Adapting

Yes, the pace is definitely slower here except on the I-95 where people make up for lost time gangbusters. Am I suffering a form of culture shock? I think so. In the public ministry this morning we were part of two car groups that joined up in the territory and went about things with, to me, an unaccustomed leisurely pace. My guess is that the predominantly hot weather here favors reflexes different than those in a colder climate. Not that I'm one for scurrying about but I do have an eagerness to find someone willing to talk and happily Carol and I succeeded.

We called on a woman from Jamaica who reads her Bible. She got it out to show us a scripture important to her and I could see much underlining and highlighting. We spent a pleasant 45 minutes with her and hope to see her again.

After leaving the group we wanted to revisit interested persons we met last week. First, we stopped at a fast food place for a quick lunch. There I go again. I called it a fast food place, didn't I? I said "quick lunch." The service was as slow as soup with chopsticks. But all the other customers take it as normal so one acquiesces to yet another lesson in patience. With such intensive training I'll soon be able to stand still in one place for a week.