The Pagan and the Pastor's Wife

I have a super amazing friend named Summer. I found her one night on Facebook while trying to locate people living in my new town. She was pretty crunchy, herself, and we started writing back and forth. She was honest with me: she is Pagan. I was honest with her: my husband was the pastor of the First Baptist Church. The two of us asked, "Why can't we be friends?"

And so we were.

Three years later, I am still Christian, she is still Pagan, and we're still friends ... really great THIS-MOVE-SUCKS kinda' friends.

I adore her. I adore her for so many reasons, but today took the cake. See, she got to go to BlogHer this past weekend. I was insanely jealous, mainly because I had someone I know IRL right there and I didn't get to share it with her. We would have had so much fun (making private jokes under our breath). But alas, she made the journey, with baby in tow.




She had two sponsors to appease, as well as a super yummy baby to care for. Yet, what else did my favorite Summer do? SHE BROUGHT ME SWAG, BABY!

I got this (holy cow, does she know me!):



And a giant bag full of all kinds of crap (some of the crap was made of chocolate!):



Check her out on the Hotslings high gloss promo.



She also let me hold her sweet Saffron almost the whole stinkin' time she was at my house. Yum, yum, YUM!

I love this chic. I love her kids. Tonight my husband said, "Ya' know, I've never really been able to hear Evan talk until today and you sound JUST like him!" I do a GREAT impersonation of her oldest. He has the most absolutely adorable dialect on the planet.

I think there are some who might think it is great how God put me in her life. I would have to say they've got it backward. I am crazy blessed to call her my friend.