"When we preach a sermon that belittles sin, we belittle Christ." -Dan Horn

Bereans?

Rick Riggins

No, I don't know him, but name tags give a lot away.

As do purses.

Homemade name tag reads: I am BILL EINWECHTER'S son-in-law.

Trying to capitalize on the celebrity value of the Einwechter name, eh?

Oh yeah, it pays to be an Einwechter.

Love the Church, which means love the people in the Church, which means - I get to love these girls!

Me and my lens holder.

Emma was the only one with a bag big enough.

Trouble is her heart wasn't big enough.

(Just joking. Emma toted stuff for us all weekend.)

After conversation in the Vendor Hall and supper in the Dining Hall, we head back for more sermons in the Lecture Hall.

"God the Father has never thought of you apart from Christ or Christ apart from you." -Jeff Pollard

"The only thing we could motivate a holy God to do is to condemn us." -Paul Washer

I know why they have Mr. Washer speak last: there's no danger of people falling asleep. In fact, the danger is that people won't be able to sleep all night.

We did manage to sleep a little; in fact, a little too much. This was the morning that the alarm went off at 6:51, instead of 6:15 as I had planned. Mr. Raine thinks I have dyslexia.

But instead of having dyslexia, I had breakfast with my brother who used to have dyslexia.

As Mr. Bradrick was fond of saying, "Here is the Kendall family to serenade us."

Someone recognizes the seriousness of Biblical law.

Mr. Brown brings the conference to a close with an impromptu charge.

Even though you weren't there, you do have the opportunity, just as we did, to order the audio.

Stop what?

Stop walking on the grass?

It's got to be a sign from Heaven.

Finally, the conference over, we get to try out one of the grand pianos.

Someday, when Aaron is a world-famous pianist and Candace has forgotten that she took this photo, I will make a heap of money by its sale.

One of the highlights was singing with over a hundred fellow strangers (that's not an oxymoron) late into Saturday night.

"Brethren, we have met to worship..."

So there we were, the farthest South we had ever been, and this is what we wake up to Sunday morning.

Now what? Stop snowing?

Snowmen were falling from heaven unassembled, and so the Morton family took the trouble to assemble them.

Being from Georgia, it was the most snow they had seen in their lives.

Mr. Morton: Where are you from?

Me: Pennsylvania.

Mr. Morton: What part of Georgia is that?!

We left the North Carolinians digging their way out of the snow and headed home.

You didn't think we would go on a trip with the Raines and make it home without stopping somewhere "historical" did you?

They are fortunate enough to have a great-great uncle (buried here) who was the youngest colonel in the Stonewall Brigade. And they have an ancestor who was a princess and one who received love letters from John Wilkes Booth and - and - well, it just isn't fair.

Couldn't have been a better day for graveyard pictures.

Where the flowers go to be cremated.

Conrad and Emma are still, to this day, debating whether George Washington's axe can be George Washington's axe after having the head replaced four times and the handle three. Some things do not end with the trip.

And some things should not end with the trip. I pray that the teaching received that weekend will influence me and others who were there for the rest of our lives.

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Thanks for joining us.

God Bless.

Carmen

Yup, I'm posting. Have faith, my friends. (And patience. :-)

But.

I'm not posting again until the year 2011.

Happy New Year.

No matter what you believe about Christmas, I expect we can agree on one thing:

Santa Claus is not real.

:-)

Of Cakes and Birthdays

Roses are red... Uh, wait. No they're not.

But sugar still is sweet and so are you, dear sister.

Another dear sister and graduate of A.C. Moore's cake-decorating class.

So after all those decorating classes, what did Christian want for his birthday?

An ice-cream cake.

*scratches head* I can't read this. It says:

uɐıʇsıɹɥɔ
ʎɐpɥʇɹıq
ʎddɐɥ

Now why is he scratching his head? I trust they haven't taken to printing the newspaper upside down.

Another cake class specimen.

He not only requested tools for his birthday...

...he got excited about them too.

Sure, tools are great. But traditions are better.

And having the Jacksons over at least once a winter is something that needs to be written in stone.

Michael serves it.

Conrad passes it.

Grace eyes it up.

Maybe the next one, Grace. Hang in there.

It's not heavy; so it's not a book.

What?! Not a book? The Jacksons always give books.

(It was a book. On tape.)