The preacher man on the other end of the line has gone to look for his pencil.
He’s nervous. I can hear him stumbling around his residence. His fingers beep, fumble with the buttons on the phone.
In the background, a loud woman on TV is instructing him to pull out a calculator and do the numbers with her. The good Reverend is busy.
He returns breathless. I can hear the smile in his voice. He has found his pencil. Another point for the power of prayer.
April 23, 1997