I am my own gay pride parade.
So last night, we gathered for Family Home Evening and waited for our youngest son to teach us the lesson. And when I say "teach," I mean, "monotone recitation with intermittent booger sniffs from what might as well have been the health care reform act without any inflection animation or attention to punctuation."
I stared~cross eyed~around the room and found myself reading everybody's thought bubbles. They ranged from oily noses to enlarged prostates, with a smattering of hidden candy and Diet Coke thrown in for fun. Hard to tell whose was whose.
Now friends, we try to be obedient and have these gospel lessons in our home each week. But we've also found that we open arm and loud laughter embrace these occasions when they arrive loaded down with ice cream and doughnuts. It's like a conduit that allows the spirit to come busting in through the front doors, all happy and spiritual and ready to enlighten~rather than slinking in through the basement window all stoic and somber and quoting from scripture. Not that there's anything wrong with the word of God, but it's OH SO MUCH MORE TASTY with seven or eight licorice sticks hanging out of your lips like cigars.
And I just feel sorry for the poor, ornery fool who doesn't recognize and advocate the compatibility of sugar, fat, gospel and family. What a waste. It's synergy, people. And we've talked about this concept before, but it bares repeating. It goes something like this...Treats=smiles=joy=happy=spiritual=family=celestial=Godly= MUST BE A BLESSING FROM OUR HEAVENLY FATHER.
So let us continue in our quest for eternal families. Determined, steadfast and immovable...
...lumpy, lethargic and in a smiley sugar coma.
Whatever it takes to be together forever.