O! precious is the flow, that makes me white as snow.

I'm pretty well convinced that the only thing more beautiful than worship is the One we give it to.

Gwen organized a Passion of the Christ movie night, and the attendees comprised myself, Aaron, Abby, Jon, T.J., and Laura Mortensen.  We spent the afternoon playing Call of Duty (yes, really) and watching Sherlock (of course), and then we hunkered down for Passion.  We were all appropriately equipped with blankets and stuffed animals and tissues.

We sat on that couch for two hours and – insanely untrue to character, for us – nobody said One. Single. Word.  For two hours.  We barely even moved (unless crying counts).  We sat through the credits, and three minutes of the menu screen, before T.J. ventured to break the silence with a joke about how that was "the clean version."  We all tittered a bit, got some ice cream, and then someone said something about how we should sing hymns.  Aaron said, "Where's a guitar?  I'm not kidding," and then, since we didn't have a guitar, T.J. and Aaron started singing "See His Love" a cappella, which was amazing, and then I dug out my laptop and we lay on the floor and listened to worship music for almost two straight hours.

We all feel a little bit emotionally exhausted, and strangely physically exhausted, now.  But it was amazing.  Just, just, Jesus.  Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.