The Lutheran Ladies' Circle: Plucking One String Read Online Free Page A

morphed to Christian rock. Sermons are available anytime on podcasts, not just Sundays. You can stay at home and go to a meeting via streaming video. It’s frightening. She’s losing the history that molded her faith. The same foreboding happened to my Norwegian parents when they no longer could find a church service in the old tongue.”
    Hettie unlocked her cars doors. “Someday Vera’ll go off like an asteroid hitting a nuclear plant. No telling what’ll happen to this place.”
    “Until then, we’ve got God’s sense of humor and Walt’s bald-faced honesty.” Brynn pointed to the church marquee.
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Advent  

    “LADIES, I TRIED to avert this disaster, but it seems my knowledge of our history isn’t useful or needed.” Vera sniffed as she tapped her pencil against the agenda and scanned the women. The conversations around the table at the Ladies Circle faded or paused. The meeting should have started ten minutes ago, but the chocolate hadn’t arrived yet.
    “What disaster?” asked Hettie as she carried a coffee pot from the kitchen. She locked eyes with the older woman as she sat with a heavy plop. She shouldn’t enjoy the way Vera’s mouth turned down when challenged, but the dynamics were one of the interesting things about these meetings. She felt a bit guilty about poking Vera’s sore spots, but in the past when Vera’s husband, the pastor, was alive, there hadn’t been any chance of influencing a discussion. Now, after a bit of nudging, a few fractures were appearing in Vera’s decisions. Unheard of.
    “This is what happens when a church calls someone right out of seminary.” Vera didn’t bother to hide the I-told-you-so in her voice. She’d voted against calling Poe Muldoon for their pastorate. He was a sincere minister, but Shaded Valley Lutheran needed a leader whose theology had been seasoned by cranky parishioners and pushy liberals. “These untested pastors get many of their ideas from internet forums and sensitivity groups.” She shook her head.
    Nan had seated herself at the corner of the table, far away from Vera. Her latest defensive weapon rested in her lap: a wad of yarn and a pair of needles. Busy hands would keep her mouth shut. No one paid attention to a woman knitting and minding her own business. She could watch the action without becoming collateral damage.
    “This year, the pastor and the Worship Committee have decided that Advent has become overshadowed and overlooked.” Vera straightened her already erect spine a bit more, lifted her chin, and paused, letting the silence build. With warning in her voice, she announced, “We can’t decorate or put up a Christmas tree until Advent is over.”
    Kay ruined the dramatic moment by shooshing across the floor, still in her bedroom slippers. She slid a plate of chocolate-oatmeal cookies in front of Micki, sat down, and laid her head on her folded arms on the table. Her face had crease lines from the pillow that had been piled under her nose until a few minutes before this Saturday morning meeting.
    “Why’d you even bother coming?” curly-haired Micki asked.
    “Cookie K.P,” she mumbled, shooing a hand at the plate of treats being passed around.
    Nan bit her lip. Her heart changed to a samba-beat of worry. Her knitting needles clicked a quick tempo as they birthed a mitten. As church organist, she planned for events. She understood what Vera was trying to tell them. With a grip on her needles, she pulled her lips tight against her teeth. She wasn’t going to say a word. Nope. Let someone else get picked for more work.
    “As I was saying,” Vera raised her voice, “if we wait the entire four weeks for Advent before allowing Christmas into the sanctuary, we’ll be doing four weeks of decorating in four days.”
    Silence descended upon the table, as though someone had taken the Lord’s name in vain.
    “Now, wait just a minute.” Hettie scowled. “I teach. I can’t decorate 24 windows