What’s not to love about July!
“Tis the season for parades, sandcastles, fireworks and fresh strawberries from Marini Farm in Ipswich.
Some complain of heat and humidity. I see both as God’s shove to us timid folks to squeeze into a swimsuit, take the plunge into the chilly Atlantic, and stay submerged until the heat wave passes or we do.
Maggie’s been at camp this week. I had the privilege of picking her up, wondering as I drove to New Hampshire what I’d hear from this recent ten year old about her first experience away from home for an extended period.
“How was it, Maggie?”
“Best week ever!”
The Barbara C. Harris Camp and Conference Center’s part of “A Hospitality Ministry of the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts.” Sometimes we Christians get hung up on language, wanting our words to sound more theologically proper than simply welcoming. No church group thought up hospitality, God did. Our job’s to extend it to folks we might not choose to invite, folks like Zacchaeus (Luke 19) or the Samaritan woman (John 4).
Reminds me of a sign I saw in Invergordon, Scotland, near the Tourist Information shed, close to where our cruise ship anchored. The simple sign, staked into a scruff of land, invited folks in Italian, German, French, English and a language I didn’t recognize:
Join us at the Church of Scotland
TOILET FACILITIES AVAILABLE
Whoever cleans those toilets may just be doing the holiest work around.
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