there was this church i went to, once. middle of the country. the whole church was red. inside, outside. the people i went with called it the red church.

because they were creative like.

inside this red church were a few elderly members of the congregration.

and a hell of a lot of ladybugs.

you had to watch where you sat, where your feet fell as you walked to the altar.

all these ladybugs in this quiet, content church.

sun shining through the stain glass.

there's this other church, outside of atlanta. country church, too.

full of gospel and multigenerational families. i went there on mother's day.

after the service, after the emotional tributes not only to biological mothers, but spiritual, as well, i went back to this dorm i was staying at for that night, called my mom on the payphone.

there's this massive, huge church in the middle of the city. it's so huge, it has two racquetball courts. not one, but two. a library, a bookstore, a "fireside chat room."

there was a jumbotron behind the pastor.

that was one of the coldest places i've ever been to. not temp wise, either.

there was this little boy there, though. he sat with his back to the pastor, playing football with a small triangle. he'd flick it, it would go behind the pew, he would climb up and over and through a stranger's leg to get it.

he was pretty great.

and kim was there.

she is pretty great.

speaking of which. she emailed me tonight. first line was:

i'm not giving up on you. don't ever think that.

she had me at hello... she had me at hello...

heh.