Just forty-five minutes into the new year, the clock seemed to have slowed down. Dag was seated in the eighth row of what must have been over a hundred seats. He was closer to the back than the front, not because he didn’t care enough to sit close to the preacher but because he and Betty had arrived much later than they planned to.
He had been out riding one of his Father’s horses that morning. His thighs were still a bit sore.
The church they were in preferred to pray rather loudly. It was very unusual to Dag. But he was embracing it. He was liking this preacher, Brother Nick. He was enjoying the music. Every few minutes, he inwardly thought to himself, “Wow”. It was nothing like he knew church to be. But he was rather tired. And he was nodding off.
Betty nudged him. She was not going to easily let him sleep at the service. Crossover service happened once a year. And it was worth being awake for.