Aidan might just be called to preach. He said he was nervous speaking to 1,000-ish teens, but when he got on stage, he shared freely. Kids came up afterwards and thanked him. One girl asked to have her picture taken with him (okay I am really not ready for this next stage!). She said, “Wow, like, I’m just so amazed at what you did. And you’re twelve. I’m going to start standing up for Jesus now.”
Blackberries and a leisurely (ha!) float ride at Six Flags DO NOT MIX. Yep. A slow, terrible, painful death. If only, if only, I had done this first.
I am pathetically addicted to my crackberry. This annoys me to no end. Jesus, please forgive me! (By the way, it’s replacement is speeding to me tomorrow.)
St. Louis style pizza (no joke) tastes like velveeta cheese on top of a ketchup-wiped cracker.
I still love roller coasters.
I’m terribly proud of my son. To be twelve years old and passionate about digging wells in Ghana is such a humbling thing.
He raised close to 300.00 toward the Sankpem project. (Only 9,700 to go!)
Wet shoes and socks plus Aidan’s feet equals weird, white, brain-like-looking feet.
We worshipped in a church we hadn’t been a part of before, a Church of Christ. For once, my knowledge of singing harmony came in handy! I loved that I could actually hear those men and boys sing! So cool.
Oh how lovely it is to be home. Home is sweeter and sweeter the more I venture away from it.