"Sarah, where are the missionaries?" It was five minutes before church was supposed to begin. I had walked outside to see if I could spot them walking from either the bus or tram stop. Little Sarah, from Kenya, was outside doing the same. One of the mission team girls had been staying with her all week. "If anything happens to January, you're responsible."
"I saw her this morning."
"Well, that doesn't do us any good now, does it? What about the two guys?"
"I saw them this afternoon. It was John's idea."
I then realized that she wasn't saying "saw" ... but "sold."
Me: "Who did you sell them to?"
Sarah: "I don't know. I didn't ask."
Me: "Well, I hope you kept the receipt."
Sarah: "No, I didn't want to have to pay taxes."
Me: "But you wouldn't have. They were tax exempt ... them being with a not-for-profit organization, and all."
Sarah: "oh ... can I sell you later?"
Me: "No, but that's only because I've lived in Germany a number of years. But you should ask your lawyers. There should be some loophole in the law books concerning the selling and trafficking of missionaries, even those who have lived in the country for a certain period of time."
Sarah: "I should have done that before I sold the others."
Me: "And when you talk to them, ask them about slander."
Sarah: "Slander? Why?"
Me: "Here, I'll show you."
At that moment, Comfort, from Ghana, was walking up to the church. We exchanged kisses and I asked her,
"Did you know I'm getting married in May?"
Comfort: "Oh, how nice. It will be our first HIBC wedding."
Me: "Yes, isn't it great news! I just found out about it this afternoon. Sarah told my father about the wedding last night and he confronted me about it this afternoon after the service in Celle."
Sarah: "Oh ... ha ha ... I told him that it was just a dream ... I dreamt that you had told me that."
(a minor detail that my father left out ... all for the sake of a sermon illustration.)