My House, The Dead Sea.

Seven years ago when we moved into this house we had lots of extra space. We had been living in a small four bedroom house with a bath and a half, and four teenagers; That year our two extras--a foreign exchange student and a foster child-- moved off to college, and we accepted the pastorate of a church near the school where I teach. The parsonage was huge and beautiful. I still live in it with a kind of awe. We had to buy extra couches for the front living room and an extra bed for the guest room, but, for the most part, we left it bare; it was heavenly. That was seven years ago.

Do you remember reading about the Dead Sea? It receives water from the Jordan river and a couple of little wadis, but it has no outlet. The water evaporates and leaves minerals and salt. Fish die. People float. It stinks.

That's my house. Well nobody is dying yet, but I'm floating. There is too much inflow and not enough outflow. I'm on the cleaning offensive. I'm going to dig three canals to the Gulf of Aqaba and let this stuff sail away. Trinkets, extra clothes in sizes that might fit someday, dishes I don't need, even (gasp) books. It's going to go. In a month there is going to be a town-wide garage sale here. I'm enlisting. Here is my junk. Please, please take some.

For years I've been assigning maps in geography and my students have been labeling the Dead Sea. Recently, I google-earthed it and discovered that the resourceful Israelis have drained the water off the lower part--the part below the Lisan. It seems that there is great mineral wealth to be harvested there. When I first saw it, it surprised me. I mean, changing natural landmarks like that...uncovering the bottom of a sea; what admirable nerve! I guess they figure if they did it once they can do it again.

Israelis, you inspire me.
I'm going to harvest this house--pump out the sludge and discover treasures. In fact, I'm starting with the attic.