Sunday

So, this was a good Sunday.

Worship was good, and Pastor David gave my favorite comment: "God is not an American. He's not even a Westerner." I can't quite recall how that fit into Eph. 1, but I'm glad that it did. Cause I wish Americans would remember that sometimes.

After church, we went to my parents' house, and I found out that my mom had tickets to the Big Bad Voodoo Daddy concert. It was sweet. For the first hour, the Philharmonic orchestra played. It was good, but I was eager for BBVD to come out. Obviously, the second half of the concert rocked. I was just wishing that I'd had a swing partner cause they told people that the ushers wouldn't stop them from dancing in the aisles.