Hme Sweet Home.....

Christmas past. John is sitting in the family room, under our clock, and beside of TV. This room is not very big, actually I wish it were larger. Perhaps we have just put so much stuff in the room that there appears to be no room.
You see my coon skin cap.

I got that in Canada. I had always wanted one. In the '50's Davy Crockett was all the craze, and kids wore coon skin caps, or if you could not afford to have a cap, you had your hair cut in the shape of a coon skin cap. I didn't want to do that.

May it ever be so humble, this is home.
Growing up, I had but one desire, and that was to find a place and stay put. My father was a nomad at heart. The longest we ever spent in one place was six years. You began to hold your breath as the sixth year aproached. If the Church was not going as he thought it should, he was ready to move on. He took the advice of Paul very seriously;" One plants, one waters, and God gives the increase." Dad did a lot of planting, but he never stayed for the harvest. I always thought that he left too soon. But what did I know, I was just the son.

I once took Carol on a tour of all of the churches Dad had been pastor of. We created turmoil. People saw us, and thought he was coming back. He only did that once.

The most disappointing church was the Williamson church. It had been a factory, Dad and the elders bought the building, turned it into a church. I watched as the building was transformed.
I watched painters paint a Biblical pictorial of Jesus near some water, a river. I did not realize it then, but I should have paid more attention to the detail of the man's work. I watched the building of the baptistry, even floated my boats in the water. I came back thirty some odd years later, and nothing had changed.

I've been here over 33 years. I now get the wander lust, wondering where would be best to live, but I doubt if I will get that opportunity.