Pictures from Sunday posted moments before we head back Monday morning.

A camera man. We really were in three adjacent rooms, each with a screen. I don't know whose idea the Christmas lights were, but they were fun.

Carolyn Custis James (Women's Bible Study will know who I mean) spoke before the Sunday morning session. She mentioned her experience as the wife of Frank James whose brother was one of three hikers lost on Mt. Hood, and their experience (positive) with the national media (I heard Frank speak at a Sunday School during one of my courses down at Reformed Seminary in Orlando, where he now serves as the president.)

Last music by the Getty-led praise band singing a song we've sung at Carlisle.

Paul Tripp delivers the message during the Sunday service. Without notes, of course. How does he do that?

After the morning service was over, we took a drive over to Lancaster to visit my dad and sister and Deb's dad. The grass was so very green (the picture barely does it justice) in the fields here . . .

And seeing the rolls of hay in the fields . . .

. . . or the Amish horses and buggies (note the detritus on the road that makes this romantic image just a little less so).

And when we're in Philly, we try not to miss this unique, extraordinary, and oh-so-sixties pizza place (I had buffalo wings pizza . . .

. . . . and a hoagie (ok, it's a sub, but we're romanticizing a bit the local color so familiar to us--lots of meats on this thing, though).