It has been a great week. Wrapped up yesterday by a neat
performance at the
Truetlin House, a place I'm sure
we will return to. The day also had a sprint (literally) to get to Paula Dean's restaurant so we wouldn't lose our reservation. Some beach time for pics, followed by our traditions and the now famous Clary room Dance Party were a great cap off to a wonderful week of service. Despite a desire for some make believe vigilante justice to a
blond kid on a bike, we have had an awesome week. But, as always, there is no place like home, so we return with new memories and new things to pray for:
Jakori and the other kids and families at the
RMcDH in
Charleston, the people at the Trinity Assisted Living, the kids at Morning Star and
Truetlin House, their programs and funding, those in the Missions and training centers who are battling addiction or mental illness, for the new church being started by our waiter at Lady and Sons, and for our kids that the lessons would stick and that they would lead their lives in a new way upon return.
As we celebrated communion on the beach last night I was reminded how
peculiar we are to be as passer by after passer by looked with questions written on their faces. They saw salt and light and it was strange to them. Our world needs to see more of it.