Meet Jason (aka “Ding Dong”).
Can you believe I'm related to that?
He’s my wiser, cooler, more capable dancer, older brother. And I love him. A lot.
You see, Jason isn’t just any older brother. He’s a teacher.
He’s funny, without a doubt. But more than that, he’s caring, compassionate, gracious, and one of the most humble people I know. He’s diligent and disciplined. He’s quick to listen and slow to speak. He genuinely seeks to serve those around him. He has patience beyond reason and he loves completely.
More than all of this; more importantly than any of the above: He is passionately in love with Jesus. He is unabashedly and wholeheartedly after the heart of God. And of all the things that I have learned from him, this is the one thing that I have sought to immulate more than anything else.
He has been the best kind of older brother; learning lessons and passing them on when he didn’t even know it. I’m grateful to follow his shadow.
Happy birthday, Bro. I love you more every year.
My week in Whitefish, Montana could be summed up in a few short phrases that, although out of context, help to capture the essence of this trip.
“I love having all my chicks in my nest. I just want to sit on y’all!” Momma Dunn.
And perhaps my favorite…
“Stick with me honey and I’ll have you dripping in diamonds bigger than horse turds.” Jewler-man in town.
There are, of course, more stories to share but I thought I would just give you a sneak-peak into posts to come.
Speaking of which– from Montana I am flying south to Dallas to spend the weekend with some extraordinary friends. So while I’m busy playing and have the time of my life with them, I won’t be here.
Catch y’all next week.
For the next week, I’ll be here.
Glacier National Park, Montana
This is the place my family calls home during the ridiculously hot Texas months of May-September.
So what will I be doing you ask? Hanging with the “Rents”…
Daddy & Momma Dunn
And the bro and his better half…
The really really ridiculously good-looking couple.
And this dog…
He's not as smart as he looks.
And remembering how crazy blessed I am. Life is beautiful friends. Time to take it in.
My first horses’ name was Daddy’s Promise. I started riding when I was five and it was the one and only sport that Ididn’t get tired of after about a month or so. There were, and still are, so many things about it that completely captivated me. And I miss it … frequently.
While in Montana for Easter, my aunt and I went walking around her “neighborhood,” even though Montana doesn’t really have neighborhoods. As we passed a pasture I saw about a dozen horses, fat from a winter of eating endlessly. As I approached the fence, they came wondering over, curious and hoping for carrots no doubt.
One of the things that I love about horses is how unaware they are of personal space. As I stood with my hands in my pockets, they sniffed and nuzzled my face, my hair, and pockets, as they searched for any goodies I might be hiding. They are not shy. They are not afraid to look and feel and smell who you are.
I’d like to have horses again some day. On some land. With a rancher.
Rumor has it the Pioneer Woman has a brother in law
Hey... What are you looking at?