By: Keturah Thomson
We have several self-appointed professionals in this family. If anyone needs health and happiness in their life, just pop over to the Big White House and receive.
The key word here is receive, because with some of these professionals, you can’t get a word in edgewise.
To give you an idea of how much it will surely benefit you, your reception when you arrive might go something like this.
You are greeted on the porch by two 2 year olds, who stand at a distance and stare. Their mother (my sister) greets you with a smile, so you’re not turned away. You walk up to the door which is wide open, revealing the hustle and bustle within. “Someone’s here!” A shrill voice announces, and soon Mom meets you at the door.
Her genuine smile makes you feel slightly more at ease, so you take this opportunity to introduce yourself.
“I’m _______,” you say, “I’m here for some life help.”
“Oh, nice to meet you,” she says, “unfortunately my husband isn’t home right now, but he’ll be back soon. In the meantime, you can see Jon.”
Without a moment’s delay, a tall thin young man comes slinking around the corner, his first words are, “Sorry about that.”
You begin to tell him about your troubles, and he looks at you through slightly shifty eyes, “You really mean that? Oh, sorry about that. Thanks. Sorry about that.”
Every other sentence is met with “Thanks,” or “You really mean that?” So eventually you are feeling rather uncomfortable, but do not worry! The next happiness expert is right around the corner.
A lively girl comes bounding around the corner into the living room, “Are you having stress?”
Perching herself next to you on the couch, she begins to work her magic. She is the resident “Calming Therapist.”
“Are you feeling upset? I feel upset sometimes. It’s like I go into a state of anxiety, where life is meaningless and I am so selfish and I don’t even know what I want…”
“Well you see, my trouble isn’t…” You begin, but you don’t get to say much.
“It’s not fair! Life is so mean! But you know what,” she looks into your eyes with her own which have grown to the size of saucers in their desperation, “Jesus is good!” She prays very loudly in Spanish, and then continues her therapy session. “You know what, if you don’t want help, there’s nothing I can do for you! You have to just chill! CALM DOWN!”
She is very worked up, and you begin to wonder if your own problems are even worth mentioning. Clearly, SHE needs calming therapy.
Somewhere else in the house, you hear a thirteen year old girl rapping the soundtrack of Hamilton, with the accompaniment of Jon, “Thanks. Sorry about that.”
Suddenly someone is loudly running up the basement steps, and Dad comes barging in. “Oh hello,” he says, briefcase in one hand and a whiteboard case in the other. “Let me just get this set up and then we can talk.” He grabs a cup of coffee, offers you one, and sets up his whiteboard. Soon he’s sitting in the chair across from you, listening to you tell him why you’re here. Before he talks, he prays with you, and pulls out a fairly tattered KJV Study Bible. “Let’s see what God says about that, okay?”
As you leave, you have a very different idea of who were are than when you arrived. We are not perfect, and our professionals may not be certified, but every one of us cared about you. And you can be certain you did not leave our house without at least being offered a cup of coffee, which we all know from experience is a form of therapy in itself.
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