Week 10: Grace Church Cathedral, Charleston, SC

There’s a saying we repeat often at Glory Ridge: God will send whoever is meant to be here, exactly when they are meant to be here. As Grace Church Cathedral of Charleston arrived for Week 10, our final week of Summer Ministry, I found myself believing those words all over again.

The group was small in number but huge in heart—and in so many ways, they were exactly the people we needed to bring this summer to a close.

Robert Hart, former staffer now serving as Youth Director at Grace Cathedral, led the group. Robert and his twin brother, Michael, have been part of every summer at Glory Ridge since they were middle schoolers. They know this place—its rhythms, its quirks, and certainly its tool house. So, when one of the week’s biggest jobs was to empty every single thing from the old tool house in preparation for its demolition and replacement this fall, we had the right people for the job.

Load after load, Michael’s team hauled tools and supplies into safe storage, sorting through years of Glory Ridge history along the way. And because no Glory Ridge project is complete without a little unexpected excitement, they discovered a live mouse happily residing inside a container of safety helmets. Apparently, even the mice believe in proper jobsite protection.

The work stretched well beyond camp. One team spent time with Gail in Mars Hill whose home, severely damaged by Hurricane Helene, will soon be replaced. Living alone, on oxygen, and facing significant health challenges, she needed help packing for the transition. As boxes were filled, something remarkable happened: they uncovered old family photographs she believed had been lost in a fire years ago. She began looking through them and telling stories of her late husband and the joy of raising their family together. Tears came as young people gathered around and listened.

Nothing about that moment could be measured in boxes packed or hours worked. They simply gave her the gift of their presence—and she gave them the gift of her story.

Scott’s team worked at Renee’s home, helping build a deck and digging a much-needed French drain. Then came six tons of gravel. This crew “slung gravel” for hours, and when the drainage work was finished, they used what gravel remained to fill holes in her driveway. It was exhausting, dirty work—the kind that makes a shower and a seat at the dinner table feel especially holy.

Other days brought service at the Madison County Animal Shelter and a visit with our dear Ms. Hazel. The group brought Hazel groceries, squirrel-proof bird feeders, and a hummingbird feeder—simple things to bring a little joy to long days at home. But, as always, the most important gift wasn’t in a grocery bag. They brought themselves. They sat. They listened. They visited. They were present.

That same spirit of presence filled camp.

Scott, a phenomenal project leader and the father of two of our campers, brought wonderful enthusiasm and camaraderie with the youth, throwing himself wholeheartedly into whatever the day held. Nancy, a member of Grace Cathedral, joined us for her first Glory Ridge experience, eager to see the Ridge she had heard so much about over the years. She was absolutely a delight. Though the eldest members of the group, she certainly wasn’t interested in letting anyone outwork her.

Former staffers Alex Cisney and Carter Catlette also returned to the Ridge to serve as leaders. Their arrival felt like another reminder of God’s timing. With only three summer staff remaining for our final week, Alex and Carter showed up just when we needed them. There is something deeply meaningful about watching people return to a place that once helped form them and then become part of forming another generation.

We were also grateful to welcome Connie Wojtek back into the kitchen. Connie, Peyton’s mom, joined Matthew and me in preparing and serving meals throughout the week. It felt wonderfully Glory Ridge: people simply stepping into whatever role needed filling.

And we played, too. There was whitewater rafting, trips to the creek, jigsaw puzzles, crafts, card games, and cornhole. There was laughter everywhere.

Throughout the week, worship centered on the Beatitudes in Matthew 5:3–12. Together we wrestled with what Jesus means when he calls people “blessed”—or truly happy. Each night gave us another opportunity to consider how differently Jesus describes a blessed life from the way the world often does.

On Thursday evening, the Rev. Ross Tortora and his wife, Judy, arrived at camp, to lead us in a closing Eucharist. His message, rooted in the Beatitudes, was one I won’t soon forget. As rain gently fell over the ridge and thunder rolled over the mountain, he spoke especially about those who are poor in spirit and encouraged the youth to recognize the ways they had spent their week becoming a blessing to others.

As I listened, tears filled my eyes. Here were young people who had carried boxes and gravel, listened to stories, visited lonely neighbors, cared for animals, worked until they were exhausted, and simply made themselves available to others. Father Ross helped us see the holiness already present in what we had experienced together.

With the Harts leading music and guiding our worship throughout the week, our little group never sounded small. We sang. We danced. We prayed. We laughed. We worshiped with our whole hearts.

And then, almost suddenly, summer was over.

After our friends from Grace left, current and former staff gathered one last time in the lean-to. Together we prayed and thanked God for the gift of Glory Ridge and for the mysterious, beautiful way God had brought this collection of people together at exactly the right time.

I found myself especially grateful for the three women who carried our summer staff through these final weeks.

Peyton Wojtek served the entire summer as our lead staff person and was a shining light to everyone she met. She led by example, worked hard, loved deeply, and worshiped with her whole heart. Her faithfulness was steady and watching her absolutely sparkle when she sang was one of the joys of my summer.

Lily Sherman made it through her very first summer staffing experience with remarkable grace and strength. It was a lot to take on, particularly with a smaller-than-planned staff, but she kept showing up. Her love for God and God’s creation—from plants to animals and everything in between—is infectious. Lily is simply all heart.

And then there is Trish Harwood. Week after week, she bravely and vulnerably shared with our groups how God used Glory Ridge—and the young people who served here—to draw her closer to Him when she was one of the neighbors we served two summers ago. She spoke openly about her struggles and about experiencing the love of Jesus through people who showed up for her.

This summer, she became one of the people showing up for others.

Trish poured herself into our garden, bringing an endless supply of tomatoes and herbs into the kitchen, along with fresh eggs from her farm and her mother’s. She tended our grapevines, too, and for the first time in a long time, we ate fully ripened grapes grown right here at Glory Ridge. There was something wonderfully fitting about that—a little fruit from the vine at the end of a summer filled with so much other fruit.

And I cannot tell the story of this summer without mentioning Matthew. He was, quite simply, the rock that held so much of it together. He made sure every work project was planned, prepared, and carried out as well as thoughtfully as possible, but that is only a fraction of what he does. He mows the grass, services our equipment, kills yellow jackets, unclogs toilets, hauls trash, makes the morning coffee, fixes whatever broke overnight, cares for our staff, and loves our neighbors so very well.

Much of what Matthew does happens quietly, behind the scenes, and without recognition. He sees what needs doing and does it. He carries an enormous amount of responsibility for this place because he loves it and believes deeply in the ministry that happens here. Through it all, he remains my partner and my greatest supporter. I could not do this work without him.

After our prayer in the lean-to, the staff headed to Smoky Mountain Diner in Hot Springs for breakfast. Around the table, we shared one last meal, gave small gifts of appreciation, laughed, remembered, and celebrated what God had done.

Maybe that is what “blessed” looked like for us this week.

It looked like six tons of gravel and a mouse in a safety helmet. It looked like photographs thought lost forever and young people willing to sit and hear the stories behind them. It looked like bird feeders, tomatoes, fresh eggs, and ripe grapes. It looked like old staff returning and new staff finding their way. It looked like Eucharist, dancing, singing, tears, laughter, and one final prayer in the lean-to.

We began the week emptying an old tool house, literally making room for something new. And all around us, God seemed to be doing much the same thing—bringing old friends back, introducing us to new ones, uncovering things thought lost, filling lonely hours with companionship, and reminding us that the size of a group has very little to do with the size of what God can do through it.

God sent exactly who was meant to be at Glory Ridge that week.

And once again, they arrived exactly when we needed them.