All of which tempts me to muse about how, now that Matt's deployed, I feel like cream that's missing its cookies.
I hope that sweet metaphor doesn't make you want to toss your cookies.
In other news, I'm grateful for the lenten group I've been meeting with at church. It's an odd mix of people, but we've gotten to a place that's beautiful and tender. It's a little bit like I hope church community will always be--a place to take this stuff seriously, and to really struggle with that means. All the while knowing that somebody's got your back. It's not like any other class I've led here before--a bit more like retreat community, but not even exactly like that. Refreshing.
Almost as energizing as laughter over a birthdays cake (not a typo--it was for 2 people) in the office today, as momentum began to gather for an idea I shelved a while ago: worship using ikea-style pictograms as liturgy. My dear coworkers thought it would be fun to illustrate the 10 commandments with pictograms. (I thought it all sounded a little naughty. I mean: the international sign for "do not commit adultery"!?!?) Sacraments might be easier.
But, who are we kidding. I have no time for pictograms. I have 1500 pages of petitions to General Conference to be reading. Like, I suppose, most things that are worth doing, I had no idea what I was getting into when I registered myself as someone willing to be elected to our delegation.
My new hope: we'll be so buried in paperwork and worn out from days upon days of plenary gathering (with no day off in the middle--hey: isn't Sabbath one of those 10 commandments?) that we won't know how to block the Holy Spirit when she blows through the Fort Worth Convention Center. Who knows what might be in store for the United Methodist Church?!
And, who knows where those cookies ended up...