Can One Weekend Hold More Joy?

It began this way...


A few of us Harvest women drove through the winter wonderland to decorate the church, and then create handmade wreaths at the Bower Farm.

Are we the cutest bunch you ever saw, or what?
(L-R Wendy, Hannah, Maria, Sarah, Me, Cheryl, Kelly, Angel, Vickie, and Jenny)

We punked the pastor so good...this is what we did to his preachin' table (he doesn't preach from a typical pulpit...)

Then, more fun at the Bower Farm

Greens clipping...

Wreath making...

Christmas music softly playing...

the smell of apple cider filling the air...

The view from just one of the windows (all the views are this sweet - and I overheard more than one or two request to come live at "The Farm"! There is such a peace there.)

some of the simple, homey decorations...

A sweet, sweet scene, no?

Then, my son Isaac had a basketball game - that's him, with the black "shooting sleeve". Skinny. Handsome. Athletically gifted.

Number five-four

Tonight, at my house, the second installment of Focus on the Family's Truth Project. Our college aged small group is going through this excellent curriculum.

Searching for The Truth?

Or enjoying the holiday food?

Our facilitator Jonathan, explaining to us using his Mac (showoff!) how to log onto the Truth Project's website, and sign on to our group.

Furious note taking. This is no frilly study. It is challenging.

In the Word

Bibles everywhere...

I cannot imagine a fuller weekend (or preceding week, for that matter - spent PREPARING for all this!) I imagine I didn't stop to sit down until just now. But along the way, I soaked in each and every amazing moment in all the non stop action. The snow...making my wreath...cutting my hands on wire in the process...punking the pastor (he took it so well!)....time with girlfriends...watching Isaac score a couple of three this morning...small group tonight...all the achingly sincere questions that were posed after the study...the glow that is still in this house.

Have a blessed Advent season, my friends.

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