I’ve already begun to get mail addressed to “Pastor Lindsay.” Sometimes the envelopes also read “The Rev. Lindsay.” [I don’t like those envelopes. Far too formal for this girl.] I’m a pastor. whoa. I had this realization while in Canada on the drive. I’ve meant to share this story with you for a long while but craziness has ensued since returning to the lower 48.
I arrived in Prince George and was ready to find a hotel for the evening. At my second stop in the decent-sized town, hoping to find a room for less than $100 [a difficult task in Canada it seems], I met a super helpful clerk at the front desk of the Ramada. I told him I was looking for a room and wondered how much it would cost.
Is this trip business or leisure?
Uh … leisure?
What company do you work for?
[silence with a likely dumb stare]
I’m trying to find the best deal for you. Maybe your company will offer a discount.
I’m a pastor … [sarcastic laugh]
Oh. Okay.
My first reaction was to laugh. A discount? I’m pretty sure not. There are many perks to being a pastor [senior rates at the YMCA in Austin!] but I’m going to guess discounts at hotels in Canada is not one of them. [Or at least not that I’ve ever heard.] I thought to myself, yeah right. I don’t think so.
My second thought, as I walked away in search of a cheaper room, was to walk with a bit of a spring in my step [a la Professor Lose]. I’m a pastor. How super cool awesome is that? I’m a pastor! It felt great to say it aloud, to own it, and to know that after much schooling and work, I’ve reached the profession – the call – that I am so excited to have. I’m a pastor. [huge grin]
[ps. curious to see more photos from the AAA? you should be able to click this link to access my facebook album of the adventure.]
there's no place like gnome. 
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