It started out as just another Sunday morning for the Peterson family with all of them together at the St. James Baptist church.
A tall, gangly sort of man with a receding hairline, dressed in his best blue suit and wearing a pair of glasses, Thaddeus Peterson was the pastor of the church. Holed up in his little office, sitting in his high backed chair, he was digging desperately through the open briefcase lying on his desk but not finding what he was looking for.
When he finally gave up on his search, grumbling irritably to himself, he instantly grabbed his cell phone and called up his wife.
“It’s me, honey. Listen, it looks like I’ve gone and forgotten all of the notes I made for this mornings sermon. I got them out to make a few revisions last night and must have left them on the desk. Do you think you could run home and get them for me?”