Daughter came home in a relatively good mood. She hung up on me mid-afternoon because I wouldn't drop everything and go pick her up. She got upset about something, and as always, her first impulse is to run away. As always, I refused to come rescue her, telling her I had confidence in her. By the time she got home whatever it was had been forgotten. I was concerned, because she told me she was up until 2:00 this morning packing. I was afraid she'd be grouchy, and I needed her cooperative for worship.
This evening we had our Maundy Thursday service. I get bored, and like to change things around. So this year, I wrote a drama for Maundy Thursday. It's nice, because I have people who are eager to support my crazy ideas. We had 8 people with parts tonight, and one of our members had written new lyrics for a hymn that went with the drama. His wife was surprised-- she didn't know he was doing that until she read it in the bulletin. Actually, until someone else pointed it out to her in the bulletin. The pianist's husband was there tonight. He took exception to some of the language in the communion service. He went and told one of the men about it. I came home and looked it up, and found the language in question comes straight from our worship book. I was worried, because I'd written all the communion liturgy, and thought I might have made a mistake.
Other than the complaints about language (from someone who comes from a very different tradition), the feedback on the service was very positive. This congregation is very appreciative of the work I do, which is nice. Have I mentioned lately how much I love my life.