better said

Back in the day. When Jonathan and I (Toby too...Bristel didn't come along until right before we left for The Bush) were playing missionary. And thought we would be sporting a great tan for the rest of our lives.



Before we were hurled into Seizure Land face first...I mean.



We used to travel. A lot. It was part of the job description through our agency. We had to do our own fund raising.



Fund raising typically involved Public Speaking. Show and tell with the kids. Although frankly...you'd be surprised at how giddy a grown up can get playing Dress Up Like a Native! Gotta love goofy missionary stuff. Oh...and we had a cutsie little video. Which people *hearted*. Remember when Volkswagen had the funky commericals running. Like this one...






We parodied and called ourselves Foltzwagen. And because we couldn't resist being super cheesy ended our video with Prayers Wanted. Get it? Instead of Drivers Wanted...we said Prayers Wanted...



Oh never mind!



I told you it was cheesy.



But listen guys...we raised our funding super speedy. Like record breaking speedy. Not that we were competing or anything. (Visualize me imitating the John Stewart muffled cough "haaaackkk-onathan) I mean sheesh...missionaries aren't like that!



::wink::



Anyway...



I was getting somewhere with all this nostalgia.



Mostly I enjoyed everything about missionary life. But there were some things that got under my skin. Sleeping in strangers homes was a bit uncomfortable at times. Especially if it wasn't toddler proofed. For the love all that is holy people...I'm begging you...don't host a young missionary family who may have a little boy unable to resist the temptation of touching your model train display. Gracing the middle of your living room. Where you want us to sit. For hours. Eating cheetos and brownies. Sharing funny missionary life stories across the special model train display. That your dead son put together right before he passed! Seriously. Host an old couple. And it really really really made my skin crawl when Jonathan would give a great sermon (I was gonna try and think up some clever non-churchy sounding word rather than sermon. But I'm so over trying to be the sexy Christian). It wasn't Jonathan's sermons that made my skin crawl. It was the fact that...pastors...many many pastors...have a habit of summarizing guest speaker's sermons. Like somehow they are more capable of conveying what was just (brilliantly if I do say so myself) conveyed. The church peeps among us are probably groaning with me right about now. What is with that?! It's kinda arrogant. And annoying.



Because sometimes...



I know this is hard to believe...



Especially if you're a word smith...



And passionate...



N' stuff...



But sometimes...



Someone else actually says it better.



::gasp::



Which is why I'm not going to summarize. Not even a thought. Or feeling. Or word.



I'm just going to direct you here.



Where you can read everything I'd love to express. Only said better.



(I hope you know how much I love you, B. Thank you for spilling your guts! I am SO thankful to have you as a friend! xoxo)



Now the rest of you stop eavesdropping! Get over there and read it already!



Or else I just may start summarizing!