I'm not washing my hands very well.

There is some dirt on my hand that won't wash off.

This dirt, however unbecoming, is a thing of beauty to me. It's a remnant of the amazing week I spent in Kentucky for spring break.
For future reference: When cleaning a basement that hasn't seen the light of day in twenty odd years, one should remember to thoroughly wash ones hands before starting. Especially if the task immediately prior to this was staining a rather large cabin.

Unless of course you are sentimental and that patch of dirt represents more than just twenty year old dust stuck to leftover stain.

Needless to say... I had a good time.

Life was simple in KY. We worked, we laughed, and we loved. The people are ridiculously friendly, so the loving part was not at all difficult.
I think the biggest thing for me though, was that it was a temporary escape. Things and people that had occupied so much of my thoughts simply disappeared. We were working for the Lord and His people, and that was all that mattered. I got to meet and get to know some truly godly people, not the least of which were part of my team.

And now that we're back, I find myself mourning the loss of that week.
I mourn the day when that patch of dirt completely disappears.
But more than anything, I mourn the loss of that feeling.
That blessed feeling that what you are doing is completely for the honor and glory of God Almighty.

Just one of the many lessons learned over spring break:
Doing the Lords work, with the Lord's people is intoxicating.

And the hangover left in it's wake is brutal.

Only six weeks till summer. Only six weeks till summer. Only six weeks till summer...