You are mine. I love you.

It's a beautiful Sunday. We're watching the Rams lose and Tyler is making Hoppin' John Soup - something he ate in Kentucky growing up.

I met with my teacher yesterday to plan my Wednesday yoga class. I just typed out everything I would say in each pose to get it in my head. I'm going to practice my sequence and time it out, and then go practice teaching with my fellow teacher trainees.

At church we're going through Hosea, one of my favorite books. Hosea was the book that made the Gospel click in my head for one of the first times (so somewhere between the first and the millionth time, because it always feels like the first time). This morning our pastor discovered that all of his notes didn't upload onto his kindle, so he winged it and it was awesome.

At the end he asked us to close our eyes, and he said things like what God must have said to Gomer in the desert. "You are my daughter... I love you..." When I went to church this morning I was feeling weird. Like nothing could touch me. I'm usually either there, or on the verge of a breakdown. At one point he said, "What you see in the mirror is not what I see... What you see on the scale is not what I see... You are mine... I love you." Thankfully everyone's eyes were closed, because I was ugly crying. It was uncomfortable.

But it was beautiful. At least maybe for the next couple of hours I'll remember all that stuff. But really, I need to be reminded of the Gospel every five seconds. Tyler is pretty good at reminding me.

We looked at puppies yesterday, but we are hooked on Boxers. We looked at a Lab-Boxer mix, got in the car and I said, "I feel weird considering buying a lab." Tyler said he felt weird too. And when we got home I loved on Charlotte like a crazy person. She slept in our bed. I'm not sure if it's a sin to love a dog so much, but... sorry.

And onto the next week. PS. my sister Alyson ran 20 miles this morning. What a freak.