This afternoon, my fellow staff members and I will be meeting the newly appointed senior pastor who will officially begin serving at the end of July. The itinerant and appointment system of the United Methodist Church is a tradition filled with honor, covered in prayer, and anxiously exciting, all at the same time.

I have experienced pastoral changes, yet only as a layperson, never as a staff person. Sweet memories of hauling youth to clean bathrooms for the incoming, and helping pack up kitchens for the outgoing warm my heart. Transitional face-to-face meetings filled with moments of shared prayer time as we begin new adventures remind me of the power of prayer.

That said, I have a problem.

My hands are blue.

Seriously, my hands look like a Smurf (that’ll tell you my age).

I was moving wet laundry from the washer to the dryer and a new blue sundress got tied up in the agitator. After wrestling with the machine and freeing my new blue sundress, I looked down and discovered my hands are blue.

I have tried soap, baking soda, toothpaste, and all the other home remedies that #1 son researched to no avail.

I hope the new pastor has a good sense of humor. I now have to go through my closet and instead of finding shoes to match my outfit to make a good first impression, I will be trying to find an outfit to match my hands.

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