i am rich

And that assessment is not in comparison to anybody.  I just am.  Period.

I have one brother whom I adore. Always have. After staying single for 40 years, he got married about four years age to the one who was born to be in our family.

My dad died 18 years ago and my mom has since devoted her life to my brother and me and my family.

We're tight.

But getting married and building a home and raising a family and pastoring a church and homeschooling and traveling extensively take an amazing amount of time and energy and many times our connections are limited to once a month suppers or days where it's just phone conversations.  My mom lives 8/10s of a mile from my house and my brother only lives about 3 miles, but we can go days...weeks?...without seeing each other.

That is just flat out wrong.

So, Mardi Gras gave my brother a day off this past Tuesday and he gifted it to my mom and me.  Just the three of us.  From can until can't, doing what we wanted, rambling around the countryside.

A dear friend on Facebook knows us all too well and asked what we talked about all day.  As I typed my response to her, I was reminded again that few people experience this much love in their life and I am grateful.

My response:

Ha!  I KNEW you wanted to come! :-)


We talked about "Radical" (Kenny's reading that) and "Slave" (I just finished) and "Splashdown" (John Wolfram's book).


And we talked about heaven and then we talked about where the dead are.  Lots of opinion on that one.


Then we talked about how dead outlet malls are getting and how stupid Mardi Gras is and how thankful we are we were doing what we were doing. (several times).


Then we looked for the old Indian Creek swimming hole and almost found it and then got out and took pics of a forgotten creek by Mom's old homeplace in the rain.

And they had Shipley's but I didn't cause I'm good.


And a couple of other things that I won't put on Facebook.


And then we had Mexican food, and rode the back roads all day til dark.


And it was a perfectly fabulous day.


I am rich.

If you have love in your life, you are rich.

the parson strikes again

He really is the coolest man.

The Hawaiian Christmas ornament from last year's 25th anniversary trip was broken first thing when decorating the tree this past year.

Valentine's Day, 2011 didn't even exist at theparsonshouse because we were all frantically trying to close the suitcases and hop on the plane at 4:30 am the next morning.

So...on our stopover in Honolulu...when I was exhausted and didn't even want to leave the room to eat...and The Parson's Son was in need of some jump/scream/yell/letoffsteam time...off they went to explore the Strip for awhile.

And when they came back, I got this.

Happy Valentine's Day 'cause your 25th Anniversary Hawaiian Christmas ornament was broken and I love you.

So there.  See if you can top that!

jet lag

Traveling overseas ain't no piece of cake!

Jet lag is a real deal.  If you have never traveled overseas (especially going west...that's by far the worst!) then you just have no way of knowing how debilitating it really can be.

It's not a sleep issue.  It's a body thing.  Like you are in the room, but your body's not.  And then, around mid-afternoon somebody pulls the plug and lets all the air out of your arms and legs and you are like those balloon people that fly around on car lots going every which way. (Which, by the way, I have never understood. And just HOW is that supposed to want to make me buy a car from your dealership?) But back to jet lag...

So, I know it's a real deal.  I've been up since 4:28 a.m., tired as all get out and wanting to say God woke me up to pray and I responded, but deep down I know that it's really jet lag and so do you.

So, it's a real deal.  BUT...you knew there was a but...I am sincerely amazed at how extensive and powerful jet lag really is.

For example:

Them:  Mom, could you iron my shirt?
Me:  Why me? Why don't you iron it?
Them:  I have jet lag.

Me: Did you feed the dogs?
Them:  No.
Me:  Why?
Them:  I have jet lag.

Me:  Where are my glasses?
Them:  I'll help you look.  Here they are!  In the refrigerator! Why did you put them there?
Me:  I have jet lag.

Me:  I've told you not to text in church.  Put the phone up.
Them:  But Mom...(whine)...I have jet lag!

Me: I'm freezing! Who turned the heat down in here?
Them:  I did.
Me:  Why?
Them:  I have jet lag.

Them:  This soup is too salty.
Me:  That's because I have jet lag.

Headlines in morning newspaper:
"Members of local minister's home found dead sitting in upright positions due to jet lag."

Uncomplicated

Sometimes, you just don't need a lot of words...

Merry Christmas, 2010!

So, about 150 cards are still stacked by my chair waiting to be addressed and sent...   Sad.

Merry Christmas from The Homeplace! 

(Consider yourself officially greeted.)

lonely walls wailing mournfully - STOP!

The sound has been echoing up and down the dark, cold streets.  Unidentifiable to many, those with keen sensitivity have recognized the mournful wails of lonely walls...walls accustomed to laughter, yelling, and loving have had only silence. Emptiness. Deserted despair.

The Homeplace has been a Ghostplace.  Dogs are despondent, grass is brown, dust is prevalent.  Plants are dying, smells are musty, pantry is bare.

Days, weeks too, even months.  2011 brought busyness, preoccupation, deadlines, and goodbyes.

But for a brief few days, all is well again. Washers are churning, tails are wagging, stoves are cooking, dust is flying.  Laughter has returned, jetlag has turned middle-of-the-night lights on, and focus is flying around.

It's good to be home.