prophet without honor

I never fully understood what Jesus was trying to say with the words “a prophet is without honor in his home town” (not the actual verbiage, but close).

The family and I are in my home town of Houston for the holiday. And due to some kind of poor communication, we are now staying twice as long as originally planned.

I don’t like my home town. It's the suburbs and they seem to stand for most everything I am not. Plus, I feel so pointless here.

And it doesn’t help that Obi-Wan is in the hospital. Plus, I have two major handyman projects that are left undone back in the fair mother city. I don't rest well with unfinished business. Plus, I’m still trying to juggle out November bills and upcoming December ones. Plus, I’m trying to figure what auto maintenance prep work I need before traveling to Canada and just how exactly we are getting there, etc.

Plus, I hate Houston.

But it seems to bless my mother that we stay longer since she has so little time off from her job.

I’ve always found a fine line between honoring my parents and hating my own parents to follow Jesus.

It’s a kin to the fine line between a guy like me flourishing in a calling and identity outside of my home town versus the dozens of people I know who have done quite well living in the same place all of their lives.

All this to say...I am in Houston on extended Thanksgiving holiday and I wish I wasn’t. I’m trying to relax and make the best of it despite the TV, traffic, and materialism that’s shoved down our throats. I probably need a break from the fair mother city. But I don’t feel like I’m getting much of one.

So it goes.