This past weekend I spent some time on a winter retreat with the youth group enjoying the remoteness of northern Michigan.  The “mountain cabins” were conveniently located a-top large hills that required venturing up steep roads.  The cabins that lined the street looked really cute, kinda like in those Thomas Kinkade paintings evangelicals are so enamored about.

But when you need “running starts” to make it up a hill, you know the vehicle you’re driving is not made for those conditions.  Still, giving a ride to a van full of high schoolers was fulfilling enough, and worth experiencing the phobia I have of rolling backwards down icy inclines toward my doom (Not to mention the kinds.  I knew I put those waivers in the registration packets for a reason).

Well, starting here is like my weekend.  Maybe something good will come of this, like a van full of cheering teenagers  as we finally reach the top of the hill and pull into the driveway of our log-cabin.  Then again, I may suddenly begin rolling backwards and begin wishing I would have saved me some embarrassment.  Or maybe it’ll just take a few tries.  Whatever happens, I welcome you- friends, strangers, brothers & sisters.

Shalom.