you can't judge a book by its cover

But you can totally judge it by its dedication page. More on that in just a minute.

We have been in the process of moving and when I say "we" I really mean "I" because it's my job alone to hide everything in the house in such a way that no one else can find anything. This is the reason for five moves in seven years. Whenever anyone gives off a hint that they actually know where anything is, it's time to move again.

As if I have nothing better to do but to hide everything from everyone! As if I enjoy being needed, that no one is able to function without me in this or whatever house we might be living in.

All this to say, I had what I consider as a wife, a mother, and a writer, to be a perfectly normal thought last week. I was holding a giant roll of bubble wrap and I thought this about my husband: I could kill him. I could kill him right now. Somehow, I could kill him with this bubble wrap.

Normally, I enjoy bubble wrap. I think bubble wrap is fun. I can say it's the first time I've ever held bubble wrap and thought evil thoughts.

In addition to moving, we did just have the perfect storm occurring within a three week period: our anniversary, my birthday and mother's day. I was out of town on our anniversary which automatically makes it null and void, there were tears on both the other days and I got the same Happy Birthday message he sends to everyone on Facebook.

The combination would have been too great for any man, but for a man with a few Master's Degrees and a doctorate, and it was just too much.

The Pastor crawled into bed last night at some ungodly time proclaiming he had just finished his second book. When I got up this morning I opened up what he had sent me.

I made it as far as the dedication page.

I saw his parent's names.

I saw pastor's names from when he was growing up.

I saw our kid's names.

Yep, you guessed it.

He couldn't have picked a worse week to not dedicate a book to me.

There's about a thousand things I could be writing right now, but I'm too distracted. I had to spend the morning mentally re-writing his dedication page for him.
I understand the logic of why he did what he did. His book is about the next generation of faith embodied in children. He chose to dedicate his book to the people who influenced him growing up, and to our children who he hopes to influence even though one of those children just told us about plans to get a tattoo from the Book of "Philippines."

But still. He couldn't do one of these numbers?

*****

And finally, to Robyn, the love of my life, without you none of this would be possible.

*****

or

*****

for Robyn

Enjoy life with your wife, whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life that God has given you under the sun--all your meaningless days. For this is your lot in life and in your toilsome labor under the sun.

*****

Ironically, his book is entitled "The Greatest Commandment." I would have an even greater commandment for him.

And to think, I had just started speaking to him again yesterday.

I completely understand why he wouldn't dedicate the book to me. Right now, we're not on the same page. We're not in the same book located on the same shelf in the same bookstore on the same planet in the same universe.

It's perfectly fine.

Maybe this book is a throw-away.

Let him dedicate this one to the parents and kids.

Maybe he knows on some level the next book will be huge. That's the one! And he's saving that one to dedicate to me and to only me. It will be more special that way. Why should I have to share star billing with anyone? That book will be huge and he'll be able to make up to me the mother's days, the birthdays, and the anniversaries. Volkswagen Bug huge.

At that point I'll settle for a simple dedication,

to Robyn,
thanks for allowing me to live

Until then, I have some more things to hide.

if you want to read more about our move you can go to:
homesweetparsonage.blogspot.com