Rainy Sunday

We spend disgusting amounts of time at coffeeshops. mmmm.

I babysat for Liv, Mia, and Greta yesterday from 4 pm-11 pm.
Their mom and dad were at a wedding. While she was eating dinner, Liv proclaimed, "I bet my mom is dancing with my dad right now. Like Cinderella." Love it.
Mia can say "Elmo" now. I wish I had an easier name to pronounce. Like "Elmo." She has yet to say "Kelly," or anything like it. I love those children. I will love to have some of my own someday. In a long time.

When I came home Wade and I drank beers and watched TAL. His beer was organic.

I am eating a very stale scone.
When I get home I need to make bread.

We are never going to find a church. That's how it feels. People prolly think that's silly. How many churches are their in Chicago? The thing is...I don't know what the thing is, but I guess we are really strange, overly particular people.
I desire things like...
~teaching the scriptures. not an agenda.
~a gospel that is not ground down to just forgiveness of sins OR "just love everyone and don't ask any questions or make anyone feel uncomfortable"
~a place that's not just a huge building full of rich, yuppy people doing their rich yuppy "God blesses ME and I come on Sunday to feel good and here a worship concert." (I realize that this is unkind and ungenorous.)
~the chance to help people.

Going to read, "Jesus Wants to Save Christians." and then some Henry James now.