Tag Archives: old friends

I love my Oregon

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” We’ve heard this cliche spoken a million times. Usually in regards to relationships.

But it’s also true of places.

We’re gearing up for a trip to Oregon in two-and-a-half weeks (what?? so soon??!) and my heart is about to explode with excitement about it.

I’ve lived overseas for most of my adult life.

I moved out when I was 17. Took off for Europe when I was 18. Returned to Oregon at 19. Left for Asia at 22. And have been living in Australia since 23.

In the 18ish years I’ve been living on my own, only 4ish of them were actually in Oregon.

But in my mind, Oregon (Central Oregon actually) is this near-perfect place that I always can’t wait to get back to. (Yes, having my family and church and “old” friends there definitely contribute to that.)

I realize that some of my perception has grown out of a longing and homesickness for the familiar, but still, there’s this awareness of just how incredible my little mountain “town” really is.

An awareness that certainly wasn’t there until I “grew up” and moved away.

And I know it’s real because I go back there and it does not disappoint.

It really is that awesome.

Who knows if I’ll ever live there again.

I might live the rest of my days in Australia. Or not.

But I know one thing for certain, my heart is big enough to have two homes (not including my real one in heaven).

I love my Oregon. I can’t wait to introduce the newest Booker boy to her goodness, and my other Booker boys to the glories of her summer.

Two-and-a-half weeks and counting…

until I’ll be home.



Q for you: Have you experienced the “absence makes the heart grow fonder” phenomenon in regards to a person or a place?




Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited

Going away and coming home

I just returned from the most refreshing three days I’ve had in a long time.

Judah and I went to Sydney where I met up with friends–most of whom I haven’t seen in five years–and visited family.

We ate Thai. We picnicked in the park. We got absorbed in the city. We talked about deep and meaningful issues. We walked miles and miles and miles, pushing strollers all the way.

I had pockets of “alone” time – small ones – but enough to remember how much I love breathing city air and merging into the bustle. (Alone time, meaning just Judah and I.)

There were special moments between my son and I that are hard to articulate, but I’m so grateful for. We’re closer because of it.

It’s hard to explain why this weekend was so perfect, but it just was.

And as I collapsed  into bed last night – exhausted and sore – I had a smile on my face knowing that I’d wake up and go home again.

Home to my family, home to my loves, home to my heart.

Going away is amazing. But coming home is even better.

(I missed this guy.)

I’m so grateful for this weekend away. My heart is truly full.



Q for you: Have you been away lately? Do you love coming home as much as I do?




Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited

Passing over (chaos) and holy communion

I imagined that tonight I would write something about Passover after returning from a beautiful feast put on by our YWAM community.

Something deep and spiritual and lovely.

And yet truthfully? My family adn I showed up ten minutes late after frantically tying sheets on like togas and forgetting the baby food and tripping over all sorts of unfinished business around hte house.

The beautiful meal was all laid out for us, adn many had taken great care in preparing the food and atmosphere and explanations of all of hte symbolism to help us understand adn breathe deeply, receive and have revelation.

Yet most of my evening was spent cleaning up spilled “wine” (cordial), toddler taming, and fretting about my baby’s growing over-tiredness. So much so that I was barely able to follow along with much of hte flow of hte evening.

Despite my lack of “passover-ing” I had a beautiful moment of catching up with an old friend who I haven’t seen in four years. In hushed tones while the program went on we swapped stories of life – triumph and victories as well as struggles and hardships – adn then spent a few quiet moments praying for each other.

“Were we supposed to be having communion?” my friend asked me.

The truth is, we were having communion – sharing the reality of Jesus through our lives and circumstances and care for one another.

It’s Holy Week, a time for remembering Jesus – who he is and what he’s done for us. And also for remembering who he lives within… us.


Q for you: Are you observing Passover or other elements of Holy Week?


Click Clink Five | Minutes a day, unedited. 
Adriel also writes (using spell check!) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos

Old friends in the attic

I’ve got this record collection. A really good one.

It lives in my parents’ attic.

In another country.

I think about it more often that you’d think. I wonder… have those old friends warped? Are they ok up there in the heat of summer and the bitter cold of winter?

Some of them have been passed down to me from my own music-loving dad (oh, our beloved Bob Dylan) and others are from my childhood (every Amy Grant record ever made… until CDs came out I guess). And still others are ones I found in my own early adulthood (Ella, Duke, Dizzy…).

I’ve wondered many times how to get those old friends across the big Pacific Ocean, but luggage restrictions and “more important things” have always held me back.

But I miss seeing my music.

Don’t get me wrong. I love me some iPod tunes. I love having my music stored digitally and living in my pocket.

But I also find that I forget about music when it’s hidden in lists with no pretty picture to remind me to listen.

I miss scrolling through the record jackets (or heck, even the CD cases) to see what feels right for the moment.

Someday I will reclaim that record collection from the attic. Someday.



Q for you: Did you have records? Do you still?




Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spellcheck) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos

Sitting on the bench like bookends

There’s a Simon and Garfunkle song called Old Friends with a line in it that says:

“Old friends… sat on the park bench like bookends.”

I always liked that line, though never really considered what it might mean.

This week I have an “old friend” visiting.

We have not seen each other in almost two years. Our phone calls and emails have been far too few and in between.

Much has happened in our lives since we were last together.

Since having her here I’ve thought many times that it feels like an eternity since I last saw her (when you consider all that’s happened in both of our lives since tehn). And yet at the same time I also feel like she never left.

Being together again is so normal, so right.

Ryan and I have said that many times about our own kids as well.

In some ways it seems like not that long ago that we were in Spain, just the two of us, living on a dime with the whole future before us.

But it also feels like a lifetime ago.

It’s hard to rememver our lives without the kids, now tht they are such a part of it.

(We like it that way.)

And as I soak up the time with my dear firend, I think about what once was between us. It—too—feels like a lifetime ago, and yet also feels like yesterday.

The “bookends” thing finally makes a little sense.

We’re far apart and yet the stories between us, the shared experiences, the challenges, memories, discussions, growth, and laughter… Those things will always be between us, giving us something to hold up and hold onto.

And finally, I’m a litle more comfortable on my park bench.




Q for you: Have you ever thought of yourself as a bookend – holding up volumes of stories and memories?




Click Clink Five is a blog by Adriel Booker. | Five minutes a day, unedited. | 2012 All rights reserved. | Adriel also writes on parenting and motherhood at The Mommyhood Memos.