Family Camp Irony

I’m spending this week leading worship and speaking at a family camp in Michigan’s favorite opposable — the thumb. God has been here and is great; the people are wonderful; the food is great. However, the irony is that I’m at a family camp without my family. Emily and the kids are back home. The camp I’m at has been gracious in offering a place for the whole gang, but we decided it would be challenging to keep our offspring properly wrangled. As it turns out, the doors have locks. Perhaps it would have worked ok.

I wish they were here.

It’s ok. I’ll be home soon. And ministry will have happened. And I will hug my wife and children tight (not too tight, though). And the Lord gets the glory. And I’ll smell like camping. And all will be just fine.

PS: Happy birthday to you. You know who you are.