So, last night when I got back from Memphis, I checked the mail, anticipating a lot because Elizabeth and I had been gone since Wednesday. And there was a good bit of mail, almost all of it for me, so I was really excited, especially since there were some cards there, and I thought people had actually sent me birthday cards or something (my birthday is Oct. 22, hint hint). No such luck. What I got instead were four, count ’em, FOUR cards from members of a church I had visited the previous Sunday, and they all thanked me for visiting and urged me to come back soon. I had already received a personal visit, two emails, and a phone call, so getting all of these cards was a bit…overwhelming. I don’t know whether to be mildly disturbed or encouraged by this. And then I felt bad that I was slightly annoyed by it because really it is a nice gesture and a lot of the other churches I’ve visited haven’t followed up at all. So in all actuality I should be grateful, but instead I was annoyed that there were no birthday cards. I am scum. Selfish, cynical scum, at that. How can Jesus love scum? Sometimes I wonder.