it on.) Nevertheless, here I am.
Sipping the beer, I notice how hot it is and decide to go baptize myself.
It's got to be the Seventh Day somewhere.
That's a day of rest.
I give myself the rest of the day off.
It's good work if you can get it.
