First, I went at the wrong time. I thought the service was at 10, but it was 930, so I came back at the 11AM one. The 930AM one sounded full and rowdy...a band and laughing, but it had a lot of people, if the lack of parking was any indication. The 11AM one had about 20 people. But I liked it.

The minister is a total hoot. Just a person with a lightness of spirit and heart. People like that who go to seminary school are the most amazing ministers. They are full of the light of God. Ministers like that bring me to church and God because they make my doubts laughable to me. Canon Marcia is a minister like that, too. This was like meeting her seminary fraternal twin.

And he was funny. Rituals in my church are typically very solemn, but this guy ate the bread and the hymns had stopped and we were all waiting for him to speak the next prayers. He put his hand out in that "just a minute, so sorry my mouth is full" gesture. During communion. I giggled along with everyone else. Then he said, "My mother raised me to not speak with my mouth full." Then I just laughed my ass off with the rest of the congregation. I liked that he was a real person administering sacraments.

Then I was looking around at all the stained glass and dreaming of the church I grew up with. This church is New England style, too, and in the middle of the West, so not really what you'd expect, but it felt like home.

I prayed for the landlord again. I prayed for my family.

I took communion. So I'm back to working on my flagrant cussing thing. Shi...I mean...darn.