Hard-working faith

We spent the morning gardening at the Healing House in northeast Kansas City with our church. Every month a group gets together and lives out James 2:18; "I will show you my faith by what I do."

So we planted flowers in a hilly, rocky, root-infested and extremely clay soil (that last one is for you, Dad). Shea spent much of his morning digging and chopping out tree stumps. They provided us lunch as a thank you, mmmm hot dogs.

And after a stop by the farmer's market and a Sonic Strawberry Limeade Chiller, which might be my new favorite thing in the world, we came home and crashed. I woke up and could barely stand to move my quads and back. A sign we're getting old, sigh.

Sometimes faith is hard work!