Flip-flops in Snow

I think I have finally discovered my problem with blog-posting. I tell the stories of my life to my friends instead of sitting down to type them. I have some really great people in my life, and we love to sit and talk. We go out and do stuff, but always end up in restaurants or each others’ homes hanging out late many nights just so we can talk about our lives, dreams, thoughts, heartaches and all the rest. If I spent that amount of time typing those stories and experiences. . .on top of what I spend talking about them. . .I would have to dedicate my life to just these two things. There aren’t enough hours in the day for that. I’m sorry that my blogging friends get the short end of the stick on this one, but I’m trying to strike a better balance.

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This past weekend was really great and has lots of little fun stories wrapped in it. My big sister, Renee, came to visit here in Michigan. This is so exciting because she’s great, and I miss her, but also because she is the first one of my family or close friends to come visit me since I moved. I love showing this place to people and telling them about this city and how Rochester Church is working to be engaged with it. I have never felt more in tune with my community than I feel here, and I still have so far to go in that area. Sharing that with Renee was super-fun.

We went to lots of restaurants because that’s a big local thing to do here is go to all the cool places to eat. It’s really funny to do this with Renee because she doesn’t particularly care about special restaurants the way I do. She was a great sport about it, though, and I definitely kept her running around to things. We celebrated her birthday in an appropriately low-key way (which she prefers). We went to a Tigers’ baseball game (my first in Detroit), drove around the D to see the sights, helped one of my friends move into a new apartment, heard some cool music from another friend who’s trying to make it in the music business and spent a lot of time hanging out with my very cool friends.

I loved having Renee here and look forward to her next visit already. We must have made a list of about 100 things to do the next time.

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This week, it’s back to the grindstone. I’ve spent time recovering from VBS, time starting initial plans for the next big phases of this ministry, spent time entertaining friends and family. . .so, know it’s time to dig in again. I was telling someone the other day how strange it feels to have low-key times in the middle of the summer. Every summer of the last several years of my life have been God-blessed chaos. They involved traveling for short-term missions, running summer programs for ministries, spending time with families in my church and trying to soak up as much sun as possible. Since this is my first summer here, and there are a few big events on our church calendar that I don’t have significant involvement with, I actually some time to just participate in a few things and focus on vision-casting. I can spend necessary time planning the next big move for our LifeStage in the Fall, and that is such a blessing. I imagine that no summer after this one will look this calm again, so I’m trying to make good use of the time and enjoy it, as well.

So, what does your summer look like? Big plans left in the next two months or low-key chilling with loved ones?

So, I’m a “blog slacker.” That’s the official title I’ve been given, and I must accept it without argument because they are correct. I have neglected updating you, the blog-world, on random musings, family stories and useless insights. I plan to remedy that (with yet another attempt) by catching up on a few things this week, and I won’t disappoint you–starting now. . . .

One of the most blog-worthy events of my year, so far, happened this week. Rochester Church hosted God’s Big Backyard, which is a VBS program. Only we did things a little differently and made it a family affair. We encouraged parents to travel around to the rotation sites with their children and participate in the activities. I have to confess that I’ve been more than a little apprehensive about this idea, too. I’ve participated in variations of a VBS like this before, but not quite the way we did this one.

As usual, God was here all along prodding the ideas along and guiding even when I wasn’t looking, so the whole event was pretty incredible. We had around 90 children during the week (our largest night was ~75), and a ton of parents participated. I’d guess that more than two-thirds of our kids had a parent go to class with them at least one night of the three. It was so overwhelmingly cool to see Moms and Dads laying in the floor drawing pictures, hearing stories and painting crafts together with their children. I’m having a hard time finding the words to describe it, but I’ve spent the last couple days just thanking God for making it right.

I had a dream for this event a long time back, almost right after to started working with this families at Rochester. You see, this kind of event is part of a new direction we are continuing to plow in Ministry for Families with Children. We want to bring parents back into the system inside the church instead of just giving their children knowledge and sending them home to get the rest of the story. Our church really wants to partner with parents (and every generation) to be visible elements in the spiritual life of our children. We’ve been taking baby steps toward that with little events or changes in the routine for several months. This VBS was the first big event to step into this new territory, and God was so there. All the fretting and worry that I built up, trying to determine if I heard the idea correctly. . .if this was really what we should invest in. . .was just my human nature to worry. God saw us through to something amazing.

Two of my favorite things from the week are these stories:

At the end of the first night, four fathers of young children came up to me and commented on how much fun they had spending time with their children at something like this. They really enjoyed getting to be part of them learning about serving others.

On the last night of the event, the mother of a young elementary child mentioned that at this VBS her son could tell her about the Bible point each day, instead of just talking about the activities he did. The little boy talked about how they learned to Serve Family, Community and Jesus because each teaching area repeated those points in different ways.

I cannot imagine a better response than these kinds of things. I know that some of you have asked about more details on how we ran this thing and how the logistics worked out. . .I’ll write more about that tomorrow. Today, I want you to celebrate God fulfilling tiny promises with me, with the Rochester Church family. We are blessed to serve His kingdom with these families, and I am honored to be part of the work.

Alright, already! I’m posting a new entry. So all my lovely blog-reading friends will discontinue with the snarky comments. Seriously, though, it’s been a stressful few weeks. You didn’t want to read what I had to say. Last weekend, however, was possibly one of my top five favorite birthdays ever. You have to hear this story.

The first of this that makes it a big deal is that I just turned 30. If you know me at all, that’s a bit crazy. I have small children friends who think I am their age (5, 2, 11), but certainly not 30. years. old. I’ve been really excited about this birthday because now my age fits my life.

Being a minister comes with the expectation of a little experience and enough age to be trustworthy and wise. My experiences have always far exceeded my actual age, but I look really young. (I’m grateful for that!) I occasionally still get carded at movie theaters, and parents in my church often stare with a skeptical eye when I say, “Hi, I’m Dana–the Minister for Families with Children here at Rochester. Can I help you get your child settled in class?” It very often warrants responses about how I don’t look old enough for the job, questions about how long I’ve worked in ministry or just flat-out requests for my age. Now I get to say I’m 30. I’m hoping that will help. . .but I fear I may be counting on too much. We’ll see how it goes this year.

As for one of the greatest birthday weekends ever, the celebration is still going. It started last Friday when I went to a movie with some of the elders here at church. We went to Johnny Rocket’s for burgers and saw Vantage Point. I love hanging out with these men and having someone to see great action movies with here. Most of my other friends are not so much into the shooting and violence. I say bring on the Rambo sequels and Bourne stories any day! It’s also really nice to spend time with charming men who know how to treat a girl. It’s like being a princess without being treated like you’re fragile–fabulous! Then, on Saturday night, my dear friends Jenny and Emily D. threw me quaint little birthday party. Friends came, junk food was eaten, we played hilarious board games and devoured a chocolate cake. The evening was so much fun, and we will have great stories to tell for a long time. Unfortunately, to protect the innocent. . .most of those stores cannot be told in this venue. Sorry to be so insider. You should have come to the party.

On Sunday, February 24, (which is the big day), another group of elders and their amazing wives took me out for lunch after church complete with a feathered tiara and balloons. I’m not sure if they were glad I wore it the whole lunch or slightly disturbed. Either way, we had a great time talking and laughing. I received some lovely little gifts, and I’m still trying to figure out how I got so lucky to have such wonderful people in my life. That morning, I was also privileged enough to come into a decorated office at church. One of our Admin Team hung up streamers and a poster for people to sign. I’ve left the poster up because I like it so much. The streamers have been very entertaining for the rest of the staff, but finally had to go when they got so tangled I couldn’t pull them apart anymore.

The celebrations continued into Monday with the most lovely lunch I have ever had with a group of colleagues and friends. Instead of going out to a restaurant for an office birthday lunch, one of our staff (Sara B.) hosted us in her home for a family-style meal. She even learned how to make gumbo in honor of my LA roots. We had such a great time relaxing and enjoying each others’ company that I didn’t want it to end. Thankfully, when it did end, it came with an amazing cake from a local bakery that sent us all over the dining edge. Yum-O!

Cards keep trickling in the mail, and I still see people who offer sweet birthday sentiments. It’s been a great year for a birthday so far. I feel so blessed to be with these new friends in this place. Maybe the great frozen North is not so bad afterall. Thanks, everybody!

I do not miss everything about Louisiana, but there are a few things that I almost ache for since I moved away from that home. I miss cypress trees and Spanish moss. I miss live oaks and Cajun accents. I really miss the local food, and I really miss Mardi Gras. I should interject here that I miss true Mardi Gras celebrations–feasting, parades, friends and family coming together to show gratefulness for how God has blessed us. I do not miss (not did I ever enjoy) any of the horrible perversions that have become synonymous with the celebration in New Orleans and a few other places. New Orleans is an amazing city, and there is almost no better place to enjoy Mardi Gras culture, but you really do need to know what parts of town to avoid during Carnival season.

One thing I have learned in moving up North is there seems to be a general lack of celebration like that. It’s possible I just haven’t found the right crowd, but there are very few holidays or festivals that involve things like feasting and fun around here. So, I’ve made it my mission to breathe life into my new circles of influence every chance I get. Fat Tuesday provided that opportunity yesterday. About half of the folks in my office do not know much about Mardi Gras traditions, so this was pretty entertaining. I made up a little party favor package for each of them that had the kinds of things you get at parades–including bead necklaces, but the real star was the King Cake. This cake is served during Carnival season only, and represents many of the traditions tied to Mardi Gras. It’s a lavish cinnamon roll-like cake that’s decorated with a sticky, poured icing and colored sugars. It was described as “a sugar-coma on a plate” at one point.

 We all gobbled up the King Cake first thing in the morning, which quickly induced dangerous sugar-buzz activities. I will gladly accept the blame for that kind of fun. However, the best part of the day came before any real celebrating started. One of my co-workers, not to be out-done, brought their own Mardi Gras beads, mask AND t-shirt. The costume was adorned, the pictures were taken, and I am still laughing about it today. I have proclaimed this colleague as both a hero and the object of much of my affection because of this behavior, as well. I am still explaining to people today that the King Cake had nothing to do with it. I don’t think they believe me. I had intended to post the photo here for sharing, but I think I’ve decided to protect his honor and keep it a secret. It might be more fun this way.

The day ended on another fabulous note because of a local restaurant. Rochester Mills Beer Co. threw a big, restaurant-sized Mardi Gras party complete with Cajun food and live music. I got to eat alligator, gumbo and boiled crawfish. . .in Michigan of all places. The friends who told me about the event, and the others we dragged along, were very gracious to endure my giddiness and most of them were very brave about the food, too. When I get those pics, I’ll definitely share! It was nice to have a little bit of home close by, and I definitely fell asleep to the repeating rhythm of “Mardi Gras Mambo, Mambo, Mambo. . .Down in New Orleans. . . .”

Some people don’t love, or even like, their jobs. Maybe even a lot of people. Some people really like, or even love, their jobs. For one group, it’s hard to find enough good days to justify the bad days. For the other group, it’s hard to give in to the feelings of bad days.

 I have been both of these kinds of people, and will probably waiver between the two again at some point in my life. When I worked in jobs that I didn’t care for very much it was because I needed to pay the bills, and I was able to find work that I could accomplish in exchange for those checks. I feel grateful for those jobs because I was blessed by being taken care of through them. Let me sidetrack here and tell you a funny story from one of them. . . .

In college, I was working in one of the university cafeterias making sandwiches on the lunch shift. Yes, that’s right, something any college student could do at home, I did for them in a cafeteria. We had a sandwich bar with all kinds of choices, and my job was to take the special orders from customers and make their yummy creations. I came very close to hating that job because it was so boring, but I tried to be friendly and a hard worker. I had a few regular customers that came by often enough for us to learn each others’ names and food preferences. One day, a regular politely told me that I was the best “sandwich lady” in all the cafeterias. I was so much nicer than most of the others, and my sandwiches tasted better. I wanted to cry. The “sandwich lady” — seriously!?! He meant it as a compliment, and all I could think about was how annoyed I was by his chosen title for appreciating me, how ridiculous my uniform looked (six different colors–no lie) and the fact that all the sandwich bars used the same food. Which made me think this guy’s not too bright, as well.

But I survived, and soon got another job that led to an even better job. Now, because I work somewhere that I love, I feel guilty about having bad days. Is that pathetic? Or is it just selfish? It’s not even that a “bad day” at the church office is really even all that bad. It usually means that things didn’t go the way I wanted them to go. I like to move faster than ministry work sometimes allows. I want people in my church to snap-to when a need arises, and make it easy for the leaders to provide the right services or programs or classes. People don’t function like that. They make other choices besides church when they decide how to spend their time. They take long breaks from serving because they think others will step-up to fill their places. And almost everybody asks for more services or programming or classes than we are able to provide. That’s what makes it hard, and subsequently, a less-than-stellar day for me.

I have to decide which things get priority over other things. Great new ideas have to wait a little longer to get started because existing necessities need immediate attention. That’s so frustrating. I want to be able to duplicate myself or somehow explain to people that if they will just find one little piece of the puzzle to take or role to fill. . .we’ll all get better results together. It really can be that simple. People don’t want to listen to that, though. They are afraid that if they volunteer and others don’t come along, they’ll be stuck forever. They are afraid to commit to something because other more fun things might pop up later, and they will be stuck in this commitment. It’s hard to get people to trust that church leaders don’t want to abuse their time or pin them to a project with unreasonable expectations of time.

Then other days come along that make all that frustration disappear. Days like this past Sunday, when a couple teachers couldn’t come at the last minute due to family emergencies, and the folks I had to ask to fill-in didn’t even hesitate. I got to spend some great time with a group of young parents that really want to do the right think for their children. It’s really important to them that our kids grow up with a faith foundation that will last. They are reaching out and digging deep to find the best resources to help them. They are appreciative of what’s offered in our church family and want to improve things wherever they can. They are authentic about what time they have available and where the boundary lines must lie to make this system work for the church and for their family. They get it. I want to duplicate them, too.

So, some days are better than others, but the truth is that I probably wouldn’t trade many of the days I have anyway. When you stack them all together, they don’t fit right if there’s too many of one kind. Life is like that. It takes a little mundane and simple to help us appreciate the extraordinary sometimes.

I miss the days when that sentence was a part of my life. When I was going to school in Baton Rouge, every now and then my little gang of friends would tire of the capital city’s entertainment options and restaurants. . .so, we’d head south as fast as the cars could be loaded. It was always a great time and never lasted long enough.

I quickly learned that it’s better to go to New Orleans with people that live just outside the city. They know where not to go. There are lots of places in NO that should be avoided, but there are some great places that shouldn’t be missed, too. I actually long for beignets and cafe au lait, on occasion. That’s kind of sad. I find myself missing Louisiana more the further removed I am from it. Don’t get me wrong, I probably wouldn’t want to live there again, but I like visiting and don’t get down there often enough.

I actually haven’t been to Baton Rouge since the summer I graduated from school, and I haven’t been to NO in a few years. With the BCS national championship football game coming up tonight, I am thinking of the French Quarter, Canal Street, great jazz music, jambalaya tailgating and so many good memories of college football. Now that I live up here in Big Ten territory, it just isn’t the same. Nobody celebrates like the SEC. I’m having friends over, and there will be great food, but there will be more Ohio fans than LSU ones. I might should re-think this. . .?!

To all my friends in Tigerland (or least there in their hearts), here’s a big Go Fighting Tigers from me! Good luck tonight, Boys. Play like you own the place and make us proud.

I love to travel. It’s so much fun to visit new places or return to favorite places. I pretty much like all forms of travel, especially flying. I don’t care much for the actual driving, but I like being on a road trip (with appropriately-timed stops).

Lately, I’ve been traveling a lot–a road trip in November, flying and driving for Christmas and another flight in a couple of weeks for a conference. I never get tired of that. I’m such a restless person that the idea of packing up to go somewhere else is always attractive to me. Flying is my favorite because I get so much done. I adore the concept that I can walk into an airport and give my stuff away to “trusted” handlers and leisurely enjoy the trip while paying others to do the work. I don’t mean for that to sound quite so arrogant as it come across, I just love that kind of convenience. I don’t have to carry my bags, there are restaurants and shopping easily accessible and I can sleep/work/read on the plane. Loverly!

This year’s Christmas trip home gave flying a run for it’s money, though. My fabulous sister does the driving when we go home to LA because she likes driving quite a bit more than me, her car is better and she feels safer that way (no comments from the peanut gallery on that one, please). So, in preparing for our southbound trek, she got the funny idea of researching ways to entertain children on long car trips. I have been known to act like a five-year-old on occasion, and my attention span shortens in direct proportion to the length of time on the road.

Renee, the greatest sister ever, prepared a “travel gift box” for me this time. At appointed times during the trip, I got to open a secret message and get a treat of some kind. I know that most adults would be annoyed with this condescending behavior, but I love treats–hooray! It started out with a gift card to Cracker Barrel for breakfast, included a set of pop culture trivia questions to pass the time and a Christmas coloring book complete with fun markers. Now the icing on the cake of this little gift box was the afternoon snack. . .she went on-line to map out where Starbucks locations would fall along our journey and found one at a convenient time and place. So, I got a gift card for coffee and a pit stop to spend it. There is joy in Mudville, again. Nothing soothes this restless soul better than a well-made latte.

And that’s what I call a successful trip home, my friends. The greatest big sister ever maintains her title without question, and I was significantly less annoying on the ride home. Take pointers, folks, if you ever have to travel with me. My patience can be bought for the right price. . .or at least the right places.

I spent Christmas in my flip-flops, and sometimes in my bare feet. I cannot express how happy that makes me. Yes, I am a simple person for the most part. It doesn’t take much to make me laugh or bring me joy–just ask the people in my office how often they have to say, “What is so funny now?’

I went home to my parents’ in Louisiana for Christmas this year, as we Spivy children always do, and it was lovely for so many reasons. I adore spending time with my family. They are amazing people. My Mom is so funny and loves to have a good time. She and I are kindred spirits that way. I am blown away by her depth of compassion every time I come close to seeing it. I can’t get enough of talking to my Dad. I’m convinced he really does know everything, but sometimes retrieving it from the files in his brain takes a round-about path. He has such creative insight on the world, and he doesn’t even know he’s a genius.

My siblings are weird folk. We are a bit of a renaissance family. None of us has really stuck with one singular passion our whole lives (so far). Between the four of us, we’ve worked professionally in photography, journalism, window sales, restaurants (service and chef), federal law enforcement, medical head-hunting, childcare, telemarketing, retail (book and bicycle varieties), therapy and ministry. Outside of profession, one or more of us has been, or is now, competitive and charitable athletes, published writers, on the dark side of the law, adopted, teachers, missionaries, a spouse, a parent (and grandparent) and differently-abled. I’m telling you that we’re an odd crew, and I love every bit of it. If I could have a different professional job every year and master some skill-set, I totally would. I love my ministry calling, but there is so much out there in the world to do and learn. Sometimes I think the Spivy siblings are trying to accumulate a mass of that desired experience as a team, eclectic bunch that we are.

So, gathering as a family is always fun and loud and full of conversations or stories. We have a lot to share and can hardly get enough of each other. We spent this holiday in our usual way. . .the girls helping Mom finish shopping for Christmas and decorating the tree, the whole family opening gifts together on Christmas day, everybody that cooks chipping in to put together a feast for dinner and then just hanging around to watch tv, nap or play games. This year, we loaded the kids into the car on Christmas eve and drove around to look at lights. We don’t do this every year, so it’s really special when we do.

My parents don’t have a full house of foster-kids right now, either, so things were a little calmer. I still got thrown-up on by one of them, but that’s becoming a Christmas tradition, too. It’s nice when things are occasionally calmer. One of my sisters is not so fond of the chaotic family turmoil that I enjoy so much–this year was especially nice for her. We ate fried turkey, and all our traditional trimmings. My sister-in-law (a pastry chef) made a tres leche cake for dessert this year, and my brother (Executive chef of the Blue Frog Grill) made this delicious bread that we turned into french toast for breakfast that day. Yum-O!

Before leaving Louisiana, my sister and I also got to have Natchitoches meat pies, boiled crawfish and Raising Cane’s chicken. These are all things hard to find in good quality outside La’s borders. It was a great trip, and a little piece of my heart is already counting down the days until I go home again. *Sigh*

So, how was your Christmas?

You think I’m kidding with that title. It’s no joke. The song, although I love it, lies. Snowflakes do not romantically land on your nose or eyelashes and mind their own business. They fly around like wild creatures and get into your eyes and go up your nose when you inhale. Ugh!

That being said. . .I think I still like the snow. It is kind of pretty, and we just had a big storm (ranging from 8-15 inches in my immediate area) with the kind of snow that is sticky. Sticky, wet snow is the kind you see in pictures and movies. It clings to things and makes the world look frosted around the edges. It’s just the shoveling and walking and driving that’s not so good. I am blessed to live somewhere where lovely hard-working men come and do the shoveling and ploughing for me (and the neighbors). I’m contemplating never moving out of my apartment.

 After this second substantial snowstorm, people have asked me how I’m handling the weather and what I still think about moving up here to the “frozen tundra.” I still love it. The weather poses its challenges, but it can be dealt with easily enough. It is far from my family, but I’ll be able to visit them as much as ever before. The area I live in is both pretty and safe. I’m liking this new life of mine very much and so far old man winter’s best efforts have not diminished that.

 Since I haven’t written in a while, there is much to catch up on here. I’ll be doing that in the next couple days. But here’s one story that has already been requested. . . .

When Dana got stuck in the snow–twice!

After the first big snow a few weeks ago, I went to our staff Christmas party which was hosted by our preaching minister, Patrick Mead, and his lovely wife, Kami. I learned the hard way that when there is a big snow, the plough trucks don’t go through neighborhoods much (or at all). So, subdivisions stay covered in thick snow longer than main roads. On my way to the Meads’ house, I got my car stuck in the neighborhood–within sight of the destination, no less. Patrick has lovely neighbors that came to my rescue. They were not expecting a driver to so quickly confess she had no experience driving in snow and didn’t really know what to do when they pushed to make this whole effort work. Funny story for them to tell later.

So, they get me out, and I make it to the party. A little shaken, a little embarrassed, but ready to put it out of my mind. “Oh well,” she says to herself. “This is part of living in snowy climates.” When the party ends, and everyone has heard my panicked story of stuckness, Josh and Kara Graves (another staff member and friend) offer to follow me out to ensure my success in the endeavor. I should mention that another friend and staff member, named Karen Owen, is now riding with me. . .in the passenger seat.

Of course, I get stuck again. Karen wisely suggests that I “rock the car” to get free. Now, this is a snow term I had not learned, so I look directly at her and reply, “Okay, but I totally don’t know what that means.” Laughter. Stifling laughter. Uncontrollable laughter. Josh shows up at the door and insists on driving the car out himself and we can switch on the main road. Karen and I realize the smart thing to do is have the person with experience in the car drive us out, so she takes the wheel, the Graves’ push us through, and we’re off.

 Only, I didn’t quite understand the directions to get out of the neighborhood correctly, and we make another pass around the subdivision (without getting stuck this time) and finally exit to the main road. Oh my gosh. How ridiculous! Now the best part is that Kara is the greatest archivist I’ve every met, and she took pictures. They are posted on her blog under the December 18, entry titled “Staff Christmas Party.” Her blog is in the list on the left. Just look for the white SUV.

Happy New Year. . .and warm wishes!

A couple weeks ago, we had the best Sunday ever at Rochester Church. Well, it might not have been the best. . .but it will rank pretty high in my memories.

We call one Sunday in November “Harvest Sunday,” and we collect clothes, food and people’s time to help our community. Everyone is asked to bring non-perishable food items that will be sorted and delivered to families connected to our church that need a little help close to the holidays. These families also get frozen turkeys. We ask people to bring coats, hats, gloves and scarves that are taken to our friends in Cass Park. Cass Corridor is an area of downtown Detroit that plays host to the majority of homeless individuals in the city. It’s not a fun place by any description. . .but I count down the days until we go each month. I can hardly wait for those days to arrive.

 Lots of folks forget or don’t have time to bring these items, so we also collect money that is designated specifically for the Harvest Sunday projects, too. On Saturday day of this big weekend, we also helped God’s Helping Hands provide Christmas for disenfranchised families in our community. GHH is the largest provider of food and goods for our county, and they grow everyday.

 This year, we gave food packages to more than 30 families, took a couple hundred coats (and accessories) to Cass Park and collected around $1,600 to support those two efforts further. GHH helped 325 families with a record number of 315 volunteers. They asked for 200. Not all the volunteers come from Rochester Church–it’s a community-wide event.

Earlier that day, I also partnered with a friend from church to get together some snack foods and juice boxes for a family who’s father was in the hospital dying. The children in that family go to school with some children from our church. We did what we could to reach out to them and meet some small need. We will also try to hold their hands and pray over there hearts this week because that father has passed away. These children will need extra arms to hold them.

It was an amazing Sunday (and whole weekend). I love that we all got to spend the day giving things away to those who need things most. I am exhilarated by that feeling. I pray that God will work through our hands as we offer up these things to Him. I pray that He will help us to continue to show love and hospitality to our community in the ways most needed, instead of the ones that are merely comfortable.

Rochester Church is incredible every Sunday, but November 18 was a big one for me. Thanks, everybody!