Allow me to use our family blog to brag.
I love my father and mother. And this is not some lame attempt to honor the fifth commandment. I really do love them. How do I love them? Let me count the ways...
They've been married for a billion years and not once has the word "divorce" come up. I'm not condemning people who are divorced. I'm just thanking God that my dad and mom decided long ago to be faithful to each other and have stuck to that vow. Makes me say "Hey, if they can do it, I can do it".
My parents love to laugh. Like any good dad, my father will crack a joke (if that's what you wanna call it) at the dinner table and give his nudge, nudge, wink, wink smile. Even though the whole family is rolling their eyes and groaning like old hardwood flooring, we still appreciate that our parents don't take life too seriously.
Given the opportunity, my parental units would give us the shirts off their back and then ask if they can put any laundry away for us. I've never known them to think about themselves first. Except that one time when Dad took the last of the peanut butter and didn't write it on the grocery list. Sad day.
Their faith in God has and will always stay strong and real. In the 18 years I was at home with them, they never forced Jesus on me. They lived it. And like any pastor's kid, I had tons of opportunities to turn and run. Due to the fact that they never cornered us with the Bible, I felt freedom to move my arms about, to breath, to doubt, to fall, and ultimately to fall in love with the Savior of the world.