Christmas is Here!

Josh Groban has been been sending Holiday warblings through The Parson's House for about 3 weeks now.  He has been replaced occasionally by Celine, Casting Crowns, Selah, James Taylor, and the Chipmunks as they each added their distinct Flavor to the Mirth and Good Cheer that has begun to emerge from the walls and floors of The Homeplace.

Pithy comments filled with Jeer and Carp have been hurled in my direction as knowledge of the Tinselly Tunes has spread.  Growls of displeasure from those who would Rain on my Holiday Parade have caused Confusion in my Heart.

"NO!" they say.  "Christmas Music should never begin until after Thanksgiving.  We have to put up with it long enough as it is."

Excuse me?  Put up with it?  There needs to be a cave for Those People to retreat to during the Season of Festivity and Celebration of our Lord's Birth!

I will continue to Push the Envelope on stretching the Holiday Season with Twinkly Lights, Merry Music, Smiles and Sugar, and Secrets in the Closet for as long as I can possibly stretch it.

This Season, with all it entails, brings a Sense of Security to my Spirit.  It brings a Smile when thinking of a cuddly Baby Saviour.  It brings Hope while planning the Hospitality.  It brings Gladness while purchasing the Gifts.  It brings Laughter with the Lights.  It brings Carols to the Cleaning of the Rafters.

The Music brings Merriment to my Mundane!

I'm putting up my tree tomorrow.

Merry Christmas!

Pray for my Friend

Okay.  I need everybody to pray for my Friend.  The Physical Therapist's Assistant Lady.  She's a dear little woman who has been doing deep heat massages on my injured leg the past six weeks.  She is always quite Opinionated about most everything.  She has it all figured out, even the stuff that hasn't happened yet.

She is very Free with her advice and knowledge.  About everything.  Raising children these days, cooking vs. eating out, Being Responsible, proper Care of a torn calf muscle, and various other sundry issues most of which you have never even heard of.

I am feeling rather Victorious this week because I am finally being able to walk in public without excessive Gawking and Exclamations from people whom I have never met.  For the past 5 weeks, I have walked with a very awkward and pronounced limp and not without quite a bit of Pain involved in the process.

The DOCTOR himself, whom I would imagine has had quite a bit more schooling than the Physical Therapist's Assistant Lady informed me early on that the position of the tear and the muscle involved was going to be most painful when my foot was flat.  Therefore, since the position of the tear meant I could not be fitted for a boot with a raised heel, my most comfortable way of getting from Point A to Point B would be in a raised heel shoe.  So, this I have done.  For the past five weeks.

MUCH to the chagrin of the Physical Therapist's Assistant Lady.  She did not agree with that assessment. And railed Loudly at me every time I went for an appointment until the Physical Therapist told her the doctor himself had told me to do that.

Well, would you just listen to this!  At today's appointment, the Physical Therapist was not in.  One of his substitutes was.  But my Friend, the Physical Therapist's Assistant Lady, was totally there.  Oh yessireeBob.  Never would she be absent from work, not that one!

So in a voice the substitute therapist girl could hear, the PTAL begin telling me that I had my heels on again and that it wasn't going to get well for months on end if I didn't stop wearing them.  I turned to her and very Quietly, very Politely, reminded her that the Doctor Himself had told me wear them.  She said of course he did because I wouldn't be quiet about it and he finally just gave in but it wasn't what he really wanted.

Can you believe that?

I did not respond.  I turned my face away and Prayed an Earnest Prayer for God's Presence to fill me Quickly.

I have six more weeks of therapy left.  So, somebody needs to pray for the Physical Therapist's Assistant Lady.

I am thinking of praying that she would experience something that would help her to better understand the Plight of Future Patients who may experience a torn calf muscle.  (There is nothing which helps one empathize any better than having been there yourself...)  Heretofore I have not prayed that, you understand, I just said I am thinking of praying that...

Better yet, pray for Me.

2009: Elephant Season

At the beginning of 2009, the Parson declared "Elephant Season" for the year.

Now that may sound a little bit Daunting, or a little bit Militant, or a lotta bit Confrontational.

What it has been is very Liberating.  Oh my, yes.

All of us have Elephants in our lives.  And our houses.  And our churches.  And our jobs.  Those big, clumsy, giant Situations that suck all the air out of the room and cause tons of damage to their environment.

It is amazing to me how much we tiptoe around them and try to pretend they are the same size as everything else and spend Large Sections of Time (which are then gone forever) trying to clean up the Messes they create and repair the Breakage they have incurred.

Well, finally, we got tired of them.  So, 2009 = Elephant Season.  We didn't start out deliberately and systematically attacking the Elephants.  We actually told God that He could see them, too, and would He please help us.  If He would kill them, we would cut them in small pieces and remove them.  He said "Okay."

We now have an Elephant Graveyard here at The Homeplace.  It is a delightfully Free and Airy Spot to which we invite all to come.  We also encourage all to create your own.

We even have Eight Weeks Left!

Anjana

I received this in one of those Forwards.  Those dumb emails that everybody hates and we usually delete before we look at it.

Well, The Parson forwarded this one to me from somebody else.  And since he knows my aversion to Forwards, I figured it must be pretty good and I needed to take a look at it.

Well, I immediately just dissolved into a puddle.

Anybody that knows me at all knows how much I love animals.  Any kind, pretty much.  They just have a lot more sense and feelings than Human Beings give them credit for.  And I'm not one to always see a sermon in every bush.  But this one just spoke really loud to me.

This is the story of Anjana.


When hurricane Hannah separated two white tigers from their mother, Anjana came to the rescue.  Anjana, a chimp at TIGERS in South Carolina, became surrogate mom and playmate to the cubs, even helping with bottle feeding, according to The Sun.  But the amazing part is that this is something Anjana does all the time.  She's also helped raise a leopard and lion cubs on several occasions.

What would the world be like if we all felt a sense of responsibility for others less fortunate?

You know.  The 'do unto others as you would have them do unto you' thing.

I think that tiger cub is smiling...

Weekends at the Parson's House

Ahhh...we're coming to the close of another Weekend here at The Parson's House.  The time of the week that the entire nation (and some foreign ones, too) look forward to.  (Other nations don't have a clue what the word 'weekend' means in America.  They are too busy trying to survive every day of the week!  But we talk about that sort of stuff over on questmiles.blogspot.com...not here.)

Methinks that there are those who are curious as to what goes on at The Parson's House on the weekends.  Oh my!  It's a world of swirl, oh yes indeed.

The Parson's Family actually usually gets to have dinner together on Friday night.  Sometimes.  Unless there is an Event.  Then, Saturday morning, the Parson is gone before the rest of the household stumbles to the coffeepot.  He usually calls mid-afternoon to say hello.  Then returns in time to rock back and forth at least two times in his chair before he falls asleep.  The Good Wife smiles and nods as does the Parson's Son.  The Parson's Daughter is nowhere to be found.  The Gentle Golden Retriever looks up once, sleepily.  The Schnauzer With Attitude growls and wiggles a greeting, then runs back to her place of slumber.  They have played away the day and are now dog-tired...

The Good Wife and the Parson's Son do a myriad of activities throughout the day, but none of any consequence, because they feel they shouldn't if the Parson cannot actually be with them.  Which, of course, he never can.  So, there seems as if there needs to be a re-thinking of the Fences on Saturdays.

Sunday morning dawns beautiful.  Raining, cloudy, cold, humid, hot, sunny...Sunday is always a beautiful day at The Parson's House.  Energy, smiles, and goodwill radiate in waves throughout the rooms.  The Parson is not in residence on Sundays, because that's the Big Day.  Church happens.  It's always great, people are always happy, and Nobody ever has a Problem on Sundays.  Lunch is obtained from Wherever It Comes From because most of the time the Parson cannot join the family for lunch.  The Parson's Daughter is nowhere to be found again.  So, the Good Wife and the Parson's Son are nourished by Whatever and move on to their Sabbath Keeping.

The Parson's Family (along with 1500 other people) joins him for Part II on Sunday evening.  Again, it's always Great.  People are Happy.  Everyone is always in agreement with the Pastors as to the Direction the Church is Moving.  Church Ends.  The Parson and the Good Wife deliberate for 15 minutes as to whether Feast A or Feast B will occur.  The Weekend then ends.

Thank God for Monday.

Fall Fires

Well, the First Fire of Fall 09 was built tonight.  The wood was dry, the crackles were crisp and popping, and the flames were bright.

The Parson's Son and the Good Wife visited with Jimmy Stewart and Harvey, his 6'8" white rabbit whilst munching on pizza and soda.  Brother Stewart offered this little Nugget of Wisdom:

"Several years ago, I was offered the choice between being Smart and Pleasant.  Since I had practiced Smart for many years, I chose Pleasant.  I have never regretted it.  And you can quote me on that."


I believe I will, Brother Jim.  I believe I will.

I LAUGH at Routine!

Could the title of my last post have actually been "Routine Returns?" Seriously? Ha! I LAUGH at Routine! Such an idealistic, ridiculous concept. Only those who are Stuck in the Mud operate in a state of Routine.

Routine is a Machine which grinds Life into the ground one slow gear at a time.

Routine is a Plodding Animal which sucks all the Joy from the Spirit and leaves the Face Frozen in Frown.

Routine is a Stealer of Light, draining Color from the Landscape and painting the World in Sepia.

Therefore, we ban Routine from The Parson's House! YES! Routine is not wanted, not tolerated, not allowed.

Give us Chaos. Give us Scurry, Worry, Hustle, Bustle, Shout. Give us Flinging and Flailing. Give us Roadblocks, Obstacles, Challenges.

Give us Junior High Joys. Give us College Crises. Give us Mid-Life Madness.

Give us Weariness. Give us Hunger. Give us Junk Food. Give us Sleeplessness.

But DON'T give us Routine.

For if we were to obtain Routine, we might actually resemble some of the Sane people in the world.

And how Boring would THAT be!!!