You Can’t Go Home Again
Last week the fam and I spent some time back in our hometowns in Tennessee and Alabama. Both Merriem and I grew up in towns of less than 8,000 people, so going home is a little bit of culture shock for our kids, especially at McDonald’s (No shirt? No shoes? No problem!). Nowhere but home can you…
- …have total strangers ask you how your recent mission trip to Greece was.
- …hear an answering machine message from a senior adult at your home church asking if “Brother Danny made it in alright.”
- …find out that you were the beneficiary of a prayer request in Wednesday night prayer meeting (I’m pretty sure it included the phrase, “traveling mercies”).
- …watch your kids revert to their inner cowboy as they spend every waking hour with their “Paw” at the barn.
Obviously there are sobering moments at home, as well…
- …such as hearing my 12 year old refer to Tennessee pulled pork BBQ as “that meat stuff.” (Darn you, North Carolina! You have rendered it impossible for my kid to recognize REAL barbecue!)
- …having people tell you, “You’ve lost weight!” followed by “…and your hair!”
I really dig my hometown and my home church. Merriem and I have decided we’re going to host our first Redneck Camp next summer, complete with bunk beds at the farm, BBQ tours, and cow tipping. That’s right. I said cow tipping.
Sign ups begin now for the low low price of $89 per person, per night. Shirt and shoes optional.