TJ Greaney

The Whole Thing Is About More, Not Less...

2012-01-01T07:00:00.000-08:00

The whole focus on New Year’s has traditionally been, less. Promises to not eat as much, not watch so much television, not drink so much, not be away from the family as much. The list goes on and on. Commitment lists are long and, for most, short-lived. Lots of the things we want to give up on each year are hard and have so engrained themselves in our lives that you might as well pick up a school bus and balance it on your toe.

Years ago I had a wise man tell me that if I wanted to do something for the new year, make a change, commit to something small. Plan something doable. I always thought that was good advice. It can be worse to try and fail a big goal than to feel the gift of accomplishing something, albeit small. But it is not the nature of most, including myself, to do something small. I want to pick a mountain to move and dig in. I have also failed many times, and the disappointment was hard each time.

Setting big goals are important. Having high expectations and planning and executing hard things are good, essential and thrilling. When the little town of Mason, Texas, saw the State Championship in their sights they never stepped back. They had never won the championship, but they never allowed themselves to think they could not win it, either. David was but a small shepherd boy, and no one thought he was capable of taking on the giant Philistine warrior, Goliath. You know how that story ended.

I have thought long and hard about the real way to make a change in the way I live my life, my health and my walk with the Lord. It seems to boil down to more, not less. More Bluebell ice cream, more big cigars, more couch time, television and hunting. Wrong. That is what my flesh wants. That would be easiest, I think, and I have to say on so many levels it draws me in. I love all that stuff to an extreme; therefore lies a big chunk of the problem.

What I have concluded is that more will actually be less. More reading, more time in quiet reflection with God, more time with my family, more music, more walking uneven ground, more patience, more joy… I know from past experiences these things bring the changes, lifestyle, life vibe I love. They are the things that truly make me happy and feel good. I know from experience that when I am doing these things the things I would really like to decrease do, naturally, by themselves.

More can be hard too, maybe even harder than less. There were 12 guys who walked with Jesus for three years every day. They saw His miracles over and over. He even empowered them to perform miracles. They saw the sickest of the sick healed, they saw the dead brought back to life, they saw compassion and they lived in council by Jesus Himself for years, and still they struggled to get it. They were human as we all are and the things of the world, the lies we live with, are confusing and take us out of the game over and over. The first sentence in the literary classic “The Road Less Traveled” is, “Life is difficult.” It is.

Those 12 guys who walked with Jesus were slow to get it. But He came back one last time, standing on the shore as they returned from a barren fishing trip. He called to them as He had before, telling them to drop their nets and haul in their catch. There, on shore, was a small fire where He was cooking fish for them to share for breakfast. He loved them. He forgave Peter for denying Him. He told them, go, do what I have taught you. Guys, it’s time -- do hard things. And they did, most dying for professing His love and grace to those who needed to be loved the most, those who were sick, lonely and downtrodden.

The biggest change for me in recent years was one that I really did not plan specifically but was actually lead to. It was a flame. It was a heartfelt ache. It was obedience. It was a hunger from since I was a kid that brought it on. How do you explain the feeling you get when you know you’re loved?

Someone once asked Billy Graham, "If Christianity is valid, why is there so much evil in the world?"

To this the famous preacher replied, "With so much soap, why are there so many dirty people in the world? Christianity, like soap, must be personally applied if it is to make a difference in our lives."

What do I want to accomplish this year? I want to do more. I want to do more with others trying to explain that feeling inside that drives me today. The feeling I hungered for all my life. I will read more books and spend more time hiking and listening to God’s quiet words that encourage and counsel me. I am going to look for joy, pray for joy.

Am I going to quit Bluebell cookies and cream, quit watching television or balance a school bus on my toe? Probably not. But like those guys having breakfast that morning with Christ on the beach, I have felt His presence, and I am not afraid of brokenness. I am in for more.

2011-11-30T08:36:00.000-08:00

It is a Christmas tradition for many to send out the year in review Christmas letter to friends and family. This year I wrote one to the mother of my best friend.

Dear Ruth,

I am not sure what to say except, thank you. Thank you for taking me in when I was lost and wandering the neighborhood back so many years ago. I don’t remember exactly how I came to be there or how I became friends with your youngest, Danny, but at the time you gave me a place to stay, sleep, shower, eat. I believe now, that day, the Holy Spirit began to work on me.

It was not too many years before I remember walking down an interstate highway in the middle of Alabama. It was the middle of the night. I was in my mid-teens. It was cold; I was hungry, alone, tired, and it began to rain. I remember looking across a wide open pasture at an old farmhouse; the light on the porch was the only thing you could see for miles. I remember wishing from deep in my soul that I could go to that house and be part of the family that lived there. I longed for the warmth inside and dreamed they would care for me. Your home became that safe haven to me for an important season of my life.

At the time you probably could not have picked a worse influence on your youngest son. When my parents split and my father slipped into the darkness of his alcoholism the lack of a mentor caused an open wound that oozed pain and poor decisions. I walked out of the house and began the life of a teenage vagabond. The questions of what do I do, how do I do it, who am I were the questions for which I lacked answers; the things I did to try and answer them were way off. I was not a bad kid inside; a lack of guidance for so many years had me looking to fill the emptiness I felt in my heart with things that would never last -- things that hurt others and put myself and those I influenced in peril.

But God uses everything to His good. You and Mr. D. were different, and I was moved by how your family operated. You talked about things like politics and God, right, wrong and Scripture. When I went to church with you, I met folks who seemed to truly care for each other and shared a God, His Son and the Holy Spirit -- something completely foreign to me. In that small church I committed to Christ and was baptized. I had a mentor give me a Bible -- the one I use to this day.

I can’t say that at that moment everything changed for me. I eventually drifted off and spent more time wandering about. Life happened, and I had some more learning to do. We saw each other over the years,, and you were always loving, polite and sincere. We had wonderful conversations about life and politics.

But it was that year, 1984, when you opened your home to a scruffy and precarious boy that I was introduced to the loving Christ I know today as my Lord and Savior. It was one of the most important seasons of my life. That time at your home, the unconditional love I found there, taught me that the things I was trying to use to fill my heart would never be enough. I was never the same after that.

Today, I live in that old farmhouse, not literally, but the home where God, family and ministry are the priority. On any given day our home is filled with boys and girls who don’t always have the support they need to figure out who they are and how to make decisions. Some come from broken homes, some abused, some just lost for no real reason I can see except the evil one wants to add to his dominion. But they are just like every kid that comes into this world. They need a guide, or guides, to show them the way, to love on them, to care about them. If they can be introduced as I was to a loving and caring Father, there is hope. They will never be able to deny that He is real and they are never truly alone.

There are people in each of our lives who form the character, the essence, the foundation of who we are. It can be a parent, a coach, a pastor or a passing friend. They can come and go at any time carving out the design of our life. In His perfect timing and His flawless ways God introduced me to Ruth. I met a loving and caring woman who cherished her family, family traditions and her Godly Father. You probably don’t have any idea how profoundly you affected my life. You showed me it is important to think and that doing something, being somebody, is significant. I acquired the desire to read at your home. Your influence expanded my ability to dream and conquer the fears I found so often in the dark and lonely places I wandered. You gave me the deep desire to love God, love my family and love others.

The Ruth in the Bible is a woman of extraordinary faith, love and commitment. She honors Naomi, her mother in-law, without question, and she trusts her heavenly Father with everything. God must have loved her dearly. Her legacy became eternal as the grandmother of David. My Ruth is so much like her namesake. She has inspired untold numbers to Christ and to stand firm and hold on to their commitments and beliefs.

In my life, Mrs. D., know I am forever grateful. I want you to know that those things I saw back then move me to inspire, care for, show the love of Christ to boys who are where I was. I have been blessed to lead many to the Lord, which is, in many ways, the heritage of you caring for me. Eternal and forever they will be in heaven and their families changed for generations we will never know.

I am honored to have been one of your many students. As Christmas comes and I reflect on the loving kindness I have been shown, know that I love you and think about you often.

I hope you are proud of me today.

God bless you and keep you, Tom Greaney

Lies and the Filthy Dull Sword

2011-10-31T07:04:00.000-07:00

The captain yelled, “All hands on deck” as the enemy came close to ram the merchant ship. Everyone knew the battle was about to begin and that some would be wounded or die the slow death from a filthy dull sword of cold and rusty steel thrust through their gut. It was brutal, and there was no way you could allow fear in.

The movie “Saving Private Ryan” was horribly graphic in showing what our soldiers endured as they landed on Omaha beach on June 6, 1944. It was World War II, and there were no guided missiles launched from miles away to clear the bunkers ahead of them. The men who assaulted the beach claimed “fear be damned.” Their friends and fellow Americans fell at their sides as they pushed on.

So often we find things in our lives that seem impossible to overcome or too scary to even attempt. Many times there are people in our lives who have told us that we could never achieve that goal or that it really isn’t for us. Fear comes and we allow it to speak into our lives. “You can’t run very far, so forget the idea of that for exercise.” “You never made it out of high school; writing a book is stupid.” Fear breaks our heart’s desires, and we fall victim to just living today as best we can and wait for the night.

But it is those moments, when the evil one speaks and crushes our spirit that we must stand and fight. There are times I just don’t allow myself to “go there” and push ahead. Almost every time I run I have that battle. For many of us it is the still quiet moments when we are alone and vulnerable that the attacks come.

Texas musician and songwriter Pat Green has a powerful song, “In the Middle of the Night,” that so clearly describes how we must be prepared for those lies. How they come to us when we are weakest.

When there's no one around
And the silence in your soul is the only sound
In the darkness that surrounds you
Are you hiding from the light
When you finally hit rock bottom
Will you do what's wrong or right
You're gonna find out what you're made of...
In the middle of the night

I realized that the moments when we are faced with decision are not hardest when with our friends, therapist or family. It is those times in the middle of the night, when we are out alone driving or on a trip. Those are the times the evil one comes, the pirates storm the boat, that is our beachfront in Normandy.

For me, today, having Christ and a heart for the Lord has made me a far better warrior in those moments. I have tools like the Bible and the hunger for His love, to please Him, that drives me to not click on that link, not buy that whatever, not stretch the truth, not allow fear to enter, to say no.

This Thanksgiving you may be blessed to spend time with your family. I say blessed because I have lost some close to me, and as I get older the things that matter most are changing. You may be confronted face-to-face with a battle that in the past has made you weary. There may be anger toward a brother, sister, mom or dad. Maybe the old house brings back feelings you don’t like. A spirit of antagonism or frustration may be something you recognize as you cross the threshold. How long have we lived in an “it is what it is” situation? How long have we just accepted the lie that that it will never change, that they are never going to say they’re sorry, that I didn’t do anything, there is nothing wrong with it, that we can do it every once in a while, that everyone else lives this way, too? That, my friend, is where your battle begins.

I have so many things in my life that I want to do. So many amends and so many opportunities to care for others and improve how I love on those who are closest to me. Dropping out of school 40 years ago does not define me. Having had a drug problem and all the terrible things with which I lived and did all those years does not define me. Those things in your life do not have to define you. Do we have to just put our heads down and push forward some days to run those last two laps or even just get out of bed? Yes. Do we have to call on God to help us forgive those who have wounded us so deeply? For me, yes.

I have never been faced with an angry pirate wielding a rusty sword or had to charge the front lines. But the battles I do fight, the ones that are my Normandy, are real and hard and the wounds can be deep. The blessing for me today is I am equipped with tools and a Supreme Commander who knows me, my gifts and failings. He is always there even if I don’t see Him. His heart is something I can feel; it is real. And those times, in the middle of the night when I am alone, He is there reminding me I am good and smart and loved. He never lets me down. Victory.

The Handshake and the Deal

2011-09-02T10:09:00.000-07:00

When I first got married I ran a construction company. I actually met my wife working on one of the properties she managed. Once we were married, she began to see the behind-the-scene workings of the business and how I interacted with the men who worked for me.

One of the young men who had worked for us for quite some time was a handsome young buck with a great smile and knew how to interact with the clients. He was always a favored worker because he was so good with customers and usually got his work completed on time. My wife thought he was fantastic.

But as with any person or employee there are almost always things that come up, problems or personal habits that can be hard on a business operator. My star buck started to get to work late, over and over; not a lot, 10 or 15 minutes, but it was every day. For the most part he would get us all laughing or create a diversion and lighten the moods of everyone; everyone but me.

I talked to him for weeks trying to explain how important it was to be there earlier than his crew. It was important for him to be the example and if he was always late then they would think it was OK for them to be late, as well. There are a lot of reasons why I had to tell him he only had one more chance and that day he seemed to take it seriously. The next day I took his keys and fired him when he came in late.

A lot of folks thought I had made a big mistake. Customers were asking for him and a few of the guys on his team left soon after.

I, however, was not moved by their pleas and angry comments. I have a rule I live by – if a man (or woman) shakes my hand and agrees to do something then I expect them to do their part, no excuses. If I have agreed to pay a certain amount for certain hours to do certain things, then I will do it and I have never missed a payroll.

I know a lot of guys, men, who still show up late to things because they struggle getting out of bed or they call in sick because they don’t feel like doing something. There are guys who cancel because they get a better offer and abandon obligations they have made previously. I don’t profess perfection in any area but I do, however, want my kids to grow up and respect the obligations they make to others. I will be the example; they will have to choose if they follow it.

There were plenty of times I underbid a job or just plain goofed up and to finish the job it was going to cost us. We completed the job as agreed. It hurt and some folks may have walked on their commitments; we never did.

Michael Jordan said, “I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six times, I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.” When MJ had a practice, he arrived early and stayed a few minutes later than everyone else. When he was young he shot the ball over and over. He didn’t do the least and expect the most. He didn’t blow off his team mates to do a Pepsi commercial or hang with Tiger Woods. He was committed and showed up.

Jesus tells the story of the wealthy man giving three servants gold coins to keep while he was away. Two invested them and one buried his. Now, we won’t go through the whole verse but to the ones who took their coins and invested them, who took their obligation seriously he replied: Luke 19:17 “‘Well done, my good servant!’ the master replied. ‘Because you have been trustworthy in a very small matter, you will take charge of much.’”

Trust, success, obligation and a man’s word all matter. A handshake, a nod, the words “I will,” “I agree” and “Yes” matter. In a world that, for many, consists of many gray areas, in-betweens, maybes and modest amounts of true commitment, we can be fooled into thinking that it is that way for everyone and, thus, acceptable. It is not.

Today we live in a world that needs strong commitment. A person who has a reputation of doing what they say and saying what they mean stands out. They lead and set the bar for those who choose to follow.

I don’t expect a man to do something that would hurt his family, himself or others. I know that there are times when we are fooled into something that turns out to be different than what we were told or how it was represented. Discernment, prayer, asking for council from a wise or trained and trusted friend is important is these situations.

But the basic rule of thumb when it comes to honor, trust and reputation is simple. When the alarm goes off, get up. When you agree to do a job for a man, do it even if it costs you. When God speaks to you, listen and obey. Stand up for what you believe, do what you say, get your brothers back, get there early and stay late, give yours plus one.

Trust is the key to many a door when lost, so the opportunity to open those doors is lost as well. Yeah, I’m a hard guy sometimes but the basic truths remain. I get too nervous to hit the snooze, just my luck that would be the one day I should have been there. That would be the day Jesus comes to the coffee shop to just talk, the rich guy is walking around handing out $100 bills, the biggest buck walks past my deer blind and the kitchen remodel guy on TV was at the Home Depot looking for a kitchen to redo, free! No, I’m getting up, we need a dishwasher and stove.

Joe Mayes, West Texas Preacher

2011-07-30T20:58:00.000-07:00

This was a note to my pastor and dear friend recently when I was not at our weekly men's meeting to provide him with a Staff, Sword and Shepard's Crook. I was in charge of the Staff and the Sword, my close friend Brain Mathews handed over the Crook. He is an amazing leader caring and training up the men in our church to lead.

Joe Don Mayes,

Well I know if I was there with you guys this morning I would not be doing what we talk about many days there between 6 and 7:30, creating memories with our kids and wives, leading our families and showing them through our actions our love for them is a priority.

Joe Don, God has prepared you in so many ways to lead the Fellowship Church family right now and I know for you, looking back, you see it clearer than we do – but we know some of the stories, the life line – the trail you rode that brought you to this place, this morning, this group of men, your Band of Brothers and we know that you were lead by the Holy Spirit here to this place and time.

LT. Coronel Alan Stokes was known as a fighting soldier’s soldier during WW II. During one push behind the enemy lines he came up on a group of his soldiers outside an old farmhouse taking fire from the enemy inside – When he asked the commanding officer on site why he had not taken the farmhouse he was told “because they are shooting back at us”. He looked at his officer puzzled, he told him – “rally your men and fall in behind me – get ready to fight” he pulled his Army issue Colt .45, loaded it, then took a grenade in his other hand.

Then Stokes stood, yelled at the top of his lungs “ FORWARD” – and he charged through gunfire and smoke leading the squad to the house firing and throwing his grenade inside taking out the enemy gun that had held them at bay.

As they cleared the farmhouse and Stokes prepared to leave he turned to the commanding officer and said ”son, that is how you take the enemy” – and he left heading to the front lines. That day those soldiers saw the courage and leadership they needed to conquer the enemy that had them held down.

The Staff is our symbol that we will honor you, our elders and leadership – we will accept discipline and guidance from the God given authority that He placed in you and them through our church – we will learn, we will teach, we will lead by that example.

The Sword is a symbol of the warrior, the one who stands ready to die for the cause, to battle the enemy– to stand in the way of danger and oppression. It also hangs on the side of the guard at the gate and the mounted warrior horseback.

Shepards Crook - (Brian)

Many think we have spent the last three years in a battle for our church, our family. But they are wrong. Yes we had battles, but not every day has been at the front line – your men have held close – this group of warriors on Wednesday morning – we have grown in our walk with mighty leaps, through tears and laughter, brokenness and victories – together. You and Brian have trained us, been faithful in leadership – you have taught us by example – Today brother Joe Don Mayes, Pastor, Fellowship Church Southwest - We stand behind you – ready to follow your lead – ready to battle on all fronts for our church family – prepared to continue searching for the heart of Jesus with you and lead our families in God’s love and compassion – we are your Bonerges’ “ Son’s of Thunder – we are your Band of Brothers - - - “Let’s Roll” –

Mark 3: 13-17 - 13 Jesus went up on a mountainside and called to him those he wanted, and they came to him. 14 He appointed twelve[a] that they might be with him and that he might send them out to preach 15 and to have authority to drive out demons. 16 These are the twelve he appointed: Simon (to whom he gave the name Peter), 17 James son of Zebedee and his brother John (to them he gave the name Boanerges, which means “sons of thunder”), 18 Andrew, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James son of Alphaeus, Thaddaeus, Simon the Zealot 19 and Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him.

The Shuttle and Dead Shrimp are Part of Who I Am

2011-07-30T14:15:00.001-07:00

On July 31, 2011 at 3:16 in the dark morning skies, the shuttle Atlantis came to a stop on the Cape Canaveral runway in Florida. Thirty years of inspiration and amazing space travel came to a close at that moment, and, for me, it was very emotional because I grew up in the center of the space program.

Mom and dad built a small but comfortable home in Nassau Bay back in the early ‘70s after moving us from the Bellaire area of Houston. Nassau Bay is a well appointed neighborhood south of Houston. Nasa Road 1 was the main drag running across the front of the development and is the main route to the National Aeronautics and Space Administration’s Lyndon B. Johnso n Space Center off Interstate Highway 45.

The neighborhood had lots of kids and young families. Parts of Galveston bay and a fresh water lake drew me and my gear loaded wagon to the water’s edge. Mom says I spent hours fishing and catching anything and everything.

I was in my early teens when we arrived on St. Charles Street, and my friendships were all new. Evans and I quickly became inseparable. He had two older brothers, and Wyatt became John’s, my older brother, friend. Evans and I spent so much time together it was not uncommon for one of our moms or dads to joke, “Why don’t you just get married?”

We did everything together -- good and bad. We build forts in Gaston’s woods, swam in the bay and snuck out to walk the neighborhood at night. Occasionally we would be wandering as the sun came up and see the milkman delivering to homes. With timing and precision we would sneak up on the unsuspecting homeowner’s porch and snag a half gallon for breakfast. Lord, forgive me for that and so many other sins in my youth.

The late ‘60s and early ‘70s were a huge time for the space program, and we were in the middle of it. NASA (the name before it was changed) was where it all happened. It was the control center and training facility for the astronauts on the ground and in space. Evans and I would walk over to the Space Center and explore. We would go into most any of the buildings, and I don’t remember ever being questioned or kept from exploring.

One of our favorite places was a news center with satellite dishes and all types of antenna on top of the hotel just cross from the Space Center. While the astronauts were in space, the news center would come alive and be broadcasting the news and reports. We would just walk in and watch it all happen. It was exciting.

Apollo 12 was the sixth manned flight in the American Apollo program and the second to land on the moon. It was launched on Nov. 14, 1969 from the Kennedy Space Center in Florida. Mission Commander Charles "Pete" Conrad and Lunar Module Pilot Alan L. Bean performed just over one day and seven hours of lunar surface activity while Command Module Pilot Richard F. Gordon remained in lunar orbit. There were six Apollo spaceflights; 12 men walked on the moon. These are the only times humans have landed on another celestial body. The Apollo program ran until 1975.

Tom Gordon was Astronaut Captain Dick Gordon’s son and a running buddy of mine and Evans. During many of the space flights, his parents would be gone and we would hang at his house and raid the fridge. I remember lots of cool things his dad had received as gifts from kings, presidents and leaders from around the world after his moon flight. One specific thing I remember was a rose dipped in pure gold -- it was way cool.

But as much as I wish I could say things for me back then were perfect, I have to admit they were not. I don’t know exactly what it was that got me off track, but I began to explore drugs and my school interest began to tumble. Things at home turned hard, and my father’s drinking began to take its toll.

Today as a dad and armed with my life story, I want to keep my family from experiencing a lot of the same hardships. I want so badly for them to have memories and life lessons from a father who clearly trusted God and strived for His guidance in every way. I want them to know that we all make mistakes and make bad decisions, no matter who we are. I want them to know it boils down to knowing a loving God and that each day they can push the restart button and try to do it better, with Him.

Of course the list of things we did back then is long and troubled. One particular day we had been fishing and throwing our casting nets out in the shallow bay. Small shrimp were a common catch and this one day we pocketed a few for later use. Mid-morning found us at the pancake house on Nasa Road 1, sitting at the counter drinking soda. A small voice on one of our shoulders, I really don’t remember whose, tricked us into putting the small dead shrimp in the ketchup bottle and putting the top back on before we left. I know that later, at some point, a waitress was angry, a cook was angry, a customer was mad. I confess and ask for forgiveness today as I write this. I promise to never do it again. Thank you, God, for Your grace each and every day. Man, do I need it.

Fear Be Damned....

2011-06-29T08:01:00.000-07:00

I am not sure where we were, just some mountain area, most likely in Colorado. Back when I was a young boy my family did the summer vacation road trips each year. Being on a mountainside looking over the valley below and a mountain creek flowing next to us were the kinda places my dad would find for us; it was beautiful. This particular day as we watched the valley, a storm drew in and the skies turned grey. Then it happened.

The bottom of one of the clouds began to spin, and a point formed. The point dropped down, and then it was a narrow tube. A tornado. We could see it from the mountainside, and my family and the other campers near us gathered to watch Mother Nature do her thing. Twisting and turning wildly through the valley floor, tearing up pastures and brush as it moved along.

I was so scared when I saw the tornado. I am not sure how to describe it except that maybe like a dog that senses a thunderstorm and is filled with anxiety and fear. I remember asking my mom what we would do if it came up to where we were. How would we be protected?

My first encounter with a mega-storm was just a few years earlier when Hurricane Carla came across the coast of Texas near Galveston. I was just 3 years old, but I remember playing on the front porch of our home in Houston during the eye of the storm. Roofing shingles, dead birds and branches littered the front yard as I rolled my metal Tonka truck back and forth under the covered porch. Then little-known newsman Dan Rather reported live from the Galveston Seawall during the storm, an act that would be imitated by later reporters. This marked the first live TV broadcast of a hurricane. I don’t remember being scared at all.

Growing up each year on his birthday, my oldest son got to go fishing. We would skip school and head to the lake and spend the day doing what we loved to do. One day as we floated along talking, he looked at me and started laughing and pointing.

“Your hair is standing straight up,” he said with an innocent laugh.

At that very moment I realized we were in trouble. I told him to set his rod down and sit down. I quickly hopped into the driver seat and motored us to the closest dock. We had been watching a thunderstorm roll in but were enjoying the breeze and the increased action with the fish. I never thought about the potential we might get hit by lightning. It is rare but possible, which scared me.

Fear is something that can wreak havoc in our minds and our lives if we don’t understand it. Unreasonable fear can cause phobias like driving on a freeway or riding in an elevator. There are times I am walking in the dark and in my mind I know it is safe, but I still fight being scared of something. I don’t quite know why that is, but I do.

I truly think that Satan uses fear in our lives to take us out of the game, too. He uses fear to keep us from asking for help. He uses it to keep us from making friendships or taking off time from work to be with our family. He uses it to convince us we can’t do things and are unworthy. He uses it to keep us from opening up and allowing ourselves to be vulnerable to our spouses or friends when we are hurting or have needs. It can keep us from being who God wants us to be, who He has trained us to be. Fear manifests itself in so many ways, and for me I have to check in with God regularly and ask what is it I am afraid of that is keeping me from Him. I have to be willing to ask, and I have to be unafraid to hear the answer.

When we were on the mountainside that day and I asked my mom what we would do to keep safe if that tornado came up the mountain she said, “Well, we could lay in the ditch right there, and it will go right over us.”

I ran to the ditch and checked out where my spot was going to be – I wanted to know where I was going when it hit. The whole thing only lasted a few minutes before the tornado dissipated. I learned later that it would not have come up the mountainside anyway. I didn’t know that then and I was scared but knowing my mom had a plan, that she knew what to do, made me feel better.

I know today that God has a plan for me and that everything is part of that plan. I know He has a safe place for me when things are dangerous. Even still, in my humanity, I forget and feed into the fear of everyday life. Fear of death and sickness, money and accidents. But all in all I learned that tornados don’t go up the mountainside and hurricanes come and go. I know that those times I run and jump into the ditch He is with me, protecting me and I am safe. Fear, be damned.

2011-06-23T16:25:00.000-07:00

I have a sit spot. No it’s not a blister on my butt from being lazy. It is what “Coyote Mentoring” calls a place in nature you sit regularly and learn about nature, tune into nature, leave the electronics behind and sit still and quiet. In one spot, the same spot and learn it. I love it.

Recently when my daughter and I were walking in some public area, I don’t remember exactly where it was, a mall parking lot or festival grounds, she told me to “walk faster.” “Dad, you’re walking like an old person, let’s go”. She said partially aggravated, partially laughing. I told her I was just taking in the moment with her. Really I was thinking and really not in much of a hurry to be anywhere any faster. I was content. But, I sped up my pace.

It wasn’t long after that the same thing happened, “Dad, you’re walking slow again.” This time it concluded with “you’re walking like an old man, let’s go.” Now, I am laughing. I find myself comfortable in a different pace than this 16-year-old kid and I like it. I like that it aggravates her first and foremost. I am always looking at ways to aggravate my kids with a purpose and this was a good one. “Slow down, enjoy this time with your dad.” I said. Didn’t work, she was trying to get to the truck to get home, a comfortable seat to text from or something along those lines I guess.

Now first of all, my kids are loving and caring as any kids ever. They are also teens and oblivious to a lot of things that don’t include their current life needs or crisis. I lived that way for almost all my life. To this day I find myself caught up in a whirlwind of electronics and business that means absolutely nothing when it comes down to the core things of importance.

Core level is living in the beauty of the moment but tends to only happen when someone is dying, coming back from tragedy, living in pain or hurt in one form or another. We as humans tend to have to have a brick to the side of the head to see life’s true core beauty.

I wanted to say here that there is something to be said for the hippie way of life. I wanted to find a correlating lifestyle that defined what I am trying to describe. I looked up hippie to see if that fit, peaceful, introspective and compassionate but most of the definitions for hippie were anti-establishment and included drugs. That doesn’t fit. But then I realized that in the bible Jesus often went to find still quiet places to pray and be comforted. He would spend the day talking to thousands then jump in a boat and go across the lake to a quiet wilderness area. He often went to the garden to be still and quiet. He found sit spots to connect to His Father and His creation, to reflect on the core level things important to us all.

When I called my daughter at work, Callahan’s General Store, and asked if she would bring me a bird feeder home and some seed she laughed. She joked with the other employee’s at the store who know me about my new obsession with bird watching.

I am liking trying to figure out my humming bird feeder and my new seed bird feeder. I get up early with a cup of coffee and sit on my porch swing and watch in anticipation of a bird coming to the feeder. It is exciting to see the different types.

Oh man, did I just say it is exciting to see birds coming into my bird feeder? Did I just reveal that I am enjoying sitting on my porch swinging in an old swing? Oh geez, I am getting old. But ya know what, I would not change this time in my life for all the youth and muscles and hair in the world. Thanks God for core experiences I will have today through You.

Health and Healing

2011-05-03T11:27:00.001-07:00

When mom called a few weeks back and told me she had breast cancer my heart dropped. Since we lost my dad several years ago I had not had to deal with a personal loss at this level. I dread the idea but know that she and my step dad Bob are getting past mid seventies and things start to happen.

Lee was a dear friend and we spent years together hanging out and doing life together as single dads. Lee had an amazing story. He ran away when he was 14 and joined the circus. After the circus years he became a merchant marine and travelled the world. He was a great story teller and he always had one.

A nuclear power plant could not produce as much energy as Lee. He was always planning his next deal or business, visiting or socializing, working or loving on his two daughters. One day out of the blue my cell phone rang and it was Lee. “Hey, I’m in the hospital can you come see me,” he asked. Worried I left right away and when I got there he told me the news. He had pancreatic cancer and they were going to start treatments right away. What, Lee, how in the world?

It was a fast progression from that call to when he moved into our home where we cared for him and his daughters as he prepared for the end of his time here with us on earth. Through it all we learned about the horrific disease and watched this vivacious, little ball of fire turn thin and frail. It hurt. We were introduced to Hospice and finally Christopher House through this experience. Lee left for his reward Feb. 13, 2006.

Lee told me one time that 11:11 on the clock was special to him. I can’t remember what it was, probly something to do with winning the lottery or a finding a wife, I’m not sure. These days it seems I look at the clock a lot and it happens to be 11:11. My wife and I always say hi to him at 11:11 and talk to him for that minute or two. He left that with us to remember him, weird but classic Lee.

What seems like just a few months ago my wife’s best friend’s husband Jeff was diagnosed with the same hideous cancer. They were married less than a year and he was gone. It ravaged this strong, courageous, funny, brilliant professional poker player just as it did my seafaring friend Lee. My wife walked closely with her friend and shared what we had learned just a few years earlier. It may have helped some, but there is little you can say during those times.

I know the Lord can do miracles and healing is one of them. There are mighty and wonderful stories of those who were diagnosed with a horrific disease only to have it vanish. There are those who have lived years past the date they were told would be the extent of their time on earth. I believe in all my heart God does these things.

As Jesus walked the streets and people learned of His healings and believed His teachings they came from near and far. Just to touch His robe was enough to be healed for those who believed. Jesus healed with mud and spit and touch. He healed by speaking it over someone and professing that they be healed, He even empowered His apostles to heal the sick and lame.

The part that is hard for many of us to understand can often be “why won’t you heal me or my family member or friend.”To be honest, I think I struggle with that as well. But even His closest friends, the apostles, had a hard time with healing and miracles and truly trusting up to the end and they spent three years walking next to Him.

When Lee was sick we talked many times about what his life meant. He was often concerned about his legacy and what he was leaving behind. He prayed to accept Christ while he was sick. Although I think he had already done it, he wanted to, again, showing those around him He loved Christ. He began to share his faith with those who came to see him and at those emotional times I saw Lee’s ministry at work. We experienced amazing healing of hearts at his bedside, we saw people walk away changed. We may never know the impact he had on everyone who came to see him or heard about his illness. I believe God used it to His good and Lee’s daughters and friends found a peace in God they may not have found elsewhere.

I know that sometimes God does not answer the questions when I think He should. Sometimes He does not answer them the way I think He should. But I can honestly say that as far back as I can remember all those moments I thought it could never be any worse, got better. The pain of so many things I did not think I could live through has faded. I believe one day I will know the answers to all the questions and it will all have been based on a loving Father’s care for His boy, me.

My mom had her surgery, all the lumps we removed and they believe that for now she will be fine. We were blessed by Gods love in real time, our time. I want to learn to be OK with however He answers or not. I want to learn to listen better and ask for his hand more often. As far as I am concerned, I am fine with less of me and more of Him. I need all the help I can get.

Sowing Seeds

2011-03-08T07:56:00.000-08:00

Miley Cyrus is Missing Something She Won’t Find Where She is Looking

2011-03-06T19:57:00.000-08:00

As I read the news reports on Miley Cyrus and her wild escapades, I was bummed out. I loved the show “Hannah Montana,” and it was on the totally approved list at our house. She was a good kid in that show, and her father was a cool, relaxed guy who seemed to do well with his role as a father.

Every Wednesday morning I meet at 6 a.m. with a group of guys from my church. We are a men’s Bible study with an open format. God takes our conversations all over the place, and recently it was the father and daughter relationship. We talked about all the usual things like when your daughter starts dating, praying with your kids and being a good example to your daughter as a man and a husband to your wife. All key elements to raising good kids, but we know that, don’t we? In our hearts we know it.

So we know it, but why don’t we always do it? Why do we still struggle with creating those moments, those lessons, those memories? Yes, there are super dads, the perfect guys who have good jobs and take wonderful vacations with their kids and have a great wife. The super dads seem to have everything organized, and their kids are wonderful in every way. OK, I admit those guys bug me. I am happy for them, but that life I do not know. The family life I know can be hard and unorganized; we argue, we laugh and love each other through it all.

Dads, a daughter needs to know you care about them. They need to know you think they are precious and important. Single moms, it’s a tough order for you. Girls need to learn from their daddy they are special, but when he is not present, she is missing half the team God intended. You have got to find a male role model, and it won’t be easy. Coach, teacher, instructor, uncle -- it’s tough.

I read an article a couple years back about an organization that provided a girl with a hunting opportunity. They claimed in the article that their organization and the hunting experience forever changed that child’s life. But at the end, on the bottom tucked in the raving reviews on the organization was a quote from the little girl.

“I want to thank my shop teacher for introducing me to this program. I want to thank him for always being there for me and helping me get through high school. I will always be grateful to him.”

Maybe a bit off the exact quote, but what I read in that was that it was the teacher who changed this girl’s life. It was this man who mentored and challenged, loved and cared for his student. It could have been bowling, softball or horses. It was a man who was committed to her and cared about her.

“The Cosby Show” was on the air for eight years from 1984 to 1992. The Huxtables were an affluent family living in the Bronx. The ratings for the popular show soared and dominated TV sitcoms in the ‘80s. Cosby was instrumental in the show’s success in many ways, but most important was his insistence that the show be educational and carry good moral and ethical themes. It is not unusual for America to be drawn to good; it is in our hearts. We want to live in a loving family that cares for us. It is natural. Mommy, daddy -- the names and needs are universal.

I live a life of many mistakes. I use a lot of mulligans daily. I am not always welcomed into my daughter’s life at the age of 16. I get that. I know I could do better in a lot of areas, and it hurts sometimes when I think about the opportunities, the moments I passed up or ignored to speak into her life. But one thing I know as truth. I trust God. I believe that I can push the restart button any day, and if I am true to my heart and God, try again to do better, it will matter. I know she has given her life to God and he will ultimately, long after I am gone, continue to take care of her, father her. That is a huge blessing.

To my precious daughter, I love you. I love who you are and who you are becoming. I love watching you grow and the moments you let me participate in your life. To God, I love you. Watch over her and shepherd her. Instill in her a heart for you. To the hairy-legged little boys out there who will meet my daughter -- she is very special and her expectations are high. She has goals, morals and virtues she lives by, not to mention her big brother is kinda crazy, and although I have never actually castrated a bull or wild boar pig, I have seen it once or twice and I am willing to learn.

Loving People

2011-01-31T14:42:00.000-08:00

Love can be the best or worst emotion you ever experience in our short existence here on the planet Earth. Webster defines love as a feeling of strong attachment induced by that which delights or commands admiration; preeminent kindness or devotion to another; affection; tenderness.

Today for me, the idea, the emotion, the feeling of love, after my love for God, is mostly directed toward people. I have loved a dog dearly. I have loved hunting, fishing the mountains and the beach. I have loved good meals, cold beverages on a hot day and a warm fire in our fireplace. Today, however, I feel and experience it mostly in relationship with people. There are those who love others in ways I have yet to experience, and their testimony of love amazes me.

Years ago my dear friend adopted his grandkids. Their mom wasn’t able to care for them and the dads, well let’s just say they were not available. His wife passed away soon after, which was devastating to him. I have rarely heard a man talk so passionately about the woman he loved, loves, than this friend. I can hear it and see it in his eyes, and he remains that way today many years later. For the last several years he has been raising these grandkids alone.

I met him after watching him at the little league and softball field. He was always there, always with them. He told me once, “I don’t know what I would do without them in my life.” He loves and cares for these kids deeply, and the effort he invests in them inspires me endlessly.

Recently he has been very sick, which, for someone in their late 70s, is never good. They have discovered cancer in his liver and lung and are evaluating the extent of the problem and how best it is going to be treated, if at all. As we talked about his concerns, I see the pain of love in his eyes. He so dearly loves his grandkids and doesn’t know exactly what to do next. He is truly a man of honor and respect, loves with his heart and lives it. He expresses his testimony of love so clearly.

My wife’s best friend’s husband is going into the final stages of pancreatic cancer, and he is beginning to get pretty weak. One morning recently we were with them praying and talking. I did the guy thing and asked what he wanted to make sure got done before and after he died. When the girls stepped away for a moment, he told me he would be fine but he worried about her. His biggest concern was to make sure she was surrounded by friends who would love on her.

His love for her is obvious in his eyes when he talks about her. He has adored her since they met and loves her without compromise. They were not married a year when they found out he was sick; he probably won’t see their second anniversary. Today his heart is in every moment they are awake together, the small things, the quiet moments, the tears and laughter. Their love is obvious to all. Their testimony of love is moving.

Mom called last week and told me her doctor found a spot on her breast. As I write this she just called and told us they found cancer in the early stages. Next week she will get it removed and begin preventative radiation. We don’t know the full extent of it until they do a few other tests, but we are hopeful. We are praying for healing and care for her, comfort and rest.

My mom and I are very close and I can’t process the idea of her not being around right now. I love her dearly. I pray my testimony of love is healing.

Peter wrote in 1 Peter 1:8, “Though you have not seen Him, you love Him; and even though you do not see Him now, you believe in Him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy.”

I want to learn how to do that. I want to learn to love so well you can see it in my eyes. I don’t want to waste a day angry or distracted. I have lived as a hard man for many years, and I understand it was what I thought I had to do to protect myself. The only way I have found I can get even close to being that man is through my relationship with Christ. There I have found relief, forgiveness, courage, humor and a love beyond anything I have ever known. His testimony of love is forever.

Thanks to my wife for loving me through all things; you are my best friend. To my kids, I love you so much it hurts. Mom, you’re my mom, and I love you so much. To those of you I do life with, you know who you are, thank you. I only pray I am the friend or brother you need and are proud of.

February is the month of love. Love on someone today. Share God’s freedom and love. If you want to know more about Him, I am happy to share it. It’s amazing.

As far as chocolates, flowers and a card on Valentine’s Day, of course. I am smart enough to remember the basics and how it all works. The last thing I want is the ole’ pillow and blanket on the couch invitation. That’s just a drag, I remember.

Firebird 400 and Giving Back

2011-01-01T10:32:00.000-08:00

So I love the idea that each day we have the opportunity to push the reset button on our lives. We can wake up and tell someone sorry, or thank you, or love you. It is a rare day I don’t reflect on something I wish I would have done differently. At 51, I am also contemplating what will be the takeaway from my life that folks are going to have.

That all being said, the new year is a really cool time to put a plan into place. By now, most of you have been beaten over the head with new year’s resolution information overload. You have been told to trim the eating, go to the gym, buy a new vehicle and give to the charity of your choice (www.KidsOutdoorZone.org). These are not bad things to do, but sometimes they can be a set-up for a letdown.

A wise old man told me one time, actually I can’t remember if it was a guy and if he was old, but it sounds good -- don’t set giant new year’s goals. Set small goals that are achievable, like, don’t eat a bowl of cereal every night before bed, read a paragraph out of the Bible each day or walk to the end of the street and back once each day, no matter what. When you conquer a small goal and feel successful in achieving that step, you prepare yourself for the next bigger goal.

When I was a teenager, I convinced my then godfather to loan me $1,000 to buy a car. I had found a really cool late ‘60s / early ‘70s Firebird 400. I wish I had that car today; it was the beast. The car was fast as lightening, white with a black interior and if I didn’t have it, the world was going to end. Mr. Fischer, my godfather, had not seen me in who knows how long, maybe since I was born, but I called him. I don’t remember having a job or any reason he would lend me that kind of money, but for reasons I still to this day don’t understand, he did. That was a lot of money in the mid-‘70s.

I got the money, then the car, and it was good times for T.J. I don’t remember going by and showing Mr. Fischer the car or saying thanks. What I remember does not speak well for me; I just ditched him debt and all and went on my way. I had the car a few years and was too irresponsible to care for it. Eventually I sold it and continued on with my lost and self-centered living.

Years later, many years later, the guilt surfaced. It got to a point where I could not continue to ignore the way I treated Mr. Fischer. I made a vow to send him money every month, the same amount, and pay him back. I did just that. Month after month it felt good, really good, to put that check in an envelope and mail it away. Finally I sent the last check and a note to make sure he was OK with it. He sent back the most wonderful letter telling me he was proud of me, that they were struggling and the money was a blessing. Wow.

I am exposing myself quite a bit here telling this story, but it was a new year resolution I made many years back that was doable. It was a huge and wonderful God-honoring, man-honoring, T.J.-honoring resolution from which I gained a lot of pride and heartfelt satisfaction.

I have gone to the gym, saved money, quit smoking, ate healthy and not cussed resolutions in the past. Each one them were met with minimal success. All good things, just not quite time for me to bring them about fully. I do believe in pushing yourself out of the comfort zone, hard work and getting your butt off the couch to accomplish goals, so this is a personal challenge when it boils down to it.

Even the apostles made promises to Jesus right to his face and broke them. “I will never forsake you or deny you,” Peter said. It was just hours later he said three times he did not know that man they called Jesus. Alas, we are forgiven, and Jesus forgave Peter. We all make commitments we can’t keep and promises beyond our ability to fulfill.

Reset is something we should incorporate into our lives daily. We all know it; our heart tells us that. Take something this year and pay it forward, ask forgiveness, walk to the end of the street everyday or begin donating to a worthy cause. By doing something hard, something small, something meaningful or something good, you will not only feel better but it lifts all humanity up a notch and, man, do we need it now. Amen.

Santa, I know Him!

2010-12-23T08:52:00.001-08:00

When I am asked by a child if Santa is real, I always answer the same way: “Do you like it when Santa comes to your house?” When they say, “Yes,” then I complete my answer with, “Then it is good to believe,” and I stand by that. We are a nation that celebrates the birth of Christ with a bit of a twist. Do I think the purpose of Christ’s birth is lost in the commercialization of Christmas? Yea, some.

I remember the anticipation and anxious days, hours, minutes that lead up to the moment when we received permission to come out of our room and see what Santa had left. The Christmas tree revealed in front of us in all its colorful glory, bright and shiny with the gifts piled all around.

Mine was a family of five kids, and mom and dad still did a good job in providing material gifts for each of us. Metal erector sets, Tonka trucks, BB Guns, Barbie and other up-to-date toys. There were the obligatory socks, shirts and underwear, of course, but it was the toys that took center stage in our hearts and minds that morning.

The elements of Santa are so much fun – like writing a letter to him telling him all the things you want. Most kids do not get the part about money and the cost of the things they want. My youngest typically lists thousands of dollars in toys and wants on his list. I am sure I did the same. I think we looked through the Sears catalog at toys and circled the ones we wanted.

Going to see Santa at the mall and the obligatory yearly pictures was always crazy when my kids were small. Some kids get scared and the long lines in the mall can be a drag, but, hey, it’s Santa and he is here.

We love watching the reports on the news showing a map where Santa is in his sleigh and we’ve spent hours looking into the sky for Rudolph’s red nose glowing, sometimes seeing it.

Another favorite tradition at our home is the cookies and carrots. When our kids were still young, there was fur and all types of signs that Santa had come down the chimney. The cookies and carrots were, of course, eaten and napkin used. We even left Santa notes, and he responded back!

I admit to my participation in the gift giving to my wife and kids from jolly ole’ Saint Nick. I remember when my oldest son was just knee-high, he got a drivable battery-operated truck he could not even steer. I have purchased all my kids gifts ahead of their time, over their age bracket. I don’t plan out and bargain shop; I do the male shopping technique -- turn and burn. Go in, get out.

Humorist Dave Barry says, “Once again we find ourselves enmeshed in the holiday season, that very special time of year when we join with our loved ones in sharing centuries-old traditions, such as trying to find a parking space at the mall. We traditionally do this in my family by driving around the parking lot until we see a shopper emerge from the mall, then we follow her, in very much the same spirit as the Three Wise Men, who 2,000 years ago followed a star, week after week, until it led them to a parking space.”

Isn’t it amazing that the whole world is mesmerized by the day Jesus was born? Every language has a Merry Christmas: Russian -- "Pozdrevlyayu s prazdnikom Rozhdestva s Novim Godom," Spanish -- "Feliz Navidad," Japanese -- " Kurisumasu omedeto,” Icelandic -- "Gledileg Jol," French -- "Joyeux Noël," Inupiaq Eskimo (Kotzebue area in northwest Alaska) – “Quvianagli Anaiyyuniqpaliqsi suli Nakuuluni Ukiutqiutiqsi.”

I love all the bells and whistles that are Christmas. I am also passionate about the real meaning of Christmas. I live my life for the King of Kings who was born on Christmas Day. I love the whole story, the details of the human and spiritual struggle that is the birth of Jesus. The blessings of a King so mighty but of a meager beginning in this world. He never stood on a balcony with rings on his fingers and ornate robes dictating personal desires and wants. He came to die for us, he gave his life for you and me.

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?” ~ Dr. Seuss

Love on others this Christmas and God bless,

TJ Greaney

Gotta Love My Mom

2010-11-04T19:37:00.000-07:00

I love my mom. She has endured and prevailed all her life. She was raised in a hard working family as an only daughter. She endured the hardships of life with five kids, a fractured home and brought it back together salvaging the home and now creating grandma and grandpa’s house. The place everyone can call home.

My papa, (Mom’s dad), used to own a gas station across the street from their small home in rural Illinois. Back then it was full-service and oil changes. My papa was an honorable man who worked hard. Meme (Mom’s mom) worked for the phone company for 50 years. She worked all shifts and times. Back in those days, every call was handled and routed.

Mom was active in school growing up. A popular beauty, she was kept busy in clubs and school activities. But busy was relative; she also spent a lot of time reading, teaching herself how to make her own clothes and chores around the house. One of her weekly chores was using a rotary push mower to cut the grass each Saturday. Can you see a kid today doing that -- a girl, nonetheless?

Mom also learned the art, the gift, of cooking. She watched her grandparents and her mom make and bake all the foods served at their home. Homemade breads, canning, stews and more were a daily responsibility, and she excelled.

Meme’s house had a cherry tree in the back, apple trees on the side, and everyone had vegetables gardens. Nothing was ever taken for granted and the words disposable or biodegradable were yet to be intertwined into the common vocabulary. Empty jars were collected and used for storage or as drinking glasses. Grocery bags were paper and used for lining gardens or collecting compost. Leftovers were eaten before they went bad or used and incorporated into the next day’s meal. It was a green society.

Growing up, I never went hungry. Even in the hard times mom would bake or put together a casserole that would melt in your mouth and fill up your tummy. I remember for breakfast or snack sometimes she would let us have white bread, sugar and milk cereal. That was a glorious treat, and the more sugar the better – the milk at the end was heaven sent. She also made a bread pudding from stale bread, baked and served with a creamy sauce over the top that was to die for.

Special days like Sunday were good food days. The smells of the meal to come filled the house and the yard. A pot roast or Irish stew made for a complete day. Back then very little was ready to bake or heat and serve. Handmade dough rising in the kitchen, frying chicken in the cast iron skillet, potato salads and coleslaws were creamy and hearty.

To this day, my mom cooks meals each day, prepares sauces and breads, special salads and desserts. I love it when we visit and there is a pan of orange peel bread and banana nut bread sitting out the whole time. You can walk by her kitchen without slowing down for a snack grab or indulgence. She still makes jalapeño jelly that is to die for and cans all types of fruits and vegetables.

Mom has written two books. The first one is “Pioneer Living,” where she talks all about the lifestyle and hardships of the pioneers. Her second book, however, may be my favorite; it is her home-style cook book. In it she divulges all of her recipes and tips. This book, in some ways, is the lifeblood, the legacy, the family traditions from her kitchen. I love that she has taken the time to collect and categorize the foods we grew up eating in a way we can now share with our kids and their kids for generations.

All in all, food can be a powerful thing. Proposals for marriage, family talks, laughs and tears all come while sharing food with each other. The Bible has all kinds of references to food from front to back. Jesus used fish, wine and bread a lot. He was especially fond of it when He was teaching and in quiet intimate moments with His best friends.

This year when you are enjoying the bounty of food before you at Thanksgiving, think about the grace that has been given us to live in such an amazing country. Spend a quiet moment giving thanks to God for what we sometimes take for granted. Make a few sandwiches up from the leftovers and go find someone in need or, better yet, invite some folks over to enjoy the time with you.

We are planning our trip to grandma’s house right now, the warm enticing aroma of her kitchen and the fresh sweet treats call us back. In the meantime, I think I will make her bread pudding with an extra batch of sauce; it is a comfort food and we all need to be comforted every now and then. Thanks mom.

See every copy of Country Line Magazine for one of Shirley’s best recipes or e-mail her at sbaker5@bellsouth.net.

Jokes, Candy and the Fall

2010-10-03T21:54:00.000-07:00

Ah yes, the cool breeze out of the north this morning was perfect. I have been waiting for the fall weather to arrive. This is my favorite time of year.

The month of October includes so many different elements and events. The stores are putting up Christmas and Thanksgiving decorations, archery starts for deer and dove season is slowing down. The kids are excited with the holidays coming and Halloween is just around the corner. Yes, this is a good time of year.

Halloween is different at our house today than it was early on. We still do some of the candy gathering, the kids love it and it is a chance for Sandra and I to have a nice walk. We usually go to another neighborhood than ours; ours is a dead-end street with a dozen houses, so the take has been historically slim for the kids. We have friends in great neighborhoods where almost every house participates with gusto -- that is where we like to go.

I don’t care if they get a bunch of candy, dress up in a creative costume and have fun. We have friends who don’t let their kids do Halloween -- no problem for me. There are lots of options as well: harvest festivals, candy carnivals, parties at church. Great stuff and great options and we have been known to do them all.

Practical jokes have always been a part of Halloween night as well. They range from funny to horrific. I am no fan of anything that hurts or damages others’ body or property. Being an FFA parent, I now also have to do a shift at the FFA barn on Halloween. There have been random acts of violence on animals around the country at FFA barns. People blame black cults, witches and satanic groups for these horrific events and some may be, but I think most of it is kids who are, for lack of a better description, screwed up.

My daughter and some of her friends have a series of practical jokes going among themselves. One of the jokes was on her while we were away for summer vacation. Her pickup truck was left in our driveway and a couple of the instigators completely covered her truck with “sticky notes.” Pink, blue, yellow squares covered the whole vehicle; it was fantastic. The other really good one is a bit more serious. They put zip ties on the crank shaft so when the unsuspecting driver drives, they slap against the under part of the car and it sounds like something is seriously wrong. Pretty good one.

The good Lord loves to joke with us and bless us. He joked around back when he was here in the flesh, and I paraphrase, “You ding-dongs, why do you worry about cleaning out your cup and a tiny gnat when you turn around and swallow a camel?” I bet there was also some kids who figured out sticky scrolls on a camel or leather zippy strips on a chariot axel. God jokes with me.

Recently I was trying to fit a landscape timer into an open spot. I only had one piece left and as I walked across the yard to get it, I talked with him. I asked him if he would just make it the perfect size so I could be done with the yard work. I laughed as I set it in place; it was, to the millimeter, perfect. I love those times with him.

Fall and the holiday season will get a lot of folks to start thinking about family and giving, what life is about and their legacy. That is a good thing. Know that God is not a collector of marks against you. He does not keep track of what we do wrong. God is a loving Father who only wants to love on us and care for us. He wants us to learn and do better, just like a loving earthly father would.

Take time this fall to love on someone who needs it. If you feel so moved, donate to our youth ministry, www.kidsoutdoorzone.org. We are planning fall hunting outings for boys who don’t have dads, and we could use the support. Go visit your family, heal a riff that may be there. Eat some candy, laugh, get out of your world and help someone else. If you know of a good, safe, clean practical joke, e-mail it to me. I like to have a little something in my pocket in case I need to “pass it on,” if you know what I mean.

Picture: Taylor’s “sticky note truck”, courtesy of Josh and the one guy who is always around when the jokes go down -- Dylan.

Today is Our Day of Destiny

2010-09-19T14:31:00.000-07:00

Ronald Regan once said, “You and I have a rendezvous with destiny. We will reserve for our children this, the last best hope of man on earth, or we will sentence them to take the first step into a thousand years of darkness. If we fail, at least let our children and our children's children will say of us we justified our brief moment here. We did all that could be done.”

Today I believe we are facing that rendezvous with destiny, we are face to face with the providence of our children’s future, our grandchildren’s future, the future of America as you and I know it today.

This country was built on our self sacrifice, hard work, sweat, ingenuity, compassion, commitment and drive. We are the ones who get up each day and fight the fight, live life in this community. We shop at the grocery, pay an electric bill, buy fuel for our cars and trucks, sit in PTA meetings, boy scout meetings and little league games. We are the ones who are unemployed, sick or young and just starting out. We tithe to our churches and donate to the causes we hold dear. We pinch pennies and try hard to make ends meet. This is our life.

Hard work yesterday, today and tomorrow should not be in vain. Our wages and savings should not be taxed or mortgaged to the backscratchers and special interests who have taken over Washington. If we allow this to continue there will be a financial obligation upon our children and their children and their children. It will one day create a burden so heavy that they will never enjoy the life, freedoms and beauty of the America we love so dearly today.

They will live in a society where it doesn’t matter if you get up early or stay late doing more than the employee next to them who comes in late each day and leaves early. There won’t be rewards for those who sacrifice and give more or castigation for those who abuse and choose not to perform with excellence or even competence.

Yes there will always be those who break out of the box, create, explore, build and excel because we are America and that is what we do. But will we be wounded to a point where recovery from generations of a demoralized and liberal society who expects to be taken care of in a mother state be irreversible?

Never allow the true history of this great nation to be transformed. That first and foremost we are called to be faithful servants to God. That there are many who have and are fighting today for the mighty and better cause motivated by their love for this God blessed land, their fellow American and their families.

We have to stand together and lift each other up. We have to speak out and speak up. We have to mentor and help and give back, hands on.

I refuse to be one of those who wakes one morning knowing that I did not rise up, I did not speak up, that I did not take a stand. That I allowed those who are hungry to go without when I had food or children to be abandoned when I have a home they could come to. I won’t lay down and wait to be cared for or expect others to care for those I am charged by God to care for. I will work hard to be an example, a mentor, a friend who can be trusted to serve, assist and help when called on.

To those who get up each day and pastor our families, protect us from thieves, are fighting terrorism, feed the hungry at the soup kitchen, put out our fires and so many others, thank you. Thank you Lord for these mighty warriors for this country who because of them I can get up and live the dream America is today. I will stand alongside them to my last dying breath fighting for right and good by person or pen.

We are obligated by those who have died for this dream, this vision we call America. Does anybody remember Sept. 11th when the terrorist attacked us in New York? Remember the way we all came together and our country was united? I do. “Let’s Roll.”

School Light

2010-08-23T07:39:00.000-07:00

Lord I ask you to pour out over our schools today. I pray blessings on the buildings and roofs and windows. That the corners are softened and the windows are bright and Your light shines in.

I pray over the maintenance staff and their support teams. That they are happy and kind to our children. That our children are kind to them. That they are blessed from the work they do to support our children.

I pray over the teachers. That they are overcome by You Holy Spirit and that they feel a shift in how they think of You. That they leave anything that is dark or not of you at their home. That they are truly hungry to be the leaders of this generation in knowledge and health. That You find a way to use the interaction of our children and these teachers that can only be described as miraculous and amazing from You.

And Lord I pray over all the children. I pray that the ones who know You are bold and unafraid. That Your light shines from them in an amazing and undeniable way. Lord protect them from the evil one, from influences and dark places. Show them the times they need to turn or walk away. Give them strength to stand strong and make wise decisions.

And Lord, thank you for schools. Thanks for getting the kids out of the house for a while so we can get something done.... thanks God!

A/C and Heat - Don't Talk to Me!

2010-08-03T16:58:00.000-07:00

In the winter we complain about the cold, and in the summer we complain about the heat. I try to convince myself that I love all the sharp winds of the north and the warm dry breeze from the south, but there is a lot to be said for the comforts of the modern home. However, the direction God has me going with the Kids Outdoor Zone Youth Adventure Ministry, I don’t spend a lot of time cuddled up inside.

I had a friend tell me the other day that society, in his opinion, began to degenerate when air conditioning was created. He believes that when people began to stay inside to be cool, we became detached from each other and thus began societal detachment (I just made that word up but I think it works). People quit sitting on the porch, taking slow walks, enjoying each other as neighbors in many ways.

I think societal detachment happens in a lot of areas. Next time you’re driving in your car, look and see how many folks are driving alone. Our cars are very sacred in this country. I know for me that my truck, in many ways, is a safe haven when I am traveling or even when I need to think about something important. The Ipod is another way we detach. You don’t interrupt folks or try to spark up a conversation with someone who has their earphones in.

For me, I get frustrated when I am talking to someone who pulls out their phone and reads a text message. Can I just say to them right now that is totally not cool and I have been known to walk away? Look at all the kids walking around with a phone right in front of them typing away the whole time you watch them. Not only are they not learning to communicate verbally but they are also doing it in a non-expressive way. They can end a relationship, beat another kid down and laugh all in symbols and letters. And it can still hurt or make them feel good about themselves.

Does anyone remember when we used to call each other and talk for hours? Now you Facebook them, text them and e-mail them a long note without punctuation or correct grammar. Is there a kid out there under 20 who has ever written a letter to someone with paper and pencil today? I am thinking a bar that serves oxygen, plays funky music and has pens and tablets of paper might work. Call them Twain bars after Mark Twain, the author, remember him? Make it cool to write letters. I would go, but then I am old.

What about reading? I think the art of reading is waning in the younger generation. My friend Ben Rehder, an author, was doing a trade show once with me, and there were kids everywhere. When they would come up to his table and ask what he had for them he would say, “Books, kids. Look, you can read them.” They would run off immediately because he had nothing free to offer, and, for the most part, I don’t think mystery novels about the outdoors interested them much. But then, not reading isn’t just a kid thing; most adults are not readers -- I mean book readers. But I digress.

There is a day we have recognized as National Get Out of Your House Day, or National Sit In Your Yard Day – something like that and it works to get some people outside and meet their neighbors. That can only be counted as a plus, but will we ever really have the opportunities to befriend those crossing our living areas again?

The Lord calls us to share the Good News of his gift. It happens in many ways, but human to human connection, emotional and heartfelt, is most powerful. He wants us to know those around us, care for them, include them in our life story.

I Facebook, I text, I use my cell phone when I shouldn’t, I am imperfect for sure. I do, however, strive to do better. This summer, this August, take the time to get outside and enjoy your family, meet a neighbor or a few of them. Take your family on an overnight camping trip or a ride to the lake for the day. The key will be to leave the electronics behind, which that includes the kids’ stuff. Turn off the world beyond your immediate reach and watch how God will move to speak to you and your family. I bet you God will put someone into your life that day who will be amazing and awe-inspiring. You wait and see! Then e-mail me how the day went. I would love to hear the stories.

Random Rocket Men

2010-07-29T09:28:00.000-07:00

Science has never been one of my gifts. I love the science channels on television and all types of smart inventions and ideas. I was talking with a group of young teenage boys recently, and they were telling me all about video games and gaming systems. They were explaining new gear that has been created or are coming out that makes the video games more interactive. One of the ones I thought quirky was a helmet and suit you put on that popped you on the head or body when you were struck by another gamer’s virtual bullets during the game. It sounded to me like it would hurt.

I shared with them that back in my days, in the ‘60s and ‘70s, the show “Star Trek” had a room on the ship that you could program to be any environment you want and then enter the room and be in the place you created. On the beach, in the mountains or at an event, it was all just a few keyboard strokes away. They didn’t know the show, but they thought that that idea was not far from reality and I have to say I think they might be right, virtually.

Like I said I have never been good at science. I remember once when I had signed up for a science fair at school. I waited until the morning of the event, got up early and went out in the garage. I took some scrap wood, nailed some plants from the yard on it and wrote edible and non-edible. I somehow snuck it into the fair and forgot about it until later that day when my class was to go see the projects. I was horrified, thinking it was going to be seen and I would look like the total loser I was that day. Much to my surprise, it was gone. I never asked about it again and never heard what had happened. Obviously someone learned a great lesson of science and ate the edible stuff, discarded the non-edible poisonous stuff and threw away the debris. Good science? I don’t think so. A lesson learned? Somewhat.

I did love model rocketry when I was young and to this day enjoy a good rocket launch. I grew up in Nassau Bay, Texas, and the Apollo astronauts’ kids were my friends.

My youngest son, Jon-Michael, and his pal, Luke, have taken model rocketry to the next level. Recently they began a series of rocket launches with a slight twist. They are launching things.
The first launch was a car. It never went up; it just kind of went sideways then burned up. To some, it may be considered a failed launch. To them, it was totally cool. The next launch was a vertical success. They launched a Barbie doll strapped to a rocket. It went really high, and, except for the parachute malfunction, it was flawless. That went so well they figured that, heck, maybe if they taped her arms facing up hands together, she might be aerodynamic and fly. They strapped a giant D-something engine on her and launched her away. Fantastically, she went really high and came back to earth really fast.

I feel like that Barbie rocket on some days. I have a really wonderful encounter with God one moment and then find myself in a ditch the next. My desire today is to try and live in the high parts, the parts where I feel I am in His presence, doing His will. I hate it when someone says you have to accept the ups and downs in life. My friend Jimmy told me once he was at a place in his life where he accepted things to just be God’s will or His plan. He said, “You get a flat, it keeps you stranded for a while and you get mad, when maybe He was keeping you safe from an accident you may have otherwise had.”

I don’t know yet how to live today without an encounter with the world and not get drug into the ups and downs. I like the big G rocket engine on my back, and I am learning to go to God more often, learn to talk to Him before, during and after I do life launch each moment of the day. I also find solace and answers to my life science questions in the book of direction, encouragement, love and life -- the Bible.

Good science for me today is mixing the right ingredients for a barbecue rub or a homemade salsa. My days of mixing salt peter, sulfur and charcoal together creating smoking blobs of stink are long since over. Good science for me today also seems to include cash donations to the rocket guys’ engine fund so they can continue their launching operation and get it on their Web site for scientific documentation.

You ask what kind of science is that crazy Barbie rocket stuff? Well as a matter of fact, that is rocket science in its purest form.

Check out the boys’ launches under Random Rocket Men on Youtube …cool.

Early Mornings, Naps and Martha Stewart

2010-06-02T07:55:00.000-07:00

I have always been an early riser. I love the mornings when few folks are out. The mornings are also the coolest time of the day, and if the days are hot, I choose to start early and end early on outside projects. In the mornings, before anyone is up at our house and the world begins to spin, I love the smell of the coffee and quiet moments on the front porch. The older I get, the longer it takes my brain to begin functioning correctly, so I need a few minutes.

Some of my best memories have come around a mid-day nap when I have been up early. Take elk hunting, for example. I hike way up into the timber or along a ridge, find a comfortable tree or a dead fall to lean against and doze, nodding in and out. That time being quiet and just sitting there has provided many a shot at unsuspecting elk. I remember once waking, standing up and being in the middle of a herd of them. Crazy.

Our cat likes to nap a lot, and I know few earthly creatures that are as calm and cool as Pumpkin. Pumpkin was an old feral stray that, over the years, has conned his way into a regular feeding bowl and warm comforts during the winter months. I usually find him tucked away napping or watching his cat world go by. I have seen him pounce on other cats coming in the yard, and he kicks tail on them. He doesn’t want anyone coming in on his gig. But, mostly, he is calm, seemingly going from one objective to the next or resting.

I like a breeze when I am napping, too. I love the sound of the wind through the trees, the song of the wind chimes, the breeze crossing through the house. The air seems cleaner when it is moving, too -- no science behind that observation, just a personal thought.

I saw where Barbara Jordan was once quoted as saying, “Think what a better world it would be if about 3 o’clock, the whole world just had a few cookies, a glass of milk and took a nap.” How can you not like that? Who would not like that in their day-timer every day?

If you really struggle with naps, just consider what Martha Stewart was once quoted as saying, “I catnap now and then, but I think while I nap, so it’s not a waste of time.” That’s it -- nap and think at the same time. I may think best when I nap.

The Mexican culture has it figured out -- siesta. They work hard until it gets hot, then they find a shade tree and nap for a few hours; revitalized, they return to work and finish the day. Long haul drivers say when they get tired, they stop on the side of the road and nap for a few minutes. It refreshes them so they can get on with their work.

I know some folks who just can’t nap or slow down during the day. That is fine. My wife, forget it, she is non-stop all day. I don’t know where the energy comes from, but it wears me out just writing about it and I might have to take a quick nap right here and now.

Truthfully, I have said it before, it is these moments and ones like it when I best communicate with God -- quiet, restful, contemplative times. He is always there; I just don’t always think about Him being there. I guess maybe I take Him for granted. Maybe I just get moving so fast that I forget to talk with Him about things. When I can rest, when I can slow down and be still, I notice Him there with me and I do better.

Yes, there are times you have to mow the world down, push through when you are tired to get something done. Yes, some people can be slothful and wait for the world to hand them something or fill their needs. I am not talking about that.

I am thinking we might be better off if we were more like Pumpkin, maybe a Mexican Pumpkin. Work hard and pay attention to what is going on around us. Take some time each day to slow down and make sure life and the things important to us are not slipping by. I, for one, am going to try my best to take time each day to check in with God, try to keep Him closer, to listen when He whispers and not wait for Him to be yelling, “Hey knuckle head, I am talking to you!”

I will not waste another minute when I get a chance to nap, either. I am going to be thinking the whole time, just like Martha. Planning meals, considering drapes for the foyer and cool new craft ideas will be my objective, and I vow to stay napping until I figure out that crazy tomato plant thing I saw on TV that grows upside down.

Thinking, napping and quiet time with God -- perfect!

The War at Home - Our Soldier.

2010-05-31T05:19:00.000-07:00

Two years ago my nephew left for the war in Iraq. This is what I blogged and seems appropriate to rerun it today.

Monday, October 20, 2008

The War at Home

Jason has been a warrior his whole life. I have heard stories of his childhood obsession playing with green army men for years. He would play for hours in his room or in the yard strategizing and destroying the enemy. The most recent story I heard was when his soldiers would die, he would bury them then forget where and they would be lost.“I didn’t just dig a hole and stick them in it; I had a service and all. I did it right,” he explained. I can tell you somewhere in south Austin, buried in the yard of his childhood home, are possibly thousands of small green army men. The graveyard.

It seems that some people know their destiny early. They, I believe, are the lucky ones. They are driven to be whom they know they are. After high school Jason went straight into the National Guard. A week or two into it he called home and wanted out. His mom and I talked and she decided to put the kibosh on his leaving.“No, you don’t want to regret this,” she coaxed him. He knew in his heart she was right. He completed the time with honors.Not long after returning from his National Guard training and duties he was milling around trying to figure out what he was going to do next. Police work became his next objective and he started his education at cop school. Upon graduation he found a position in a small town east of Austin and went to work. Police work was good to Jason.

He shared story after story of his days and nights on the job. He loved his work and you could hear it in every word. As he began his emersion into police work, each month he would report for National Guard duties. Then came 9/11. The world was thrown into frenzy. Americans raised their hands over their hearts and were proud to be Americans as we took on the terrorist of our world. They had attacked us all around the world and we were detached, but now they were in our country and everyone felt the heartache and patriotism. We are Americans and this is our country and that cannot happen here. Jason was standing tall ready to go should they call.

Eventually he moved to a bigger city and a new position in their police department. There he had drug duty and sting operations -- he loved all that. He always said, “I want to be in the tough part of the city – the rough side.” He usually was. After years of weekends and summer training Jason’s time with the National Guard was coming to an end. He had never been called up to fight in Iraq, some don’t. He was well into his new job and had gotten married and had a newborn baby girl. Everything was in place. Except for one thing -- he had to decide, do I re”up” with the guard or not.

Resigning with the guard meant a lot of things. It meant he would be able to continue to work on the pension and other rewards he would eventually receive when he completed his service. But it also meant he was probably going to go to Iraq for a period of time, most likely a year or more. A decision that meant leaving his wife, new baby daughter and other family. It meant months of boot camp style training with long days and short nights.We had long talks about the pros and cons of going to Iraq and the chances he would take. He went to council with others and prayed about it with his wife. When he told me he had decided to go and that they had a date for him to leave, I was mad. How, why, why now with the baby?

But I know why Jason went; I know why he is there. He is there because since he was little boy, he has been preparing to be an American soldier. He is there because deep inside Jason, ingrained in this young man with everything going for him, is the desire to serve his country. He is old school patriotic. He is willing to give his life so others may be spared the tragedy of 9/11 or something even more horrific. He is, like so many of our American soldiers, committed to the calling of God and country.

Don’t tell me American is anything less than great. Don’t put our president or our soldiers down in front of me. I stand next to my nephew who is headed to Iraq; I am humbled by his bravery, his honor of country, his willingness to die to protect his nieces and nephews. He is willing to sacrifice all he has for you and me. He is a man. I pray a legion of angels will protect him as he goes forward and that God will use him to minister to others in His great commission.

We can agree to disagree here in America and not have our hands cut off, our families killed, our daughters beaten and raped because of the freedom our soldiers have sacrificed for. So, tell me, what are you doing?

***Update: Jason, his two daughters and wife are good, living in Victoria, Texas and continues his police work and National Guard service.

Survival Camp

2010-05-24T09:22:00.000-07:00

With Kids Outdoor Zone youth adventure ministry Jesus has and still does come alongside us time and time again. He loves on us and cares for us. He carries the yoke we struggle with and talks to us in those still quiet moments encouraging g us and comforting us.

Over the last few months we have learned to “press in,” to strive for God’s love and direction in our lives and KOZ. We are learning a lot about preparing our hearts and our intentions before acting on behalf of KOZ. He showed us this weekend that He is there and that He loves that we love Him and are coming to Him for cover and direction.

This Friday we left Austin with eight boys, one guide in training and three men who have a heart for the Lord and KOZ.

Saturday was spent teaching survival skills to the boys as if they were stranded from a plane wreck. They learned about finding water and purifying it. They were taught how to start a fire and create an SOS. They build debris huts and learned how to select the right spot to build shelter. They caught fish with survival tools and ate them. They all did a great job.

We love all the guy activities. It gets hot, we get tired and hungry but we bond together during these lessons. This trip was no different than ones we have done in the past except that, the weeks leading up to this trip our leaders, prayer warriors and intercessors cried out for Jesus to be with us, to heal the boys who were coming, to love on them. To show us how to love them, care for them, lead them to Him.

Saturday evening started off tense with a lot of the boys tired and hot. That can be fuel for anger, frustration and a mean spirit. The talk about the campfire was all but loving and caring. One of the leaders called for a time of quiet reflection and for all the boys to separate for a period of time. They were not allowed to talk or be together, they spread about the pasture, valley and creek side.

When they returned we pressed in. We began to talk about where they were in their walk with the Lord. That is when He came. The Holy Spirit filled the valley, the pasture, the camp ground, the area about the camp fire and the boys. Over the next period of time they shared their hearts and heart breaks, their love for family and worries. We wept and hugged and cried more. This was one of the most powerful times with God many of us had ever experienced. The wounded began healing, the lost accepted His direction and caring. Eternal life changing moments flowed from the 10-year-old to the 17-year-old. Beautiful words and emotions. By the end of the time together we were exhausted and sleep came easy.

Sunday morning was beautiful and a cool breeze crossed the valley. We awoke to find the Lord was not finished with us. One young man with a wounded eye from months before woke in severe discomfort. His eye was red and swollen and he could not keep it open. A leader asked if he could pray healing over him and as he did the Lord told him to press in. He prayed over and over and over pressing in as the boys eye got better, and better and then, like the man on the road to Jerico, his eye healed. Healed. A physical healing. A wounded eye from a wounded boy crying for the Lord to help him, heal him, be with him. It was nothing less that miraculous.

After breakfast the boys made their way to the creek. The cool waters were a comfort in the heat the day before and on this Sunday morning they became a place of healing and commitment to live a life for the Lord. Four boys accepted the eternal gift of life with our Lord in front of their peers. The time was joyous and filled with cheering and laughter. A true day of glory for the Lord.

The blind man took up his garments and followed Jesus after he was healed. Lord we pray these boys, mentors and leaders hunger to follow you each moment. It was not a prayer that Jesus prayed, it was the blind man’s trust that the Lord would heal him that healed him. Lord thank you for the boys who inspired faith this weekend. Thank you for their hearts of innocence and joy. Thank you for filling us with the Holy Spirit and His guidance. Lord thank you for those who cover us in prayer and stand beside us when we waver or feel down. Holy Spirit use us, tool our hearts into servant hearts that please You.

The survival skills for the boys at this camp were well received and the one boy who has done Marine Corps training summer camp said it was awesome and he learned a lot. As far as us leaders, we changed the name from Survival Camp to God Camp. He provided the boys with survival tools they can use for eternity and used the leaders along the way. We, again, found He provides us with pure fresh living water, burning fire, comforting safe shelter and food for life. The best survival tools we could ever need and no devastating crash required.

Amen!

The Summer Vacation

2010-05-04T08:42:00.000-07:00

I have lived the movie “Vacation” with Clark Griswold (Chevy Chase). The crazy adventures and slapstick humor are off the wall but just barely different from my experiences growing up and some of those we experience at our house today.

My dad built the ultimate camping trailer when we were kids. It had compartments for every item from the tent and coffeepot to the Coleman stove. It was a rolling shadow box of camping gear that pulled behind our family station wagon.

We would travel each summer to a different destination mapped out on our free Shell gasoline station map and handy camper guide. Mom had the check-off list for everything we needed. We travelled to the Grand Canyon, Petrified Forest and Yellow Stone. It was there in these national treasures we had our National Lampoon moments.

There was the time we were camping when, in the middle of the night, my sister needed to go to the bathroom. I was charged with walking her to the public restroom. Just as we began to leave, out of our camping spot a large black bear walked in front of us. She screamed and we both ran back into the tent scared. We watched out the tent window as the bear moved from camping area to camping area, destroying ice chests and picnic baskets. On another night, in the middle of the night, a bear chased a small squirrel up and over our tent. My mom used hairspray to coat the bear paw prints that went up the side of the tent just above where my brothers, sisters and I slept.

Other wacky, crazy events from my childhood summer vacations include once, while horseback riding in the mountains, my horse spooked, broke from the pack and bolted across a field, stopping at a fence and launching me from the saddle. Another adventure ended in disaster when I tried a shortcut down a steep cliff face where I lost my footing, slid and rolled to the bottom. My hands were cut up and my body bruised. I remember camping up on a mountain side once and watching a tornado in the valley below. I was frightened and kept asking my parents what we would do if it came after us. They explained we would just lay in a ditch, but that it would not come up the mountain. It didn’t. I did, however, become mindful of ditches at every camping area thereafter.

My kids are creating their own vacation memories. Jon–Michael remembers when we were passing through north Texas and entered the town of Dumas, Texas. He thinks “Dumas” is funny. He also tells of the time we were driving along a highway in Colorado when we passed two guys in Ninja suits with a sign that read “Free Ninja Hugs.” My daughter on the other hand remembers horses and young cowboy wranglers at the dude ranch and surf camp instructors -- uggg.

Jesus had a wacky vacation when He was young. His family went to celebrate the Passover, a must back then, and when his family was leaving, that nutty, crazy kid Jesus, then 12, slipped off and his parents left without Him. They each thought the other one knew where He was -- that He was with His buddies chasing camels or something. When they realized He was not with them, they had to go all the way back to town. They finally tracked Him down inside a temple teaching the adults.

That, for Joseph and Mary, was the moment they realized Jesus was going to be leaving their care soon. They realized that their time parenting Him was coming to a close and the intimate childhood moments and time together was to be savored.

The memories of time together, be it summer vacations or family night at home watching a movie, are precious moments etched in our hearts and, in many ways, make us who we are. I am sure those camping adventures as a young boy are a big part of why I am an outdoor writer and love outdoor adventure.

A favorite quote from “Vacation” -- Clark: “Hey, hey, easy kids. Everybody in the car. Boat leaves in two minutes... or perhaps you don't want to see the second largest ball of twine on the face of the earth, which is only four short hours away?”

This summer I am taking my family somewhere special. I haven’t got all the details worked out yet, but I have ordered a really good first aid kit, emergency radio, topographical map showing all the ditches in the area and a large bottle of Tylenol. You need to be prepared.

God bless, TJ

A Name Means Something

2010-03-31T18:36:00.000-07:00

I was born into a Catholic family in 1959. From what I can tell it was a pretty standard family of that day. Five kids, mom stayed home and dad worked. I was the second of the five -- three boys, two girls. Brother, me, sister, brother, sister. We, for the most part, also carry the traditional Catholic names and names of our forefathers, grandmothers and saints.

I am Thomas Joseph. My grandfather and great-grandfather carried the same name. The family history is a checkered past with stories of troubled lives and mysterious happenings. Some of the stories have never been confirmed and probably won’t. Still, nothing unusual for the times, I don’t think.

Recently, I thought about my name and the apostle Thomas. Thomas was one of Jesus’ 12 favored followers. He was lesser known and, like many of the others, had a different name, Didymus, before Jesus came along. Jesus liked to change their names.

I grew up as Tom. Mom and dad called me Tom Tom when I was good and Thomas Joseph when I wasn’t. I heard the latter one named frequently as I got older.

Names back in the old country were many times given to a person for whom they were or would be. Bob Carpenter was a woodworker, John Smith, a blacksmith, Betty Crocker, a cook. Names in the new world did not always follow that trend; they created tough names like Buck, Wyatt, Jessie and Hop-a-Long.

Thomas is a pretty common name. It is very popular in England, Australia and Canada. It has over 24 spellings and pronunciations --, Tam, Tamas, Tamhas, Thom, Thoma, Thomason, Thomson, Thompson, Tom, Tomas, Tomaso, Tomasso, Tomasz, Tome, Tomek to name a few. Each one carries a little different history but, for the most part, ends up back to the doubting, yet zealous, apostle.

I believe that kids can take on their names, become a namesake. Say a doubting Thomas might be a guy who is always in trouble or a bit of a misbehaver but has a great heart and the sweetest disposition. He is, can be, a bit of a skeptic and learn a lot of things the hard way. He is probably really cute and had great hair, as a child anyway.

You have names that have got to be bad choices and influence those who carry them. Vader Blauwbaard was convicted of murder and rape, Adolph Hitler, hello, bad choice. Pedro Rodrigues Filho convicted of 70 murders and Gwendolyn Graham who murdered five elderly nursing home residents and claimed to have killed another. My favorite, Thomas Ketchum, known as Black Jack Ketchum, a cowboy and cattle driver who later turned to a life of crime. Just teasing about these names -- lots of great folks have the name Vader and Adolph.

I do believe we speak into our children who they are at a young age. If you tell them they are bad, stupid or are never going to amount to anything, guess what -- you’re speaking it over them. Parents, the most important people in the world to them, telling them they are not worthy of great things can be devastating.

Thank God we have a loving Father who does not care about any of those things you may have been told as a child. Thank goodness He loves us no matter what and teaches us how to forgive. Mark 11:25 says: “And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins."

As a Thomas, I did pick up the craft of carpentry and tend to be a skeptic and doubter sometimes. I have never robbed a bank but do like the way of the cowboy. I love the Lord and know I have been forgiven; I have forgiven others. Let April, the beginning of spring, be the beginning of your new life in Him. It is not who someone says or said you are, it is who you can be.

God bless,

TJ Greaney

The Pyromaniac - Burn Baby Burn

2010-03-01T22:15:00.000-08:00

I remember when I was young I had a thing with fire. I made a lot of bad decisions with fire. When I was about 8, my father built us a life-size, full out playhouse. It had doors, windows, rafters and shingles on the roof. It was truly a miniature house. He was a great carpenter.

You can guess where this is going. One morning I climbed into the rafters and held a match to the wooden roof. I watched it as it began to catch on fire. By the time I ran and got a dog bowl full of water, it was too late – it took my dad, a hose and a fireman to put it out. My tailbone got a lashing that day.

A few years later I stood over a five-gallon bucket of water, poured gas on top and dropped a match in. The explosion burned my face and all my eyebrows off. I thought the water would minimize the effects of the gas -- not true.

Today I enjoy my fires contained in the fireplace at my home, carefully crafted and screened. I also enjoy a good fire pit at the ranch. I can sit and watch what has been called “Texas TV,” (a burning fire pit outdoors) for hours. There is something peaceful and calming about sitting there watching the flames and colors, the warmth and the sounds.

When I went to Colorado last November to the Wild at Heart conference with John Eldredge, I was again drawn into the flames. It was not a physical burning flame that consumes playhouses and five-gallon buckets, not even logs of cedar or oak. It was a burning flame inside me to be a better man. To come to know Christ in a deeper and more personal way. It is a fire I hungered for a long time.

It seems most of us today are always in a hurry and few of us fan the flames of our passions. Even fewer folks listen to the quiet talk of our hearts or when God speaks to us. Oh, we try to when someone gets hurt or we are in trouble, and I believe God listens to us then, but what about in between?

Our country after 9-11 is a perfect example. The flames of patriotism and a search for God in our lives was evident by the masses heading into churches and giving financially to help organizations. Eventually that all faded and we returned to the hustle and bustle, the business of our lives. God, well He will be there when I need to chat with Him, on my terms, right?

What I want to do is live in the peace and comfort knowing God, a loving Father, cares about me. I want to please Him in who I am and what my life means. The love of a father is an intricate part of knowing love, feeling comforted, feeling safe, feeling OK. When I was on the mountain, I learned a lot about it. I learned more about God as my Father and how important that love is to me and for me.

The fire that I now crave is the one God placed on my heart to know him. It is a deep and burning flame that warms me and fills me. Yes, it does burn down and I have to intentionally and purposefully stoke it. The difference is that I want to know it more; I want it to burn in me.

When I burned down the playhouse, I remember being confused as to why I did it. I also remember when I was looking at myself without eyelashes after the water bucket fire experiment, thinking how stupid that was. Today, though, I am excited about the new flame I found burning. The one for which I was looking. I want to sit and enjoy it, the warmth, the comfort, the quiet, the complete sense that no matter what, my Father loves me and it is all gonna be OK.

Love and Money the Oldest Profession

2010-02-01T07:33:00.000-08:00

The oldest profession in the world is held by women. They have been in the business since early on. The trade is not necessarily lucrative, and I am amazed at how many women choose it as a career path. I love that they do; I am a big fan. My wife loves it, and if she could, it is all she would do.

What -- you thought I was talking about … oh no way. I mean a mom, a wife, the keeper of the home. Eve was the first mom, wife and the grandmother to us all if you go all the way back. In society today, the mom is the rock. She is the one the guys yell to when they win the Super Bowl or World Series. It is always the wife or mom whom even the biggest ole’ boy wants around when he is sick.

The wife or mom is also the one in control of certain things most guys won’t touch. Take the grocery store, for instance. I am almost, just short of, evil-eyed close to not allowed to go. I will get a list or a call for a loaf of bread or gallon of milk. I will get the occasional call to pick up a few big steaks or diet soda. Beyond that, it is no use. I am not wanted in the grocery store aisles shopping for our home.

I tried going with her a time or two over the last 16 years; not gonna make that mistake again. When she goes, it is a slow process where she compares, experiments, works up and down the aisles in a very deliberate fashion. I say let’s rock this out and get home -- wrong. She knows what the kids need, what the house needs and what I might need.

Coupons are a big deal. If she does not get back $10 or $15 in coupon savings, she feels like she did not do well. Another very interesting sniglet is if she has, say, $200 to spend that day, you can bet it will be almost to the dollar, after coupons, without a calculator. I don’t know how she does it; she just does.

When anyone is sick around our house, it is always mom who gets the call. Medication is strictly controlled by her, and she knows who reacts and how. She knows the substitute drugs and homeopathic cures as well. Chicken soup, cold wash clothes, heating pad, oatmeal bath, stay home from school -- all the doctor’in is from mom. I am for that in a big way, especially when I am not feeling well.

Most guys I know just slam some painkillers or cold meds and hammer on down the road. That is what I do. However, when I am really sick, she steps in and takes care of me. I have noticed, though, that after all these years, some of the glamour of taking care of the old man has worn off and she has been known to cut corners. I have even had her tell me she was leaving to run errands and was not sure when she would be back while I laid on the couch sick. How could she be so cold? It could not possibly be that I am being a total un-nice sick person?

Home decorations are another thing moms are in charge of that most guys don’t have a say over. My wife has an affinity for rugs. Seems every other week she has a new rug replacing the old rug from the week before. Candleholders, picture frames, towels, tablecloths, drinking glasses. Things. I don’t know how much they cost. I don’t ask how much they cost. I know better than to go there. She spends money on things I see as frivolous and silly, but they make our home a home and that is what moms do. They nest. They create a home inside the cave, the teepee, the wood frame box with sheetrock on the walls.

Moms are the ones who love things that don’t make sense to anyone. They take the scribbled-on construction paper and put it on the refrigerator door. My wife kisses every card our kids have ever given her, paper, note or whatever before she disposes of them, if she ever does that is.

Now, it has to be said that moms love to be cared for as well. I have talked about scrubbing the big pots in the kitchen before. When we have large pans or pots dirty in our kitchen, I jump in and clean them. Motivational speaker Zig Ziglar talks about how he will take his wife’s car out early Saturday morning and fill it with gas, run it through the car wash, change the oil. These are things she could do, but he does them as part of the care he shows for her. Moms need to hear they are appreciated and feel they are appreciated. Kids don’t always understand it until later, but, usually, they figure out that mom was a pretty big help when they were young and dumb. I know I did.

The Bible talks a lot about moms and wives. It tells us just how much of a blessing they are. Any real man worth his weight knows that his wife, the kids’ mom, is a machine and deserves a Golden Globe, a Heisman, a Red Cross Safety and Medic award, a Purple Heart and a slew of precious stones in her crown when she gets to heaven.

Tell your mom you love her; hug your wife. Teach your boys to honor their moms and one day wife.

TJ Greaney
tj@kidsoutdoorzone.com

100 mph Baseballs and God

2010-01-19T10:53:00.000-08:00

Why Do I Agree To Settle for Less?

Everyone struggles to stay on top. When your game is on, when your relationship is running smooth. When the money is flowing in from work, when all is well, we are good, we are on top. When the money slows and the wife is mad and your team is losing and the work load is piling up we lose that sense of happiness or feeling of “all is well.” It doesn’t take a computer scientist to figure out why, it is just life, it is the way it works, it is going to happen. Do we just agree that that is what you’re going to get and just expect it, that we can just expect the minimum most of the time, the raw end of the deal, that it is never going to be great all the time?

During Nolan Ryan’s baseball career he was considered the meanest man on the mound. Even the great batters of his era knew if he was on, throwing 100 plus miles-per-hour strikes, they would never hit them and they prayed for a walk.

"He just blew it (Nolan Ryan strikeout number five-thousand) by me. But it's an honor. I'll have another paragraph in all the baseball books." - Rickey Henderson

During his career Ryan experienced many times where he was in a “slump.” Game after game he would stand on the mound and try to find his motion only to be replaced after a few innings. Things just would not come together.

Then the game would come when Ryan would walk to the mound and begin to pitch. The pitches would be right, the speed would be there, the motion was smooth and it felt right. Ryan pitched in the big leagues for 27 seasons. He threw 7 no-hitters, 324 wins, 7 MVP awards, 5714 strike outs, 277 wild pitches, 158 hit’s by pitch and on and on.

Through it all his work out never slowed. His physical regiment and practice routine was and is the model for pitchers today. He would work out and throw the ball time and time again, every day.

Ryan tells how it took two years after he left the game, (1993), to begin to stop doing the things he did every day to stay ready. He tells how he thought “Ok, when I finish with baseball I will have my ranch and other things set so baseball will be done.” That plan was short lived.

Ryan founded the minor league team Round Rock Express in 1998, one of the most successful minor league team ever. Then it was a team in Corpus Christi. Ryan’s passion and love for the game would not let him leave. His life was built on baseball and he was good at it in more ways than he would know standing on the mound all those years. His knowledge and talent was the foundation for the minor league teams but it was his heart, his passion, his love of the game that kept him in, all in.

I get so frustrated that I can’t stay connected into my relationship with God on a really high note for extended periods of time. I have been on the mountain top and experienced His grace and kindness. I have had days where the blessings just poured in and the next thing I know I am angry and frustrated with something trivial, I mean stupid things that really carry no weight if I admit the truth. I find myself in the valley so quickly.

I have been told time and time again that the valleys are inevitable. The ups and downs are just life and expect them. OK, I expect them as real and the attacks to be there. But do I have to settle for that? Do I have to just go along with it and not believe that God wants me to be happy, to be immersed in the love I have felt from Him? No, I think not.

Nolan Ryan knew that feeling when everything was working right, when his fingers gripped the ball perfectly and his arm swung down at the right angle and the pop as the ball stopped in his catcher’s glove. He never settled for mediocrity, he never agreed to “just throw it slower and you will be fine,” “don’t try so hard and it will be OK.” He would never stand for “we all have our ups and downs, just go with it.”

He pushed himself hours on end, day after day because he knew the feeling he got when it was all right. He knew the feeling inside of himself when he had a good outing, a great outing. His heart and convictions moved him to be the best he could be, he was hungry for it.

I have an autographed baseball from Ryan, I am pretty proud of that ball. I have also felt the love God offers each of us and it has changed me. I am hungry for it, I strive for that overwhelming feeling when he is present with me. I know it won’t be there every waking moment, but I refuse to settle.

tj@kidsoutdoorzone.com

Led Zepplin, Rolling Stones and God.

2009-12-28T11:41:00.000-08:00

I am an old rocker from the ‘70s. To this day I enjoy the classic rock music of that time. I have hundreds of vinyl LPs stored in a closet that I just know one day will come back into fashion. I even have a really cool collection of concert ticket stubs from Led Zeppelin and the Rolling Stones to Peter Frampton and Queen. Honestly, I don’t remember a lot of the shows, but I know I went -- I have the ticket stubs.

I am not proud of all the times I was dazed and confused (Led Zeppelin) back then. I have actually started to finally get a clear mind after 25 years of sobriety. But back then I was a lost young man and most days I was trying to get some shelter so I wouldn’t fade away (Rolling Stones, “Gimme Shelter”). OK, bad puns but pretty true as far as who and what my search was from day to day.

I came from a broken home and found myself out on the streets and just trying to keep it together from about the age of 14. I spent the first 10 or 15 years of my sobriety still angry and blaming every one who abandoned that young boy wandering about on those cold nights back then.

However, I have a different outlook on it all today. I don’t blame anyone for the trials and hardships, the times I felt abandoned and hungry. I realized that I was training to be who I am today through those hard times. Those lessons prepared me to be in a place where I can understand boys and men who lived or are living those same trials. It prepared me to start Kids Outdoor Zone Youth Adventure Ministry.

What I mean is that I realize now all those things are the tools I can use when I speak into the lives of those God puts in my path. I understand the boy who is bored at school and wants to quit. I get it when a guy wants to get loaded and check out on everything. I understand the kid who is getting in trouble because he has no one to guide him along the trail. I understand the guy who works all the time or has issues with anger or alcohol.

There are a lot of us, men and women, who have life stories that are unique to just us. They are the fabric that makes us who we are, and my challenge to each of you who is reading this is to pray about those times, good and bad, and ask God to reveal to you what to do with them. Don’t just complain or whine about the hardships and screwed up things that happened back then. Use them to minister into the lives of others today. This new year can be a time for you to turn your past into something positive for the future. Do you think you had it worse than everyone else? Do you think nobody makes it out of the places you have been? I assure you that you do not, and there are people who have.

I have also experienced times I thought I was following His will for me, doing what I thought I was meant to do. I prayed about it, talked to all kinds of people trying to make a good decision only to find out I made a mistake. That will happen. The difference is the process, the way we go about trying to do His will in our lives. You will always make mistakes and pick the left hand when you should have picked the right one; we are flawed. God knows we are going to do that and loves us anyway. When we make the wrong decisions we need to look at the whole process, where it was wrong and how it kept us from Him and move on.

God has us all here for a purpose. When we live day to day without purpose, a reason to live for, we end up like the hamster in the wheel, caged and running in the same place getting nowhere. When Adam and Eve took the fall, that was the beginning of the end of the perfect life so we will have our ups and downs.

I love the way God loves on us, how He plays with us. I hope and pray that for me (and you), I do better this year in making decisions. I encourage you to ask Him what it is you are supposed to be doing to give back, to help Him with His mission in your life for others. You are special, unique and one of a kind, He loves you like no other could. Give it back, share your gifts.

Happy New Year –
TJ Greaney

Changing How We Look at Christmas?

2009-12-06T20:39:00.000-08:00

I believe in Santa. Period. He comes to our house, he leaves presents, eats cookies and drinks the milk we leave out. All my kids are at an age where they may have some different ideas about the physical Santa, that’s OK. When I have been confronted with that question by them I ask them two simple questions before I answer. One is, “do you like Santa coming to our home, the preparation, the surprise gifts?” The second question is, “do you want him to keep coming?” Both of these questions are always yes. Then I answer yes there is a Santa.

The questions are trick questions and they know that. The effort that goes into the whole Santa event that night before Christmas is pretty extensive. Santa has to get all the gifts in the right place, wrapped right, assembled, batteries etc. He is always very busy that night.

In the first two chapters of Luke in the New Testimate Jesus' birth is told in detail. The Immaculate Conception, the angles, manger and gifts. It is the most common story of Jesus birth and one of a glorious beginning to the redemption of man on earth.

There is another lesser know story on that day. It is a dark one. As Jesus was being born, Satan, a fallen angel, was close by looking for a chance to devourer Him. Satan is the prince of darkness on earth and the last thing he wanted was for God to come to earth, as a man, and mess with him any more than He already did. You can read this second less know story in Revelations chapter 12, it is crazy.

OK so this is not the Christmas editorial you wanted to read that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. But for me as I continue this walk with God I am shown so many new and wonderful things that inspire, motivate, capture, anger, confuse, worry, teach and move me to an new understanding of what life is about, what is important and how to live it, I want to share it.

Christmas can be a time of depression and anxiety for many. It can be a time when we do things we know we should not because we are under pressure to provide gifts or material things to people around us. It might spur memories of hard times or sad times when we were kids. It can bring back all kinds of emotions we might not want to feel. For those who are suffering from emotions or are experiencing hard times I am compassionate to your needs and feelings.

The best thing I can tell you is that on Christmas day 2009 years ago there was a baby boy born. His name was Jesus. You cannot deny His earthly influence. The calendar starts with His birthday. The book about His life is the best know, best selling, most widely published book ever, times 1000. His Father’s name is on our money. His dad is so popular almost everyone who hears a person sneeze says His name. Christmas is a huge celebration and it is all in his name, “Christ”-mas.

His purpose was to come to earth and give us all a chance to change how we do life. To receive forgiveness, to become the person I know we all desire to be inside, in our hearts.

I love Santa. I watch the movies Elf, Rudolph, Frosty the Snowman, The Christmas Story and others every year laughing, crying and enjoying them over and over. I love the decorations and the food, the music and the spirit that it evokes in so many people. It is truly a special time of year. But I also know the depth of what happened on that day. I am humble and live my life to honor and please the One who came Christmas day 2009 years ago.

Don't forget what Will Farrell said as Buddy the Elf, “ The best way to spread Christmas Cheer is singing loud for all to hear.” Jesus was born 2009 years ago, that is amazing and in my simple opinion, worth singing about.

Filled with wonder, Awestruck wonder.
At the mention of Your name
Jesus, your Name is Power
Breath, and Living Water
Such a marvelous mystery
Yea.....

Holy, Holy Holy
Is the Lord God Almighty
Who was, and is and is to come, yea.
With all creation I sing:
Praise to the King of kings!
You are my everything,
And – I – will – adore You.

(Revelation Song)

TJ Greaney
Publisher
Follow TJ on his blog. Countrylinemagazine.com

Pink, Hearts and Guns

2009-12-01T09:59:00.000-08:00

When I watch people who are truly worshipping the Lord, I can really get a soft heart and tear heavy eyes. I am so mesmerized by His effect on those who have found His love and how they wrap themselves with it, especially kids.

Recently we had our annual Father/Daughter hunt on a ranch in South Texas. The place is made for our type of events with good sleeping quarters, lots of wild animals and my all time favorite cook shack. The daughters loved the time with dad. I still see things I could do to improve the event but God always takes care of the time we have with Him there.

The one girl who was there without a father was Kayla. Her daddy was killed in an auto accident. I have hunted and mentored her brother for years. Interesting fact, he has always wanted to be a paleontologist until last year. When we were filming a small clip with him for the Kids Outdoor Zone (KOZ) banquet he said “screw being a paleontologist I am going to be a KOZ hunting guide.” I am not sure if hanging with me has helped or not, but he does love hunting and fishing.

In the last few years God has taken this lost little girl who I had pegged for pregnant and dropped out by 15, and moved her into His arms. I feel my emotions welling up as I write this. I am so sorry I doubted you Lord, for doubting Kayla. She never liked the idea of all the hunting we did or anything about it . Then a couple months before the D/D hunt she mentioned she would like to go. I told her if she really wanted to, I would take her.

The first afternoon, Friday, I took her and several other girls to shoot the KOZ .17 rifle. This was her first time to ever shoot a gun and she hit dead on four of six shots and the other two were slightly to one side but deadly. Wow.

Saturday morning we were fogged in and could not shoot at what we saw safely. That afternoon we returned to the blind and watched a large group of javelina, some nice bucks, birds and all types of other wild game. Then it happened, the perfect opportunity. A lone doe came out and stood broadside. Kayla took her time, set up and dropped the deer in its tracks. It seemed at that moment I saw something in her eyes, a twinkle or glimmer, a light. I am holding back my emotions again as I write this. It was so clear, so pure, so real, God was there.

The loss of her father has never really come up much in conversations over the years. That weekend in the deer blind as we sat in the warm sun she talked about her feelings, how she missed him and how she loved her mom. I could see how God had made her strong in some areas. I could see she accepted His arm around her to help her walk through where she is in her life today and with the cards that have been dealt her.

On Saturday night at hunt camp I had the girls write a letter to their dad. Taylor my daughter and I talked about the letter with Kayla. She was OK with it. She took her pen and paper and went outside to write the letter. Her plan was to put it on his grave. I was moved by her strength.

Psalm 59:16But I will sing of your strength, in the morning I will sing of your love; for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble.

I collected the letters to be given to the dads at the end of the weekend.

Sunday came and Kayla shot a second deer that morning. The girls all did really well and harvested deer. My daughter Taylor had all the girls joking that retail stores were going to have to start selling bullets one at a time because they didn’t need to buy more than one or two. I loved that.

As we all began to go our way Sunday afternoon I gave the fathers the letters. My daughter had one in the stack for me. There was also one for me from Kayla. The instructions were to read them later that evening as well as the notes the fathers wrote to the girls.

In the letter I got from Kayla she tells me “Thanks for teaching me how to shoot a gun. I feel like I can accomplish anything at this moment. Thanks for the great talks and for taking me to a father and daughter event, I have never been to one.” My heart skipped a beat. I am crying again.

The time I got to spend with the girls on this event reminded me what true beauty is. What I see in them is beauty from the inside out. They are strong and courageous, determined and mindful. They are soft and gentle and funny and caring. They are searching for a loving Father and have begun to see Him in their walk with the Lord. They inspire me and make me laugh; they frustrate me and own my heart all at the same time.

Lord thank you for the opportunity to spend time with the girls hunting. Thank you for their joyous and wonderful hearts. Thanks for the clean shots and deer that were harvested. Thanks for the girls willingness to clean them and the cookies they made Saturday night. Lord, I also pray for the young men you have picked out already for these girls. I pray they know early these girls can shoot, they can handle a gut knife, a four wheeler, a credit card, a Chi hair straightener and they aren’t messing around.

Amen.

TJ Greaney

tj@kidsoutdoorzone.com

Mountain Top Meeting with God

2009-11-24T20:09:00.001-08:00

I know there have been a lot of people who have documented meeting God. The authors of the bible wrote about burning bushes, clouds coming down, even Jesus walking about and conversations with Him. I too have written of the times I encountered Him, things He has done in my life and those around me and the stories they shared. I am moved to write about Him often and usually I am not for lack of words. However today I don’t quite know how to express or describe the four days in Colorado with John Eldredege’s Ransomed Heart Ministry (Wild at Heart) it’s leaders and God.

In my walk with the Lord over the last couple of years I have acquired a yearning to be closer to Him, walk closer to Him, live in a way that He would be proud of. I want the things I do and say to honor Him. I want to live as an example, leave a legacy that pleases Him. It was not long ago I would have yawned at those type of Spirit filled desires. Today I stand next to them and hunger for their meaning.

When I found there was a Boot Camp that taught on the lessons of the Wild at Heart message I wanted to go. My turn came on a cold wintery week in November outside Denver, Colorado. I arrived via shuttle bus from the airport. I won’t go into detail on the facility, the food or the free time activities, just let me say it was wonderful and comfortable, healthy and good.

The snow was light and fresh falling carefully as to not distract us as we made our way to the first gathering that Thursday night. A group of men, 300 or so, in close proximity to each other is usually not what I would choose for a relaxing time to look inside myself or become vulnerable. I can access my gut and express what I am feeling in small groups of men, but this was a bit over the top. That was the first time He showed up. The anxiety and self inflicted discomfort went away as I prayed with the men on stage and off. He freed me to learn and worship.

Each morning as the sun was coming up I tried to be one of the first ones out to explore the crisp morning air and slow deliberate life on the mountain. The snow was quiet when it came in the night and each morning everything that seemed dirty or out of place the day before was covered white and appeared soft, light, fresh, a part of the whole. I had a spot I would stand and watch the sun rise and ask for God to come over me, to be with me. I don’t know that I have ever done this except in pain or tragedy. We were encouraged to ask Him in and I did.

I prayed for a still moment in my thoughts. I wanted to be at this event fully, completely. Then He would come. I could physically feel Him there, inside me, next to me, over me. I wanted to cry and laugh and smile all at once. I had never felt Him so clearly before. I knew He was there. I wept.

I came from a background of self-will and self preservation. I am a pull yourself up by your boot straps kinda guy. I remember the night as a teenager I was alone walking down an interstate somewhere. It was cold, raining and I was tired and so very lonely. I remember looking out across a field and seeing a small farm house with a light on and wishing I could be a part of that family, in a warm place where I was loved. At that moment I let Him go, I turned off all emotion. I could not allow myself to be vulnerable or I would die.

During the time with the leaders of Ransomed Heart they shared with us how they accessed God in their lives. Their prayer lives seemed deliberate and unlimited. How could I have ignored that for so long. I was broken as I prayed for a true walk with God our Father. A loving, forgiving, caring Father, a personal relationship with a Father I had limited and kept at a distance.

In each session my heart soared and my thoughts of the ones I loved and cared for washed over me. I prayed for God to remove the barriers, I prayed for ego and self-will to be removed. I prayed to Him to teach me to pray, to help me retain the lessons, to incorporate them in my life. He came, He stood with me, He put His arms around me, He loved on me and I cried more.

There is so much today we have to deal with as participants in this world. It can be easy for me to get to a place in my walk with Christ on a snow covered mountain with other Godly men but a fight each morning at my own, safe, warm house. In my brokenness I have ignored prayer time with my wife, my kids and in so many situations. I never really believed He would speak to me so freely and openly. What I found on the mountain over those few days was He does and will come to me, us.

The Ransomed Heart team shared vulnerable moments, personal moments of strength and weakness. They shared times of glorious revelation and times of darkness and doubt. They shared how they prayed and asked God into their lives, for others, for direction in times of hardship and happiness. They prayed asking their Father to come to them, speak to them, be with them, guide them.

I know better now He is with me and I feel empowered and comforted in so many ways after the time on the mountain. I feel he has taken me to the old farm house across the pasture I saw that night so many years ago. I am loved, warm, He is with me.

I have a new revelation, a new vision, a new relationship with God today. I pray Lord keep me hungry for that time with you, that intimacy. Help me Lord honor the gifts I received and Lord use me as a warrior for You.

When I allow myself to think about the day I am facing my Lord, my Father God – I tear up. It is a selfish tear to myself, I only hope He tells me the words I long to hear – “Job well done my true and faithful son.” That is the day I long for, I can’t wait.

http://www.ransomedheart.com/

TJ GreaneyTJ@kidsoutdoorzone.com

Nail Salons and Hunting

2009-11-09T15:02:00.000-08:00

Not every boy wants to go hunting or fishing, I met one once, for real. But my experience is that almost anytime I have asked a group of boys if any of them wanted to go fishing or hunting with me, they go crazy and all want in on the adventure.

When we got back from out of town not long ago we heard about a boy at our church who had lost his father. My wife and I went over to visit and take them dinner. During the visit I mentioned that we had an all boys hunting trip coming up and I would love for him to go with us. He was beside himself. His mom later told me it was the distraction he needed at that time.

The scheduled weekend came and we made our way to the ranch with six other boys in tow. The sun was setting as we began to unload and I prepared something for us all to eat. The hunt camp was basically dirt and a small shack the size of my daughter’s room. The floor was lined with the boys’ gear and sleeping bags.

While all the other boys were out collecting rocks and firewood the one who had lost his dad stayed behind. He laid back against the wooden wall and began to tell me about his dreams since his father died and how he was feeling. I never asked him; it seemed to just pour out. It was heart wrenching.

The last morning we hunted hard and never had the shot we were comfortable with. The sun was over us and we knew the other boys were packing and cleaning up. We slowly made our way back to camp and I took blame for the less than successful weekend hunt he had. Then it happened, a deer stepped out, a perfect shot, and it was done. It was his first deer and just before we got back to camp to leave.

That morning after we got back to camp he accepted Christ into his life and we baptized him in an old concrete horse trough. It is hard to deny God when He is standing next to you.

It was years ago now but there is another boy who lost his father to a tragic car accident. His mother and sister moved in next door with the grandparents and that is when we met. For years, he has tagged along with us on hunting and fishing trips. He is learning about life as a boy, responsibility, right, wrong and how a young man should behave.

One evening on a fishing trip we baptized him in the lake as the sun set behind us. It was powerful and all the men there wept in joy of how God works.

My beautiful teenage daughter has friends who are now interested in the outdoors, hunting and fishing. Some have dads, some don’t. The key attraction is the real life event of hunting or fishing. It is the adventure, the dirt and the challenges the quest provide. Yes, girls who love dirt one day and getting their nails done the next. How can that be?

The girls hunts we have done have been so powerful and exciting. I hate to tell the boys this, but the girls are better shots and can skin a hog or a deer with the best of you. Ouch.

Hunting and fishing may not be your thing. Not a problem. It’s about being thankful for the blessing we have no matter how much or how little. It can be as easy as taking the kid next door or one of your kids’ friends as part your next family outing. Include one more seat at the movies, at the restaurant, on the golf course or next to you in church.

Time spent with others is the key. A mentor can change a life, boy, girl, man or woman. Live yours a life of influence and purpose. Create a legacy, a tradition or a memory. Be intentional in the lives of those you come in contact with. Contribute to organizations doing good works. Be thankful and show thanks.

My good friend Jimmy always says, “you can’t out give God.” He is right and if you don’t believe it, try it.

For information on our ministry go to www.kidsoutdoorzone.com

TJ Greaney
Country Line Magazine
Kids Outdoor Zone

Life and Death on the Mountain

2009-10-27T12:51:00.000-07:00

It is less than 4 hours till I leave with my 15-year-old daughter on one of the most important trips, to date, of our life. We will spend seven days in the mountains hunting bear and elk with just what we can carry on our backs.

Now I know many adults will think I have lost my mind. The idea of being in the wilds for nine days (we have to be there before hunting season starts to set up and get ready) without running water, electricity, email, cell phones or anything else, well to some that is just nuts. I tell you on some levels I think it may be.

Seems there are more than a few of my daughter’s friends who think she is crazy. Not only all the outside elements she will be faced with but what about being with just your dad for that long. They question the idea of the long drive up with just me, no hair care products to speak of, no texting.

But as I look at the gear I believe we have what we need. A Katadyn Vario water purification system, Jetboil cooking system, Coleman tent and sleeping bags, Mountain House dehydrated meals, Bushnell Backtrack GPS and an Icon Rogue flashlight. Some of the finest gear available. We have trained over the last months at the gym and running. There is really no way in the flat lands to prepare completely for the altitude and the weather. This summer in a test run we did really well at 7 & 10,000 feet, acclimating pretty fast, this is crucial.

I know the area pretty well and my oldest brother knows it real well in case we don’t report in on time. He has property just a half day horse ride below and he taught me the way of the elk and how to hunt them. He is a great elk hunter. He completed the “holy grail” of elk hunting several years ago when he packed back into the national forest on horseback and killed a monster bull elk with his bow.

I have put on a nice layer of fat to keep me warm. The temperature this time of year in the mountains where we are going averages about 20. It can get up to the 50’s during the day but for us, in the dark hunting the timber, it will remain cold. The snow has come in plenty of times on me there and can slow you down but it helps a lot when your tracking so there is some give and take.

The real test here, the real motivator for me is the time with my daughter. She can be tough and has proven herself worthy of this trip with high grades, no discipline problems, hard work and she is a great hunter as well.

I have a lot going on right now – lots of emails I can send out or reply to, lots of phone calls I can make, lots of things to get done. The problem is that will always be there. I have never had a day when I did not have something I could do. I have a few moments in my life where I heard God speak to me and tell me to invest time into something, go somewhere, talk to someone, do something and this is one of them.

I have plenty of times already in my life I regret. I have times I have laid on the couch and ignored what I knew I should be doing, went hunting when I needed to be home or shopping, or drinking or getting into trouble. Life is full of regrets and so many of them are ones we elect to bestow upon ourselves.

Today I will embark on an adventure with my daughter. It may fail, we may get run off the mountain by weather, not see any big game or worse. But God is going to lead us and bless us in this time together. William Wallace (Braveheart)once said something like, “ Will you not fight for your country’s freedom? Will you leave and return to the comforts of your home as your neighbors and countrymen die here today? Will you wake up one day, living a life of regret, regret you did not fight the fight and die with honor? Today I choose to fight, I choose freedom.”

God’s Speed –
TJ

Old Man River and the Rain

2009-10-05T13:22:00.000-07:00

I love the flowing waters of a river or mountain stream. My spirit is calmed by the sounds of the water flowing over the rocks and across the gravel banks. Just the thought of a clear mountain stream in Colorado can take me there. Then there is the warm red waters pushing lazily by in a mighty river in Texas. They are both moving waters consoling to my soul.

The vast reservoirs of water in central and south Texas have also earned a place in my heart. Some are huge and serve as water supplies for drinking, farming, household and industrial uses. Many times I have explored these reservoirs and they are reticent chapters in the memories of my life.

Water is said to be the great reliever and for me when I feel out of sorts a shower can be one of the things that brings me back to center. I have taken several showers in a day on bad days when nothing seems to be going right or I don’t feel well physically. Water, in so many ways, seems to bring me back to start and I can begin again.

I have long been one who has tried to please others and God by doing all the right things. For years when anyone asked me to help set-up at church, help with a Sunday school class, visit with a wounded member I was first in line. I preached a calling to everyone who went to our church to take on as much as I had, I challenged them.

The whole thing really carried the stench of pride and ego. The need is there and the acts were good and thoughtful so how could that be wrong? If you know of a need, do it. Don’t come to the table with a complaint or problem unless you are willing to be a part of the solution. Pull yourself up by your boot straps. Pray this way and study this scripture, do it like me.

Then it hit, a wall I could not overcome, I was drained. God’s loving compassion for this egotistical shell of a man took me out of it all. He removed all the comforts of my routine; He removed the confines I had built that kept me comfortable in my world. I took a job out of town and was away from my family most days for 11 months.

God placed me in a quiet place for almost a year. Over that period I began to detox. The things I thought so important faded and my heart began to heal. I began to seek a feeling, something I longed for that I had filled with busy Christian works. I could not figure out what it was exactly but the hole in my heart was emptied of all my good works and deeds and readied it for His love.

OK, so if you’re a regular guy like me, I guess some of this stuff sounds pretty soft and fluffy. I don’t know where a lot of it comes from, it just comes – but I am learning that the word love is a big deal and that God’s love is what I am seeking. It is hard to explain how deep and profound the feeling is even in the smallest bits and pieces. I was looking for a lightning bolt, it was a small pat on the back, a hand on my shoulder. The deal is when I finally found out what it is, how it feels, I am hungry for it. It is like trying to match a great shot at the golf course or a big fish on the line, for ladies maybe finding a great pair of shoes on sale or a good hair day. You spend large time trying to get that feeling again, you think about it, all the nuances that surrounded it, it makes you smile and feel warm and good. That is what finding the love of God does. You don’t get it every shot, not every cast, not every shopping trip, but you strive for it anyway, you want it.

John Eldredge talks about how a river can flow constantly but a reservoir need to fill up before it can spill over. He talks about how good it is to be so full of God’s love in us that it spills over into the lives of those around us. There are a lot of references to the flowing river throughout scripture – but for me – the auto pilot mechanical Christian, water in - water out was not working. Now I am asking for God’s rain to fill my reservoir.

Bring me joy, bring me peace

Bring the chance to be free

Bring me anything that brings You glory

And I know there'll be days

When this life brings me pain

But if that's what it takes to praise You

Jesus, bring the rain

(Mercy Me)

TJ Greaney

TJ@kidsoutdoorzone.com

PS: I liked this line but could not figure out how to fit it in…

– another great cast down the fairway catching a really nice shoe on sale right after a good haircut.…perfect…..

Teddy Roosevelt and the Rites of Passage

2009-09-20T21:44:00.000-07:00

I remember random things from when I was young. I remember my dad building a go-cart from an old wagon. I remember camping trips and trees in my back yard we would climb. I remember the wooden floors in our first house and playing outside in the eye of hurricane Carla.

There are a lot of things I try to do that are intentional with my kids that they will hopefully be memories they will cherish and hold as important times in our lives together. For my oldest who is now 26, I took him out of school every year for his birthday to go fishing. We had several birthdays when we had storms roll in on top of us and we had to fight the wind and waves to get back to the boat launch. I remember once we were fishing as a storm approached. He looked at me laughing and said “dad your hair is standing straight up.” I realized the danger of potential lightening and we beat feat to the nearest covered dock and watched the storm roll past. It never mattered if we caught fish, we always got in trouble for dragging in late with school the next day, but we always went.

My youngest son and I hunt together a lot. We spend a lot of time taking other boys out hunting and teaching them the way of the woods. When he turned 10 several of male our closest friends came over and read him letters they wrote to him about how special he was. We blessed him and talked of the responsibilities he would face as he turned double digits. That day he received the pellet rifle I was given at 10-years-old 40 years earlier.

My daughter and I spend date nights together and time in the outdoors. She can put on a beautiful dress and go to dinner with me as easily as she can put on cammo coveralls and hunt for deer. Her first deer and our night at the recent chocolate festival are so important to me, and I hope for her as well. She is a bit harder for me to understand, but for her, well she has me wrapped around her finger and the woman in her knows it.

It is important to be intentional with our kids as they grow up. They need to have milestones and markers in their lives that are meaningful and significant. Rites of passage are important to and it seems we have gotten away from those markers in our culture today.

I want to teach my kids to also be brave and strong and compassionate. I want them to explore the world and learn to love the Lord openly with zeal and fervor.

Theodore Roosevelt once said, "It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

The world can be a scary place if we do not ready our children and ourselves to face the hardships and challenges ahead. Love needs to be an emotion not a physical act. Character must be a part of who we are not a cartoon veneer or passing thought. We need to plan an adventure and a quest.

The bible is a place you can go to find answers to the hardest questions and accept lifelong challenges. The Words there were written intentionally. The Old Testament and New Testament are both markers of a rite of passage given to us by a loving Father. Be intentional in who you are and what you do. Speak into your kid’s lives and those around you. Be bold and forthright and challenge the untruths in your life. Remember If God is with us then who could be against us.

TJ Greaney9/20/09

How Will You Determine Your Destiny? 09/11/09

2009-09-11T08:27:00.000-07:00

Ronald Regan once said: "You and I have a rendezvous with destiny. We will preserve for our children this, the last best hope of man on earth, or we will sentence them to take the first step into a thousand years of darkness. If we fail, at least let our children and our children's children say of us we justified our brief moment here. We did all that could be done."

Today we are facing that rendezvous with destiny, we are face to face with the providence of our children’s future, our grandchildren’s future – the future of America as we know it today.

This country, a country built on self sacrifice, hard work, sweat, ingenuity, compassion, commitment and drive is you and me. We are the ones who are living here, the ones who get up each day and fight the fight, live life here in this community – we shop at the grocery, we pay an electric bill, we buy fuel for our cars and trucks, sit in PTA meetings and boy scout meetings and at little league games - we are the ones who are unemployed or sick or young and just starting out. This is our home, our land, our country our life.

There are longtime Liberal leaders in this country who do not understand the daily life we the people are living each day – they are the establishment in Washington. In a Washington cocoon of self driven ideals for a socialist nation - they have lost touch with you, their constituents. These are the leaders we asked to be there, to fight for us, protect us, to stand tall against those who would take away our freedoms, force their will upon us. But they deserted us, they gave us away.

There are a lot of things we need to address today in our country. We want to feel confident in your representation – we deserve not to be heard – but listened to.

Health care is a concern for us all – I have a friend, Dr. Donna Campbell an emergency room specialist. Dr. Campbell has spent her career serving those who need medical attention and council. She has seen the good, the bad and the worst. She knows firsthand that we live in a country with the finest medical care. There are Liberals in Washington who see the Cuban medical system as the ideal model. That is absolutely wrong.

Yes we have problems, yes there are those who need to understand how to get their medical needs resolved – yes there are things we can do better – but to completely wreck the finest medical system in the world is a mistake we may never get back.

Our country was built on your blood, sweat and tears. Your hard work yesterday, today and tomorrow should not be in vane – your wages and savings should not be taxed or mortgaged for pet projects, liberal agendas and expenditures to the backscratchers and special interests who have taken over Washington.

Billions of dollars are earmarked for the communalist agendas of these Washington elitist –

They are spending YOUR money. They are securing a financial burden upon your children and their children and their children that unless we stop it – will demand them to submit to a governmental society – one that forces dependency on not what they want for their family but what the government tells them they can have. A burden so heavy that they will never enjoy the life, the freedoms, the beauty of the America we love so dearly.

Our soldiers and sailors – our freedom fighters have always been the front line. These brave men and women have held strong against overwhelming odds on the battle field since we became this nation America. Today they fight to protect their families, your families, us - from experiencing another horrific Sept. 11 attack. There are those in Washington who on that day and those immediately there-after stood up and shouted for us to avenge our brethren but have since become cowardice to the minority who shout them into submission, those who believe in a socialist fight – one of submission and not leadership – one of collective obedience and not freedom.

Is that who we are? Is that you? That is not the American heart I know, the one I believe in. It is not the America I cry for when a stand for the pledge of allegiance.

There are many issues we need to concern ourselves with – real issues – ones you and I live with each and every day right here in our cities, our towns, our homes – our lives –
Despite our current hard times and lack of leadership for we the people here today – I know one thing is true, We are the God fearing life soldiers who must drawn our sword against the beast of Washington - those who have forgotten who we are - we are the colors of the sunrise over this land – the one place on earth that still has the blood of freedom and the spirit of life and liberty.

We are one nation, under God, indivisible – striving now – today to regain our liberty and Justice for all – This is not about one person, this is about taking back our America – it is about taking back what so many have given their lives for .

Today as we remember those who perished on that fateful day back on Sept. 11, 2001 and pray for their loved ones. Let us not forget the words of our founding fathers:

(DI Quote)-When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

(DI Quote)-That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government

(DI Quote)-That when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.

The tyranny of Washington today must be our will driving force –

Know that if our God is with us, who shall be against us –

Today I call on you to never forget – never allow the history of this great nation to be transformed from the truth – that we are faithful servants to Him and those who gave their lives for the mighty and better cause are not going to be forgotten or left behind. Their cause was great – their love for their fellow American was uncompromised – they gave the ultimate gift to all who can shout from the soil of America “ I am Free "

TJ Greaney 09/11/09

Long Haired Health Food Nut....

2009-09-08T19:32:00.000-07:00

Gimme a head with hair, long beautiful hair, Shining, gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen
Give me down to there, hair!Shoulder length, longer (hair!)
Here baby, there mama, Everywhere daddy daddy
Hair! (hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair)
Flow it, Show it;Long as God can grow it, My Hair!

That song from the musical Hair is one I used to relate to. In my teen years and through my twenties I had long, thick, curly hair that at times rolled to the middle of my back. I don’t know that it was ever “flaxen or waxen,” but it was a good head of hair.

I was a pretty hip guy I guess. My ear was pierced. I did all the things “long hairs” did in those days, many of which we won’t talk about here. I hitch-hiked across the country and cruised the beaches of California as well as the highways and by-ways of Nevada, Louisiana and Texas. I hung out in town squares full of other hippies watching life go by.

Now as I begin to live my second 50-years I have conformed in a lot of ways. I guess if someone looked at me today I would on most days look pretty solid establishment. I prefer a starched shirt over a tie-dye, boots over Birkenstocks, I drive a big truck and not a Scion.

I see a lot of people in Austin who are able to keep living the hippie, tie-dye lifestyle and they look comfortable, just doing life like the rest of us. Honestly, I used to think they were all ding-dongs. Yes, I have been an uppity self-centered better-than jerk faced creep, still can be. I found I decided who and what they were about without knowing anything about them or their lives. Thing is it seems every time I do the judging thing God steps in and cold-cocks me.

My wife’s Aunt Gloria is one of the most hip, liberal vegan’s you would ever want to meet. She is the total opposite of me in female form. However because of Auntie Glo and my walk with Christ I have learned some valuable lessons. Auntie Glo and I really enjoy talking about all types of literature and business, home improvements and celebrities. I have grown to love her dearly and it has changed who I am. I would drop a big ole double meat burger at a rally for a Republican talking about gun control to help her fix her toilet or replace an energy saving federally mandated fluorescent bulb at her home if she asked. She is one of the most tolerant, loving people I have ever known. She has put up with me and my gun toting, meat eating, spawn for years. She is awesome and I have changed.

Because of this softening of my spirit I have found as of recent I enjoy the input from my hip brethren here in Austin today. I was in trouble with my wife not long ago and knew a date night would be a big step in getting my foot removed from my mouth. She accepted and I took her to the big Whole Foods in downtown Austin. We casually walked each isle and selected interesting fruits, chocolates and breads. We sampled new things and talked to the employees about the foods and vitamins. My wife knows a lot about that stuff already and I had a marvelous time learning about it all. We have since visited several other healthy food stores in our area and truly enjoy it.

I will never again have the hair I did back in the day and the whole “waxin, flaxin” thing I am sure is out. I won’t be changing my views on liberal politics or meat any time soon. I do however want to reflect the lessons of Paul in his letter to the Romans -

12:9 Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. 10: Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. 11: Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. 12: Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. 13: Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality. 14: Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. 15: Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. 16: Live in harmony with one another.

I am trying, really I am. Till we meet at the tofu section, Peace out ya’ll.
TJ

Man Tears

2009-08-31T14:11:00.000-07:00

This week church was packed when we got there. There was only one service at 11am and I was frustrated we were late, how could that be? We were supposed to meet a boy from our youth club and his family there but finding a seat for the family was all I could do being this late. This time it was not in our usual front left, five or six rows back, it was center section to the right near the front.

When we go to church on Sunday it is an all morning into the afternoon event. We try to get there by 9 a.m. and out by about 1 p.m.. It used to be impossible for me to even consider spending that much time at church. I remember when I was a kid we did the obligatory hour at church then straight home. My brother and I would have contests to see who could get out of our church clothes and into play clothes fastest. I don’t remember anyone who went to my church, the things we did or lessons learned. I am sure we did, it was just not a priority.

Now I don’t want to go to a church where I don’t feel like I am home. I want my friends to be there with me, I want to do life with my church. I realized not long ago that almost all of my friends are from my church. We plan time together, we meet for coffee, we hunt and fish together, we share our pain and passions with each other, real life.

I have heard many times folks that say they don’t need to go to church because they are fine with God and He isn’t in a building. They tell me they don’t want to be a part of a religion. I tell them I agree. I tell them I want a relationship with my God, not a religion too.

When you like golf you hang out at the golf course, you play golf, you watch golf on TV and you begin to surround yourself with friends who understand and enjoy all that is Golf. It is that way in most everything we are passionate about in our lives. I happen to believe when you love the Lord, when you truly seek Him in your life and how you can live for Him, you want to go to church. Now I suppose you could find other ways to fulfill the inner desire to be the best you can be, but the bible has a pretty good track record.

My wife saw them first, when I looked over they were standing right next our pastor, front row. He saw me looking and tapped the boy on the shoulder and pointed me out. I waved to him, his sister and grandpa. When they looked away I began to cry.

I am passionate about God in my life and how He has worked. I want to share the blessing of how living with Him as a guide in all areas makes life so much more rewarding. I really wanted this boy’s grandfather and sister to begin coming to church and feel the love and support that a church family can offer, to do life on that level with them.

If you look at my calendar you would think I am a pretty busy guy. I have a lot of business projects going on in a lot of areas and I love checking things off my to-do list. I spent plenty of years working from sunrise into the wee hours of the night. I am not a financially wealthy guy but I have built and sold a couple businesses, sat on some pretty important boards and was media manager for a multibillion dollar company. Thing is I never feel more fulfilled than when I participate in a church program, talk with someone in need, share Christ with them or when I spend quiet time in prayer.

I trust those who lead my church and that they are teaching me things I need to know to be a better husband, dad, and friend. The bumps and hick-ups I face each day are different than they were before I committed to a new way of doing life. The rewards for teaching that boy and his family about the Lord are so much more than a building made of brick or any physical thing I could possibly acquire with money.

My dear friend and my previous pastor Bob told me once, “when you teach people about God you can affect their lives for eternity.” That is a pretty good return on investment if you ask me and if there is a legacy to leave, that is the one I want.

Well, Well, Well - French Cooking Rescues Hollywood

2009-08-19T22:16:00.000-07:00

If you follow this blog at all you know I had a very bad taste in my mouth over the recent Transformers movie. I thought it was crafted by lazy writers and exploited children. I think I said I felt the retailers and food chains using the movie as a marketing tool were also subsurface mucus. Basically, I thought it was disgusting.

Again, I am not the big movie buff at my house, my wife is. I do on occasion see a movie trailer that intrigues me and if the wife and I go to the theatre I push for the one that I thought I might like. On a rare convergence of the moon and stars we both agreed recently on the movie Julie and Julia, the new Meryl Streep movie.

OK, so guys are thinking what a chick flick dude, what were you thinking? To that I respond in a couple ways, first, I wanted to see it so shut up. The other is I just thought it would be a well done movie and I was looking for Hollywood to prove me wrong about my most recent evaluation. I don’t know if I am aligned with Streep and her political beliefs, but I can’t think of any that would keep me from going to her movies. Now forget it if it has Tom Cruise or Woopie Goldburg or a handful of others, I am not going.

The movie was the convergence of two wonderful memoirs, My Life in France by Julie Child and the blogs by young budding writer Julie Powell who worked through Child’s famous cookbook Mastering the Art of French Cooking. The movie was exceptionally well written and the two cuss words were not out of character, nor inappropriate for an adult rated movie. I love the actors, especially Streep who has got to be one of the most brilliant actors in the business. I don’t know if I have seen many movies where she did not stand out. Her accent and portrayal had me believing that that she was Julia Child.

I laughed through the movie and found at the end I was wanting more. The film did what I consider the purpose of a movie, to move you emotionally, entertain, create an enjoyable experience and not insult your intelligence. I want to be lead into an experience with a film, not tricked into the theatre.

I won’t take back my comments about the other movie I referenced at the top of this blog, it was bad. I am however reconsidering the industry as a whole. There are exceptionally well crafted films out there that deserve to be seen. Julia and Julia is one of them. Thanks to Nora Epheron who wrote the screenplay and directed the film, fabulous.

I am glad to see the talents of Julie Powell, Meryl Streep, Nora Ephron and Amy Adams recognized and that they collaborated in a film that inspires. This movie just makes everything a little bit better. I am keeping one eye open where the liberal west coast movie makers are concerned, but for now I am inspired and I must get back to de-boning my duck, bon appetite ya’ll.

Green Projects Turn Brown on the Vine

2009-08-04T10:00:00.000-07:00

I could never figure out how our current president was going to generate millions of new jobs, green jobs. It all sounds nice, but I just could not see millions of folks building and installing solar screens on houses, changing out toilets or working on the giant wind turbines in West Texas.

Turns out I was right. The whole green energy movement is falling apart. Billionaire and businessman T. Boone Pickens spent $60 million of his own money buying advertising across the country to promote wind energy. He has millions tied up in the big wind turbines and has hundreds of them “in his garage.” Millions and millions of dollars invested in materials and land leases, but it is not going to happen, not right now. This is a guy who knows the industry, knows how to make money and has proven it over and over again.

I was reading recently that there is a global cooling going on right now. You would not know that by the mercury in my outside thermometer today, but, statistically, it has been cooling down.
The Big 8 Summit is where all the biggest countries come together to work on mutual projects to better the world. They flat out dumped the global warming hoax out the back door. This is all that crazy and expensive stuff that has earned Al Gore a huge home, a private plane and a rock star world tour lifestyle.

Greenpeace activists were recently arrested for hanging a banner on Mount Rushmore. The banner asked Obama to step up to the plate and lead on the global warming front. This came just one day after the Big 8 rejected the hype. If Greenpeace really wanted to make a difference, they could build water cisterns for elk in the park or replant native grasses. They could work with Texas Parks and Wildlife coordinating efforts to monitor fish kills caused by toxic golden alga or a hundred other constructive hands on projects. These things will cause change and create a greener, better world.

Next you can see the price of gas is going up. Depending on whom you ask, the reasons vary. But what most people do know is that the government is trying to get us all in smaller vehicles and they are forcing the automakers to add equipment to every vehicle that can be very expensive. Problem here is if you look around in rural America, small cars won’t get the job done. They won’t.

I am a conservationist and care for people. I spend a lot of time managing wildlife populations, feeding the hungry and caring for the land and waters I frequent. I spend a lot of time teaching kids how to harvest foods and care for the ranches and parks they visit. I dare say I may do more hands-on work, more conservation work that improves the planet and helps the animals, including humans, than most of the PETA or the National Wildlife Association volunteers.

You see, it is about getting your hands dirty. It is about personally experiencing the lifecycle and how land reacts to our use. God made this really neat little system of checks and balances that work. Expending energy and money on a banner hanging from Mount Rushmore is never going to do what a well in Africa or a field of native grass will do. Long-term results, planning and careful thought.

Most of the folks I know who do conservation work do it for the love of the land and animals that live there. They don’t care about media attention; they care about nature. They care about teaching kids how to get out there and do something good for the planet, never looking for a pat on the back. They do it because it is right. What are you doing today?

Transformers Transforming Our Kids?

2009-07-21T18:23:00.000-07:00

There are some amazing things they pull off in today’s movies. I love the animation and the camera work. I really enjoy some of the creative ideas and even the remakes of a lot of the classic films and books, great stuff. My wife is really the movie buff at our home, she remembers the names of the stars and the movies they played in. She also knows who is dating who. I know John Wayne when I see him, Steve Martin, maybe a few others. I know John Wayne is dead but no clue who Steve is dating.

Recently I took my 11-year-old son to see the new blockbuster Transformers. There was a lot of cool animation and special effects. There was also a lot of offensive language and sexual references that just made no sense to me at all. The bad language came from all sides and I could not once, not once, accept it as part of the plot line or as a necessary part of the action. The sexual connotations were also unwarranted and could have been left out without affecting the story line.

I have written scripts for television, radio and other video media, the last client did 2.5 billion a year in sales and their TV scripts were very important to them. I never once found the need to include anything even close to what the movie Transformers had as what seemed to be a staple by the writers. As a writer I wonder how they could be that hard up for a story line or just lacking an educated vocabulary.

Now you take this movie and the offensive parts and feed that to kids through the mega meal deals at the fast food restaurants and soft drinks, you feed it to them every 15 minutes on the kid’s channels on TV and you have everyone convinced it is OK and kid friendly.

This movie is only a small part the transforming of the American culture to a lewd, selfish, uneducated and all me society. Take ABC Family channel, who made that up? That channel has some of the worst shows you would ever want to expose your children to, namely promiscuous teenager’s alamode. Is that really how people want their kids to act, really?

I have a friend who home schools his family and they don’t have TV or any of the internet or video things in their home that transport this type of information. I really thought he was off his rocker when I first met him. I am not so sure he is not making the right decisions now. He feeds his kids at a slower more deliberate pace. It makes a lot more sense to me the more I think about it.

This is not unusual or new. Society as a whole has hungered and accepted the next perverted or dangerous act for years. We have allowed the content to permeate our families, the schools, politics and it goes on and on.

Hey, I am no perfect angel. I catch myself being drawn into these shows and I slip and use language I am not proud of. I don’t hold folks up who get caught up in the heat of the moment. I do however dislike the planning and executing of language and sex in places where kids will be exposed to it. Yes, I know, so don’t take your kids to that stuff then you hypocrite, I can hear it and it is true. Maybe next time I will prepare myself better, be a better parent and guardian. I pray for Gods wisdom and strength for that every day.

Mean Old Guy.......

2009-06-23T14:35:00.000-07:00

I have told of my grumpy and self-absorbed spirit before. I am not sure where it comes from but it is a fight I have had with myself for years. Many times folks will complain they have been mistreated one way or another to justify their mood or disposition. For me, I am a 50-year-old adult male. From here on out if I have a problem, it is my problem. It is up to me to fix it or change.

One Sunday not long ago I was in one of those not real cheerful moods and I walked into church, stood there, then walked back out. That day I had my wife’s little jeep and the top was off. I got in the jeep and just started driving.

When you have the top down on a jeep, the radio or music is not much of an option. As I headed out into the countryside it was just me, the sun and God cruising along. Now I believe if you listen God will speak to you. It can be in all types of ways, sometimes even audible. On that Sunday as I was asking Him to please help me figure out why I was so mad, He spoke. He said go buy a can of Coke. Not the bottle of diet Coke with lime that I like, it was a can of regular ole Coke.

I was pretty far out into the country driving down a small paved road thinking I needed to find an old country store and get the Coke. The sun was warm and the air was cool. Just ahead of me I saw the top of a small white church, I passed it slowly and noticed the door was open and there were two cars out front. Up and around the curve and there was a highway. I turned right and quickly found a convenience store. I walked in slowly and purchased the soda. All the time I was wondering if I should buy a lottery ticket or if someone was going to walk up to me and say something profound to change my life. Nothing.

I got back in the Jeep, pulled to the gas pumps and filled it up. Nothing, nobody. I eased out of the drive and headed back to my country road. Then He started to speak again, He told me to go back to that church. What, what was He talking about. But the Jeep turned and I ended up in the grass and gravel area in front of the tiny church. I pulled under a tree, motor running and sipped on the drink. I told myself I had no business being there and there was no way I was going near a strange little church in the country. Then He spoke again.

He told me to go introduce myself to the two older men on the porch. Reluctantly I backed up and parked, got out and walked to the porch. There on the white painted porch I met the pastor and one of his congregation. I told them I had no idea why I was there but I did not want to be at my church that day and I wanted to at least be nice and say hi. The next thing I knew I was sitting in a pew in the back of the church when service started.

All six or seven of the men met up front, invited me up and then prayed before the service. We all sat back down and several of the ladies began to sing and it was beautiful. The pastor introduced a member who spoke that day on how he had been blessed recently and how he knew it was only by the grace of God and the presence of the Holy Spirit that he was there speaking.

I introduced myself at the end of the service and gave thanks for the Lords direction. I drove home back down that country road and into the bustling city. I was overcome with Gods hand on my shoulder that day. He helped me realize another piece of who He needs me to be, who I need to be. Eight strangers spoke into my life words of wisdom and grace, kindness and love.
We all have demons and life experiences in our closets. We all have hardships and struggles, all of us. Now you may think the guy with money or a pretty wife doesn’t have near as bad, it is all relative. The one thing we can all do that is the same is to choose to not go there. We can all choose to pray for God to give us the wisdom and heart to change who we are and how we are. He can do it, I know He can.

As far as that Coke in the can that day, I don’t have a clue. Maybe I was just thirsty, maybe I needed the extra sugar boost, maybe God will reveal it later. All I can say for sure is the soda was good, the church service was as close to God as I have been in a long time and one day, in the not too distant future, I will be back sitting in a pew at the small white church in the country.

God also spoke to me that day and reminded me that (Proverbs 29:11) A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control…….

Friends

2009-06-03T09:06:00.000-07:00

The thesaurus here on my laptop says that a friend can be a pal, a buddy, acquaintance, comrade and even colleague, helper and ally. My friend from Australia calls me Nancy, I think its a term of endearment from his side of the globe. I call him Bubba.

I don’t think I make a very good friend for the most part. I don’t always remember birthdays or special events. I don’t call regularly just to check in and see how people are doing. I have friends that do, guy friends, they are awesome that way. Honestly, it seems for me, life just goes by and I don’t think about it. I try to put it off as a guy thing but that really won’t get it because some do.

I hear that on Facebook , Twitter, Myspace etc., all those social networks, it is about how many friends you can gather. There are a lot of television and media types who have millions of friends. I do understand that is just a term for fan or obsessed person with nothing else to do. But I bet there are those who feel that they are truly connected to that person on a more intimate level, their buddy, pal. I bet it even become more of a problem for celebrities and their fans wanting to get “closer” be cuase they follow them on “twits, or tweets, or peeps” – or whatever they are called.

Jesus had a lot of folks who followed Him and helped Him. I think He probably considered many of them friends and loved them for caring about Him and others. His fab 12 were closest to Him. They shared intimate conversations and I can just see them walking for hours down an old dusty road, hot, thirsty, sweaty. “Man it’s hot out.” “Yea.” “Do we have far to go.” “Not sure.” “Man it’s hot out.” “Yea.” Friends can have a conversation like that and it is fine, especially guys, friends just know each other.

Ladies friendships are so way beyond what most guys can muster. They have to plan time together. They talk for hours about things that they talked about just a week before, or an hour ago. They get excited if they meet another woman and might have a new friend in their circle, a new “best friend.” They can brush each other’s hair or share clothes. I don’t know if any of my buddies have ever asked to borrow a shirt to match his boots and belt, well maybe, but just once.

For my best and closest friends we have an unwritten bond, one that time and life have no power over. It is just there (our friendship) and it only takes a minute or two once we are together or talking to hit our stride from 20 or 30 years before. I have other friends who I have not know as long but we love each other’s company, we laugh and joke. I smile thinking about them in my life today. And there are friends who I think we just like each other. We don’t necessarily see each other often or hang at each others homes, but we could.

The human has an innate desire for friendship. They want to be cared for and care for others. Even the worst of the worst crave to be bonded with others in some way.

Thanks, thanks to everyone who came to my 50th bitrthday bash and grillathon. I am amazed at how many folks care enough for me, call me a friend and take a day of their time to come and tell me. Thanks ya’ll.

Friends are more important to me as each day passes. Lord help me to be a better friend to those friends I have now and those friends I have yet to meet.

The Road Less Travelled

2009-05-28T07:13:00.000-07:00

When we were growing up my father took us around the country in the old family station wagon. To this day, I believe the adventures we had on those weekends and during the summer are a big part of why I write about, and have a passion for, the outdoors.

The old family station wagon was well before everyone had a pickup, Mini Van or SUV. They were the original SUV Mini Van. We took it up and down the narrow mountain passes. We drove through the giant sequoia tree in Yosemite National Park before it fell in 1969. We sat in the backseat, facing backwards and making faces at the cars behind us.

Mom used to tell us all kinds of things to keep us quiet like, “Chew on a saltine cracker long enough it will turn into sugar.” “If you’re not quiet we will just put you out right here.” We played the “I Spy” game for hours, colored and read books until we were nauseated. And we just stared out the window watching the world and listening to mom and dad talk about all kinds of things.

Dad built a homemade camping trailer. The trailer was flat with compartments that fit different items, like the Coleman stove, tent, food and ice chest. Everything had its place and it worked really well.

I remember once on summer vacation as we sat on the mountainside, a storm in the valley let loose a tornado. We watched it as it whipped and tore through the fields. I was so frightened. My mom and dad explained if it came up close we would lie down in the ditch and it would go right over us. They knew it would not come up the mountain and it didn’t. To this day I wonder if you lie in a ditch if a tornado will just go over the top of you.

On that same campsite on the same trip we had a bear chase a ground squirrel over our tent. It happened in the middle of the night and when we woke the next day we saw the bear paw prints and some punctures on our tent just above where I was sleeping. To this day we have that tent and the paw prints are on it.

America has a long list of must-see landmarks and parks. Rural life is where my heart is. I love driving the back roads through the small towns. I am also one who is not afraid to eat at the mom and pop café. For me, the old saying, “You spend the first half of your life trying to get off the farm and the second half trying to get back to it,” fits, except I was raised in the city. I have an inner longing for the simple things life offers; they seem more rewarding or real.

Thinking, dreaming, pondering, wonder, adventure, prayer, discovery, quiet and simple are all words I want more of in my life. I want my kids to learn to seek adventure and contemplate God in their lives. When Jesus was feeling overwhelmed from his adventures or just needed quiet time, He headed for the mountain, outside, away from the hustle and bustle of healing and preaching and sharing life. He needed to have quiet time with His Father and time to recharge.

When I travel, I get excited to see just who God is going to put in my path. An old shop clerk, a farmer, a shrimper, a couple kids on four-wheelers, each with a story if you are interested and listen. This summer, take some time to explore. Take a Saturday morning or Sunday afternoon drive. Check out a small highway through the country without the radio on. Stop in a small town and have a soda or buy some vegetables along the town square. Listen for God to lead you and know that we live in the best country on earth, and if you are with me, in Texas, the best state in America -- I’m a native. I can say that. Be grateful for the ability to move about freely and without fear. Take the “Road Less Traveled,” see who is there, amazing.

Pot Scrubber

2009-04-30T12:23:00.000-07:00

There are certain things that, as a man, I feel required to do or be responsible for around the house. When the toilet gets clogged up, I get the call. When the yard has branches or fencing problems, it is mine. Most of the things my wife or kids could do, but they are left to me because they are outside. All that is fine because I like my time in the yard and I like accomplishing things then sitting back and looking at the results -- many times with a cigar in hand.

My wife has certain things she does that are hers. There are things that she does not want me to touch, and, honestly, I don’t want to touch them. She likes to clean the house. She likes dusting and spraying cleaners and organizing. She will tell you it is therapeutic with a smile on her face.
Before we got married I kept an impeccable house. I was ultra organized, had the laundry done nightly, cooked and cleaned with gusto. It seems not long after we were married those skill sets began to wane then continued a downward spiral to almost nothing. I never intentionally meant to turn over the cleaning and laundry to my wife, it just happened. Don’t misunderstand, I still get asked to help and those times I get asked, I better perform.

There was a period in my life when I spent a lot of time listening to motivational speakers. I had a handful whom I really enjoyed and got me fired up. Motivational speakers can be very positive influences in your life, and if you were to pick up on any one lesson chances are you would grow personally or in business. The two I really enjoyed the most were Brian Tracy and Zig Ziglar.
Brian Tracy really taught me some skills when it comes to selling and professional relationships. I must have worn out two cassette tape series listening to them over and over in my truck. He also taught me how to be organized and efficient with your time -- that I am still working on 15 years later.

Zig Ziglar is my favorite because he uses wonderful personal stories and visual aids to get his point across. For years he carried around a big chrome hand water pump that he would get to cranking up and down to demonstrate a point that I can’t remember.

I do remember one thing in particular that Zig did say that in the last few months, 15 years later, I have begun to implement with conviction. It is not a sales tool or a marketing angle, not really. Zig said he never lets his wife wash the big pots and pans. If she used a big frying pan, stew pot or anything big like that, he hand washed it, dried it and put it away. He was adamant about this.

I started to do this at our house. It can really be a drag on some days. Recently when my wife very lovingly put something in the oven to warm up for dinner, she forgot there was a plastic tray under the foil. The house filled with smoke and the plastic dripped and covered all the racks and bottom of the oven. I rushed in as she worried about the fire and mess. I immediately began the clean-up process that took several hours but resulted in a sparkling clean oven. I guess the oven is a giant pot of sorts anyway.

I know I can always do a little more to help around the inside of the house. This one little gesture, cleaning the pots, has been unspoken to date but then I am not doing it for a pat on the back or a thank you. I need, I want, to be a good husband and the knight in shining armor for my biggest cheerleader. We have a joke around our house that the sock fairy always delivers clean socks right before our drawers are empty. Now I am not one who believes in fairy tales and the likes, but that one is one I am going to believe in as long as I can. If it takes getting to that mystical land of clean and wonderful smelling laundry by including a few inside chores to my side of the list, I’m in.

Bacon, Coffee and a Memory

2009-04-21T07:05:00.000-07:00

The six senses are amazing. They can bring you to a place of long ago or create a tab in your life book that you can go back to and savor, morn or reflect on.

Sounds or music can spur a memory that makes you sad or happy. Lots of people can hear a song and get nostalgic. I remember running away from home when I was in Junior High and I rode a bus all the way to Lake Jackson, Texas. At the time it seemed like a thousand miles, really it was maybe 60 or 70. There was a specific girl who I had a crush on that had left our neighborhood and moved there. When I got to her moms apartment I was met by her older sister who told me she was inside with her new boyfriend and I could not go in. I sat on the steps outside and listened as Elton John’s Mad Man Across the Water played through their windows. To this day when I hear music off that record I feel something, sad I guess, it almost always brings me back there.

Seeing something can create a Déjà vu effect that triggers emotions. It is not uncommon to be sensitive to certain things you see that move you to emotion because of your interpretation as a kid. Past experiences with people, places or things can spur you to happiness, sadness, fear. When I see a kid being ignored by an adult I get frustrated, even mad. I remember when I was growing up and it was “kids are made to be seen not heard.” I grew up longing for someone to talk to, not another kid but a grown up. Today I find myself drawn into ministry with boys who are hungry to talk to an adult. Something about seeing a kid being ignored gets me all worked up.

Feeling the soft flannel of a sheet or a shirt, the feeling of a fresh washed pair of favorite jeans can make you feel good. It feels like a Saturday morning with nothing ahead of you but the day. When I feel my wife’s hair after it has just been washed, soft, smooth and silky makes me feel good. I also love to get my back scratched. I remember as a kid begging mom to scratch my back every night and to never stop. Human contact is imperative to life. Touch.

Two of my favorite sensory alerts are from the nose and both of these can typically be found in the mornings. The smell of bacon and the smell of fresh brewing coffee. When I come into the kitchen in the morning and the coffee is already started and the aroma is all about it makes me happy. I don’t have any specific memory or occasion when it became such a feel good sensation but it is one I truly enjoy.

Bacon, yes that lovely pork product. You can wrap bacon around a rock and I will enjoy every bite. Bacon is one of those smells I can catch from miles across a mountain valley coming from a hunt camp in the timber. Once while hunting early one morning in the hill country it crept into my deer blind from the next ranch over, I had to leave the blind early to go eat at our camp.
I truly believe God gives us these extra special tools to use for his good. They can bring us to a special place we may not see but we feel. They can be hurtful sometimes but I do a lot of hard work on myself when I am hurting – a lot of big hit songs came from pain.

Thanks Lord for the sensations I am blessed with and the emotions that come with them. I pray I use the gifts you have given me to honor You. Lord help me slow down to “smell the coffee” each day and oh yea, thanks for bacon.

Broken Cars and Chocolate

2009-04-07T20:01:00.000-07:00

It is never good to find a pool of liquid under your vehicle. I know on hot days if you have been running the air conditioner it can be nothing, but most other days, grrrrrrr.

That is exactly what happened Monday morning. The night before I noticed a spot on the driveway, I am a guy, I see those things. I decided it was most likely from someone else’s vehicle because we had a lot of folks over that night. The next morning I pulled up in a different spot and when I got out there was a drip under my engine. I know very little about vehicles but I did know that it was not oil but most likely water from my water pump. Crud, that can be an expensive fix especially on a ¾ ton diesel pickup.

Life goes into a holding pattern for me when a vehicle goes down. I drive a lot and many times out in the middle of nowhere. That is not where you want to break down. Many of the roads have nothing but a ditch to either side. I can’t take that chance and I sure don’t want my wife calling me with car problems when I am out of town.

It took a few phone calls but I had an appointment to have it repaired that afternoon. On one hand it was a blessing, on the other I did not know how I was going to pay for it. I thought I would figure that out as I went along. Stuck at home I was not going to get anything done.
The shop I took it to was on one of the oldest streets in Austin, Texas, Congress. Luckily for me it was at the beginning of the newly revived eclectic parts. Vintage clothing stores, health food shops and coffee houses line the street on both sides. I left the car with the mechanic and strapped on my backpack with my laptop and took off to explore. It was urban exploration at its finest.

My first stop was the resale shop by the Society of Saint Vincent DePaul. I spent and hour looking a worn t-shirts and old records. I could not find a thing I needed but it was cool inside and I had nothing else to do, what the heck. I had a few shirts I thought I would buy until the very end when I put them back and left to continue my exploration.

I walked all the way to the end of the shops on one side then crossed and started back on the opposite side. The shop I was drawn into on that side was the candy & soda shop. I explored each shelf and admired the old candy boxes on display. I could taste the cherry sours, the Clark bars, the Necco’s and the licorice. Now the doctor told me to back off sugar but that just highlighted my cravings. You know what I mean?

I could not resist a handmade root beer and some apple, bacon, smoked chocolate. I made my purchase and found a metal chair along the sidewalk in front of a small city grocery and relaxed with my treasures. I drank every drop of the soda. I saved most of the chocolate for my daughter who just happened to be playing a softball game around the corner right when they finished the truck.

Yes, the day started out pretty crummy, but it turned out good. I realized that the time I had exploring was really a neat chance to think, and pray and be out of my normal element, it opened me up for a great conversation with God. We had a nice chat and maybe our relationship will be a little stronger, I will be a little more open. I sure do need it.

Books

2009-03-30T08:39:00.000-07:00

I did not grow up a reader. I can only remember a few books, one or two, that I read as a child in school. I grew up in a normal school and home setting for the most part, but I don’t remember being a family that read. I had friends along the way that I noticed devoured books and I envied them.

Danny was one of those friends. His parents were well read and they were smart. They talked about politics and things going on in the world. They also read the bible. To this day Danny reads every night before he goes to sleep.

Somewhere along the way, in my mid twenties, I began to read. I think it was Danny who inspired me to read again and the first books I chose. I started reading the James Clavel series Shogun, Taipan and the others. Then I read a couple huge books on mergers and corporate takeovers rolling straight into a series of business biographies. These were all long reads and each time I completed one it became a special trophy, an accomplishment I was very proud of.
When I had my birthday recently I got a book from my wife, Wilderness Challenge by William G. Collins. I read that book over the weekend and loved it. It is now on my favorites list. Another favorite is Waiting for White Horses by Nathan Jorgenson. Both these books took me on an adventure, moved me to thought and emotion. Those are the things I look for in a book. Interestingly these were both first book for the authors.

Reading is a lost art to many. I have a friend, Ben Raider, who is an author. He has written a series of really funny books built around a game warden and his adventures. The problem that he and I have talked about many times is that it is hard to get the guys who would enjoy his books to read them. Outdoor guys are good on magazines, but not necessarily books. I remember once at an event we had tons of kids coming by our booths. He had books, I had stickers and pencils. The kids avoided him and flocked to the free stuff we had. By the end of the weekend we were laughing as he tried to coax kids in to see some literature. A book. They were confused and all but interested. Sad but true.

My kids have been read to almost every night since they were small. They are now good readers. I give that credit to my wife. Her consistency has paid off in dividends that will give to them for life. I love it when they read and tell me about their books. I will buy them almost any book they want to read. I actually have found a used book online is a great buy and I buy them a lot.

I could always read more. I should read more. When I read a book I love to feel it, to laugh and cry and be excited to get back to it. I love the feeling of not wanting to be interrupted or rushing back to it after a day of work or a distraction.

Coming from a high school drop-out background Satan always tries to convince me I am not worthy or smart, but he is wrong. The Lord has blessed me with the ability to read, the gift of emotion and a world of books, including His. I can read the bible everyday and understand something new.

Now I wear reading glasses and they can be a hassle. I have electronic distractions everywhere; I carry one on my side (Blackberry phone). But there is nothing like a book, a story on paper that takes you somewhere, teaches you something or just makes you feel good. So remember what my good buddy Ben Raider says, “Hey kids look, literature – it’s OK”.

Take a minute, enjoy that quiet time. Enjoy the adventure of a book.

The Cowboy Way

2009-03-12T07:55:00.000-07:00

I love stories of strong willed resolute people. I hear these tales many times when I talk to our older generations. I hear stories of kids who woke up early to milk the cows then off to school all day then home to work till dark each night. I hear of long days at the office where men built businesses and careers from nothing. I hear of time spent reading, writing (with a pencil) and talking. People set forth to accomplish things and they would not look up until they were complete. Change their lives, change their living conditions just change what needed to be changed.

Today it seems we are getting soft around the waste and in how much we can handle. Society as a whole seems to look for the easy way out. Don’t hear me wrong because I know many who work their fingers to the bone, who love with all their hearts and set their minds to get things done and do. There are those who want everyone to have it easy and comfortable even if they do not do their part, they want others to pick up the slack and make it all better.

Winn McClure grew up ranching and living the “cowboy way”. McClure lives in West Texas and to this day works his cattle ranch, he is 80-years-old. He lives each day with droughts and fences, cattle feed and coyotes, fresh air and quiet time away from everything. When I sat and talked with him recently we talked about God, morals and habits. At one point our conversation turned to smoking. McClure had smoked the old brands of cigarettes that were filter-less and pure nicotine. Four packs a day at his peak. Now anything you do that many times a day then add in an addictive chemical element over many years will hook you.

McClure had a wonderful spin on how he quit cigarettes that got me to thinking about how tough we are and determined as a society today. “Back in 1959,” was how he started his story. “Back then we lived in Odessa and one cold winter afternoon I ran out of smokes.” His wife was in the kitchen making Christmas candy when McClure announced he was out of cigarettes. “Well go to town and get some and get me some raw peanuts for the candy,” she said matter of factly. So he headed into town.

When McClure got to the store they were out of raw peanuts. “I asked for my regular carton of smokes and they told me that would be $3. Three dollars, I told him he was crazy, I would never pay that much for a carton of cigarettes. Then he told me my wife had been paying that for years. I didn’t know cause I never did the grocery shopping. That was it – I told them right then and there if they were gonna cost that much I would just quit.”

That day McClure quit smoking and never started back. I have quit a few unhealthy habits but I don’t think I ever just quit something with that much resolve. I usually squirm and whine as I suffer through it. I just thought what he did was so classic, hard-nosed, set in their ways old timer tough. I have heard ranchers and country folks tell me all types of stories like his. Stories of strong willed individualism and determination for good.

As Americans I don’t think we will ever lose our drive and will to push ahead, not everyone. There will always be mavericks and innovators, winners and losers. No matter where we go as a society we will have men and women who will not fit the mold or settle for less.

The bible tells us stories of those who lived and died because they made a decision and would not waiver. They were convicted of their faith and determined to share that with others. While facing certain death, sitting in prison and even Jesus as he was beaten and crucified stood for what he believed, made the choice to stand in the gap, speak out, to die for what is right. Mr. McClure quit smoking and that was that, done. I pray I can teach my kids to reach for the brass ring, to stretch, to strive to be a winner. I pray my kids are not afraid to share their faith with others and make hard choices. To this day I believe there is something to be said for “the cowboy way.”

By By Blackie

2009-02-26T21:43:00.000-08:00

You know there are always things that just seem to become a fixture in your life. Some people have an old shirt, some it’s a chair or a car – things. I have a couple t-shirts that I just cannot give up and they are more comfortable than ever. I don’t wear them in public.

I had a jacket I got after my dad died that I loved. The jacket was leather and it looked a lot like the one worn by Indiana Jones. I actually bought a hat and wore Kaki pants with it every Halloween. One day my bride was clearing out the closet of coats to donate to Coats for Kids and the coat went away. I was so upset. I went that night to the coats warehouse and sifted through thousands of coats to find it and never could. To this day we just don’t talk about it. She didn’t realize what it meant to me and I guess God wanted to bless someone else with it.

One of the first things I did when I moved to Austin was to buy a fishing boat. It was a new, sleek bass boat and I ordered it to match my truck perfectly. My oldest son Cody and I spent years on that ole boat fishing, cruising, hanging out. We got in all kinds of trouble when I would pull him out of school to fish. We laughed when we would get in trouble for him missing a school day or come in late off the water because we just didn’t want to come in. I remember after a long day the drive was quiet and he would ask me if he could rest his eyes. He never wanted to “sleep” if he was with me, just rest his eyes. He would fall asleep in a flash.

One Christmas I bought Cody a pony. Cody was maybe 8 and I hid the pony in the garage, it was a cool Christmas. Blackie was a stubborn little fat black pony. We had a saddle and all the gear. Cody and the kids in the neighborhood would ride him everywhere. It was a little boys dream come true. I forget now all the hassles that came along with him, just the good memories. It was a sad day when we had to finally sell him and the folks drove off down the street with him in their trailer.

That ole bass boat was black. We kept in the garage and took very good care of it. I bought it in 1987. The last few years’ life being what it is I had not gone out in it much. Cody, now 25, began fishing bass tournaments and bought his own home. I gave him the boat. He has used it the last few years to hone his fishing skills and is now a very good tournament bass angler.

Time being what it is, a robber of newness and mechanical health we decided it was maybe time to sell the boat and move on. Last night Cody called and said, “Dad, Blackie is gone. Remember when we watched Blackie (the pony) drive down the street? That is how I feel right now.” I knew what he was feeling.

Cody needs a different boat and I was proud he took such good care of her while he had her. He sold the boat to a nice young man and we hope it serves him well. Things don’t mean much in the end. The memories made on that boat are precious and bonded us close. Thanks Lord for Blackie and the bass boat. Thanks Lord for Cody. Thanks Cody for being a great son. I love you.

Frig in' Dog Thieves

2009-02-17T08:26:00.000-08:00

She called my cell from the posting I put on Craigslist looking for information. The story she told me made me really mad. This lady and her young daughter lost their small dog, a Chihuahua I think, just a couple weeks before she called me. The small dog squeezed out of the fenced backyard just moments after he was let out to go to the bathroom. They worked hard putting up posters and posting online, going to the pound every other day. Finally after a week or so she took a new batch of flyer's out and this time she stopped at the large pet retailer in the strip center not far from her home. Here is where I get mad, as she was asking the clerk for permission and telling her story, describing the dog, the clerk next to her perked up and shared about a recent customer she had.

The new customer was a middle age white lady. She came to the register with a cart full of everything you need to make a new dog comfy. A cute bed, food bowls, food, toys, blankets even little sweaters and booties. She talked all about her new dog and how cute he was. She told how she found the little booger walking alone down the road and she saved him. That was it, she rescued him and decided he was hers for the keeping.

Ranger and Lilly were our dogs since my kids were little. Lilly was a wonderful female black lab we got one Easter in the parking lot of a local grocery. The family giving away the puppies assured me she came from a long bloodline of great hunting dogs, sold me. She was as sweet as any dog could be. Ranger was a Father’s Day gift from my wife and kids after I had to put down Bud. Ranger was a full blood Sheppard with all the brains of a turnip but a heart the size of a watermelon. He was, is, however a compulsive fetcher of anything that is not bolted down.

We live next to a park and on occasion the dogs would find their way out, always returning filthy and tired, sometimes covered with skunk or porcupine. They were, are, good dogs and we have been trying to find them since 9/11/2008 when they got out. We have posted on Craigslist, at the pound, and still to this day put out huge posters all over. We still have hope.

Not long ago I got a call just minutes after putting up a poster on near our home. A guy and his kids just picked up two dogs and were taking them to their house. I turned around and rushed to a parking lot to meet them. They were not our dogs, they were big, cute pups, maybe a year or so. The guy said in passing “well I guess I will take them home.” His kids were overly excited about “their “ new dogs. I asked him to please post on Craigslist and call the pound. He said he did not know about any Craigslist and said he would try to find the owners, I have my doubts.

One bright spot from this whole thing was all the loving and kind calls from folks who thought they found Lilly and Ranger, saw them or just giving us tips. It is amazing how many folks care for pets that are not their own. God has a special place for these folks who through their kindness have lifted our family up and cared.

I know someone has Ranger and Lilly. I know the people who have them have not gone to the pound to see if anyone lost them and they have not posted or looked on Craigslist. I guess now, after almost 7 months we have to think about moving on. I pray that our dogs have found a good home and are loved as much as we loved them. I pray that people who find dogs or other lost pets are convicted to try to find an owner. I pray my kids and wife do OK as we work through this time. Thanks to everyone who cares or helps in times like these. Our dogs were, are, family and it is a loss we will not soon get over.

Little Turns and Lessons

2009-02-04T08:29:00.000-08:00

I was pretty nervous as I prepared to speak at the wild game dinner. I am not usually uptight about speaking in public and most often jump at the chance. This time however I really wanted to convey a good message and relate a point. It had to include a lot about my childhood experiences and growing up. This is a topic I can talk on for hours.

My concern that I would get off topic kept me on I task. I spent days handwriting, typing, editing, reading and re-reading the speech. The versions changed each time I wrote it and when I finally read it to my wife and pastor they shredded it. It was good they were honest and open with me and I was surprisingly open to their critiques.

From the ashes of reflection into my childhood I learned some things about myself that were wonderful as I wrote. My childhood was not a perfect white picket fence, apple pie, tucked in bed story of love and caring. It was one of trials and challenges, disappointment and struggles, not always, but a lot.

The amazing thing I realized as I was writing them down was that each piece had a part in making me who I am today. There are many amazing and wonderful things, things I would have never imagined, but are now common and every day, like this blog.

In the midst of all the craziness of my childhood during elementary school I wrote a story. I was in the fifth grade and it won a “best in school” honor. It was read in front of the whole school and I received $5 cash.

I remember camping trips from the family station wagon and catching my first fish. The adventure, bears, streams, smells, mountains and the dirt of the outdoors.

I remember as a young teenager being on my own and walking through fields of tall grass in the middle of the night searching for a place to be. I remember one night I was walking along the interstate as I hitchhiked. I was again a young teen and I was cold, tired and hungry, to top that off it started to sprinkle. I remember seeing a farmhouse in the distance and wishing I could be there, inside where it was warm, and I was loved and cared for.

As I reflected on these storylines of my life I realized each one of those trials and struggles were God’s way of preparing me for who I am today. I am not and do not complain about my childhood. I don’t live in a constant reflective and remorseful time of lost boy or childhood opportunities. But I can see now how God took each moment, each lesson and is using it for His good.

I am an award winning outdoor writer and communicator. I am not the best or most skilled, but it is who I am in my life today. The confidence from that one story and knowing I might could actually have a talent or gift. That $5 sealed a deal that lay dormant for many years.

That lost little boy wandering the country gave me the ability to know how a lost boy feels. The drug and alcohol problems gave me insight from a firsthand position to understand those struggles in boys and men. These combined with the outdoors birthed the Kids Outdoor Zone youth ministry in my life.

God used all these struggles, these challenges to create who I am today. I believe we all have these pieces in our life experience that if we stop, be still and reflect, we will see. The gifts and tools that we uniquely have like finger prints. My story is my story. Yours can be exactly opposite but you still have things in your life that He can and will use if you let Him.

Take some time to think how best you can serve the One who gave up his only Son for you. What an outstanding chance to give a little back. You have talents and gifts, ask Him to help you know them and use them. You are amazing!

Boys Need To Be Boys

2009-01-30T10:24:00.000-08:00

Jon Michael is my youngest at 10. He has two best friends, Kyle and Darius, who often come to our house to hang out, eat from the fridge, play video games, you know all the current boys things. But they also come to see me, to hang and talk and ask me questions. They try to lure me into taking them fishing or hunting, shooting or riding on the four wheeler, cool, dirty guy stuff.
I can’t always break away from what I am doing to hang with the three musketeers’ but I usually help instigate outdoor activities. I make sure they have plenty of bb’s, flashlights or something to cook over the small fire pit out back.

A month or two ago the boys were over and decided they wanted to camp out in the back yard. It was going to be warm enough and I thought it a good idea. We dug out the cots and some sleeping bags, lit the fire pit and gave them the makings for hot dogs and smores. The perfect evening in so many ways.

That night my wife and I retired to bed around midnight. The boys had sat watching the fire embers burn down and made it to their cots about the same time, talking, laughing, telling stories.

It was about 1AM when I heard the first attack. The quiet of the night was broken by whoops and yells, bangs from rocks hitting the old wooden fence. Shouts of “get him,”“there he goes,” “watch out”- it was loud and crazy. My wife pushed my shoulder, I was already awake. “Get up and tell them to be quiet, to go to bed, egad,” she does not like to be woken at night.

I was laughing, laughing hard and deep down. “No,” I told her, “No I think we’ll let them be boys a while, they are safe.” They had spotted a possum and chased him across the back yard. He barely escaped they treachery and they were basking in their bravery and skill when I looked out back. For me, it was awesome!

It was maybe an hour later and it all erupted again only this time I joined in. I went out the front door and made the wide sweep around the porch meeting the possum on the drive with the boys on hot pursuit behind. I cornered the stinky looking possum, snatched him up and took him to the field across the street. I think the boys wanted to eat him or something, they were pretty bummed I let him go. I was just wanting to go to sleep now and I was close to being put outside myself for not reining them in. The boys headed back to their cots back-slapping and for the close throws and fast running each one provided to the “hunt”.

It got quiet again and I decided, now at about 3AM, to get up and check out back. I wanted to check on the fire pit and the boys. To my surprise one of the boys, Darius, was up on his cot in a kneeling position with a flashlight and a stick in his hand. The other boys were fast asleep.

I quietly walked out back and asked him why he was still up when the other boys were asleep. Through sleepy little brown eyes he said he was watching for the possum. I read it as a scared.
I convinced him the excitement was over and the possum and he was gone, we laid out his cot and sleeping bag and he laid down. I sat down in a chair between him and the yard, he was out fast. I hung out a few minutes reflecting on the night, morning, and to make sure he was asleep.

One more time, up at 4AM just to double check, I was having a hard time sleeping now. There sitting next to the fire pit poking at a small flame that had erupted was Jon-Michael. Again I made my way to the back of the yard and asked him why he was up. A cheerful little face looked up at me and said “isn’t it about time to get up, isn’t it almost morning?” “No,” it is not I told him, it is the middle of the night so get back in bed. He made his way to his cot and that was that. I went inside.

The adventures I remember as a young boy include a lot of adrenaline. They were times of exploration and discovery. Catching my first fish, seeing bear at our campsite, building things that rolled or slid or tumbled. I also remember the times I was scared at times I also remember feeling lost, alone and cold.

I want to make sure that I am always keen to those feelings in my kids or the ones I have charge over. I never want to miss the opportunity to offer comfort or council to the young guys I mentor. For me, today, I live for late nights chasing possum and the quiet times by the fire pit. Good, dirty, wholesome guy stuff.

Kidsoutdoorzone.com

You Never Know Who is Sitting Next to You

2009-01-23T06:23:00.000-08:00

I was the third person at the tire store that morning. It was 20 minutes before they opened and I wanted to get in and out quickly. As it got closer to the opening time others began to show up and I was forced to get out of the truck and stand in an impromptu line. Minutes before there were eight or nine folks in line and no one was talking. I had already dissected the lives of several and how they were not going to have the manners to allow those who were there first their rightful place at the counter when the doors opened.

I have been at this exact place and had a woman come up, cut in line and then barge to the counter ahead of all those who had waited outside patiently. I said something to her, as many might have wanted to, but she shrugged it off and took care of herself.

I am guilty of selective judgment and taking someones inventory for nothing more than how they look. I have to say some of the problem does lye on the shoulders of the person who is representing themselves by their fashion choices. I know business owners who were interviewing for a specific job and had applicants come in sloppy dressed, slouching in the chair, not answering with a yes sir or mam. They come in with little attitude or look of true desire to work, or at least it appears that way.

I have talked with distraught young adults and men who complained about how they were treated in an interview or meeting. When we dissect the situation they had to reflect on their part of the problem.

But I digress; we were talking about me and my prejudgment of folks I don’t know. So the fact is I do on many occasions. A lot of times you are what you look like and it is a fact that people will decide who you are the first few seconds they see you.

So back to the story from this morning, there was a young man with an old truck who was dressed in baggy jeans and a black hoody pulled over his head. He got right in the semi structured line and ahead of several folks. I decided he was a kid with little manners and probably a trouble maker or not very motivated.

I was the first one through the door and pointed to the first two guys that were there ahead of me, they came forward and made their way to the counter. I was next and then I lost track of how it went from there. I made my way to the waiting area and found a chair in the sun. I pulled out my laptop and prepared to write this blog – but that is when God wanted to teach me, again, His way.

The young man asked me, “are you in wildlife management?” The logo’s on my truck says Texas Outdoor Zone, Wildlife Management Harvest Unit 1. I told him I was an outdoor writer and worked with kids to get them outdoors. That lead us into a conversation about him, his love for quail hunting, his father’s influence and how he ran the family business and a second year student in college.

What an amazing young man. He was very well spoken and wanted to volunteer to help with the boys if he could. He cuts firewood everyday for the family wood business. His father does not get out and hunt much any more but he loves to bird hunt and the dogs.

I am so sorry Lord I looked at one of your children and judged them. I am guilty of it many times. I am sorry to my new friend and I pray I can make it up one day, even though you don’t know it, I am truly sorry, you’re a great young man from what I know now.

Yes, it matters how you present yourself. Humans will be human and thus flawed. But again the Lord will allow us grace to learn and grow closer. I, again, am so glad I met this young man and who knows where God will take the relationship. He may be a key to the leadership of the whole Kids Outdoor Zone program or maybe we won’t ever see each other again. But I got the message Lord, sorry -

Style vs Age

2009-01-06T09:59:00.000-08:00

I think I used to be quite hip. I had long hair, wore bell bottoms and always a bandana somewhere. I went to lots of live concerts and had 8-track tapes and records. I slept on a waterbed (do they still have those?) and had a black-light and even a strobe light. Pretty cool for the day.

Today when I talk about even having hair, much less hair that flowed freely in long curly locks over my shoulders and down my back my kids find it hard to believe. There are few pictures to prove the legend of my hair but they exist. I think the kids have a fantasy vision –which is probably one with my current face and body just add long hair, now that is funny.

Now being involved in a youth ministry (Kids Outdoor Zone) I have a chance to be cool again. I wear a couple necklaces made by the hand of my wife. I wear a leather bracelet my son gave me. I don’t shave everyday and am thinking a longer hairstyle would be cool. I am not falling for the tattoo thing or the baggy clothes.

However my coolness is limited. I get cool credit with the 8 – 14 year old boys because I hunt and fish and have lots of cool gear. I get a few men who give me cool credit because I am an outdoor writer, hunt and fish for a living. That is about it at 49. I may have passed my real cool-ability years.

This is most obvious in my 14-year-old daughter’s world. She is a beautiful, self confident and one of the true joys of my life. She is fashionable and smart, like her mom, and knows music and style trends. She is a country girl at heart who will dawn a Carhart and boots as fast as Abercrombie or Hollister. She has critiqued me a few times in a loving way that has helped me understand my dilemma of being a cool hip guy with long hair living in the body of an old dad guy with kids that has thinning and receding hair. Her help in my fashion choices was not only to keep her from being embarrassed but to keep folks from thinking I an old guy stuck in a time long since passed. For these things I am grateful.

I was watching the movie Napoleon Bonaparte recently and in it his uncle purchased a time machine. He lives his life for the one day in his youth he was part of a winning football team. Now he is older and his life is going nowhere fast. He longs for something he will never have.
In some ways I long for certain things in my past, my great long, thick flowing locks, less aches and pains, endless energy and things that are only found in youth. However I love my life right now. I love that I am learning more about life, relationships and love. I am better able to focus on God and His place in my life. I am bolder in my testimony and faith. I feel emotions deeper, see colors brighter, rest in Him in ways I never even thought about or could have imagined when I was younger.

For me being a hip old guy is going to have to rest in wisdom, I strive for that. In the book of James you can read about it a lot - James: 1 – 2Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. 4Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. 5If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. 6But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. Wisdom is more than book learning and test taking; it comes from experience, patience and prayer.

For Christmas my kids bought me Abercrombie shirts and Hollister cologne so it seems I can be “updated.” I am happy with that. Besides the strobe lights make me wheezy, I can’t see with a white light much less a black one and I have an iPod I am having a hard time figuring out, nuff said.

Peace.

TJ GreaneyCountry Line Magazine / Kids Outdoor Zone
TJ@kidsoutdoorzone.com

Firehall and the New Year

2008-12-30T19:22:00.000-08:00

As I sit here listening to the humm of the butane heaters, clanking of forks, plates and coffee mugs I am comfortable and at home. I don’t know everyone around me, I recognize a few, but I don’t have to know names – we are family just the same. This ole place is where so many have come over the years to sit and visit and gossip and laugh. The common thread is the food and the family that serves it and I have a chair at the table in the back to watch life happen in this small town gathering spot.

The new years is here and America is set on a course of the unknown, un-chartered policies of a new president. We have many who are embracing his ideas and policies and just as many who are concerned that they are going to be harmful. Times are hard for more folks than not and it is imperative that the promises he made and the things he does to right this ship are effective. That was the package the majority of Americans bought in November and all of America is counting on their judgment.

My heart goes out to the elderly who have lost so much in the financial markets. These are the people who can’t go back to work and rebuild. They are the ones who have worked long and hard, saved and planned and now are devastated and in despair.

I have little tolerance for those who can work and don’t. I have little tolerance for programs that feed into the mind set that the government owes anyone something. We are all going to have to work to dig ourselves out of this mess.

Clarence Vogel has been arriving here at the Firehall Restaurant every morning for the last 41 years. His day starts at 5 a.m. and he locks the doors after a late dinner service at –9 p.m.. years old. Vogel, 80, has worker hard all his life as well as his family who serve the meals, wipe the tables and sweep the floors. They have a small handful of loyal employees who work hard as well to take care of their families. Their life is about serving others.

David Vogel, Clarence’s son, is a big boy who likens Hank Williams Jr. in appearance. David has a bum knee he has struggled with as far back as I can remember. David is also in-charge of the catering trailer. A big heavy behemoth that they pull all over the area serving up their world famous fried catfish dinners. You can see the discomfort in David’s face, but you have to look through the smile. He gets up and gets the job done because that is what you do when you’re a Vogel.

I know the Vogel’s have had their ups and downs, good times and not so good. But you don’t hear them complain. They smile and chat with customers, they order the food for the week and wash the dishes and clean the pots and pans. They make a payroll and pay their taxes and try to put a little in the bank on those rare days when there is something left over.

I personally learn best in lean times, hard times, times of pain and despair. I am working on trying to change that, to live my life looking for God’s direction and seeking Him out in good times, times when things are just OK, but it is hard. When I am doing well I tend to put off my quiet time with God and forget to rely on Him.
As we begin a time of transition and change, a time of rebuilding and rethinking our lifestyles and priorities, lets remember to live each day, each moment grateful for the small things as well as the rest. We are all going to have to pony up, Vogel up, and get the job done.

I am going to pray for the new president and his team. I am going to pray they seek Him in their decisions and at their meetings and at night as they lye in bed. Thanks to Steve, Ronnie, Jr. and the Vogle family for your inspiration and hard work, may God bless you in every way and may God bless America.

www.kidsoutdoorzone.com

"You Sit On A Thrown Of Lies"

2008-12-23T05:41:00.000-08:00

I am laughing as I sit here just thinking about my current old favorite Christmas movie. My son Jon-Michael and I have sat and watched it over and over again this season. There are so many good movies to watch during Christmas, “It’s a Good Life,” “Rudolph,” “Charlie Brown Christmas,” “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” and more.

I remember growing up watching these same movies; I even remember watching them in black and white. To get them tuned in I had to get up and walk over to the TV set and turn the antenna back and forth for the best signal. Now that dates me a bit.

I love a funny movie. I have seen a few dark and heinous movies in the last couple years and left the movie house feeling bad and mad I spent money on them. I am not a movie buff like my wife, she remembers actors names, their role, what movie, when. I just want to enjoy the movie, the experience, the time with my family and friends.

“Elf” with Will Farrell is my current favorite; it has been every Christmas since we got it. I love the story line, Farrell is absolutely brilliant in the movie and it makes me laugh every time I watch it. My kids and I quote different lines all holiday season, “You Sit on a Thrown of Lies,” Cotton Headed Ninny Muggin,” and more are daily phrases we work into everything we are doing and we laugh every time.

This is Christmas week and I am trying my best to stay in a good mood, enjoy the moment, laugh and reflect on my blessings. There are so many folks who are having a hard time seeing the silver lining this year and I think it will just get worse as we move forward into the next year.

God has forged me through tough times and my accountability partners and friends hold me to my resolutions. Iron sharpens iron. Find someone in your circle of friends or find a church to help you work through the things that keep you unhappy, frustrated or angry. God’s wish for us is to be happy. He loves us dearly. Many of us are blessed and if you don’t think you are, spend the night outside under the closest overpass or fast for a few days – it will show you simple blessings we totally overlook.

On Christmas day God is offering us His son. He eventually dies a brutal death for you and I – do you know the story? Do you know the joy of a child’s birth? Do you see the innocence and happiness in a child’s eyes? Can you image offering your child up to die for folks like us? Do you honor that sacrifice He gave us?

Smile, pray, know that God loves you and today is a new day, a new opportunity for you to laugh and enjoy life the way He planned it for you.

Merry Christmas you “Cotton Headed Ninny Muggin!”

TJ

Merry Christmas Y'all

2008-12-14T19:23:00.000-08:00

It chaps me that some retailers and even whole city governments are choosing to call Christmas shopping “holiday shopping” or “winter holidays.” You have all heard about it over the last few years, and many of you have felt the same way.

When researching this, I went to my favorite search engine and found a delightful Web site: merry-christmas.com. They had received an e-mail from some lost soul ranting about them needing to remove the term from their site or he would not shop there. He also ranted that he would search their site and not shop with any of their advertisers. I loved the response from the site editor, “Before you read further, please remove the aluminum foil that you've taped (or SuperGlued) to your head. This will allow my ‘Happy-Happy, Ho, Ho, Ho’ Christmas vibes to penetrate your thick skull... Whether you like it or not we want you to have a Merry -- Um, Erm...Merry Chr...ahhhh, you know what I mean... We agree that you should boycott us. Puh-Leeze!”

Washington, D.C., buses have appeared with an ad campaign proclaiming, “Why believe in a god? Just be good for goodness sake.” The American Humanist Association is spending $40,000 on the provocative holiday ad campaign. (foxnews.com) That would buy a lot of coats for kids or food for the hungry.

School teachers are another group who, in many cases, have to tip-toe around the issue of Christmas. Using the word Christmas in one school district took a school board vote and a ton of their attorney’s time and energy just so they could say “Christmas Break.”

Last year a special task force in Fort Collins, Colo., recommended banning red and green lights during the Christmas holiday because they fall among the items that are too religious for the city to sponsor.

"Some symbols, even though the Supreme Court has declared that in many contexts they are secular symbols, often still send a message to some members of the community that they and their traditions are not valued and not wanted. We don't want to send that message," Seth Anthony, a spokesman for the committee, told the Fort Collins, Colo., Coloradoan.

He said the recommended language does not specifically address Christmas trees by name, but the consensus was that they would not fall within acceptable decorations.

What will be allowed are white lights and "secular" symbols not associated "with any particular holiday" such as icicles, unadorned greenery and snowflakes, the task force said. (World Net Daily)

Many remember the removal of Christmas Trees from the Seattle Airport last year. That was a tradition that had been honored there for many years.

I am all about the gift giving and happy spirit most folks have this time of year. My friend owns a garbage company, and he has to love it. According to Garbage Magazine, Americans used 28,497,464 rolls and sheets of wrapping paper; 16,826,362 packages of tags and bows; 372,430,684 greeting cards; and 35,200,000 Christmas trees during the 1989 Christmas season, almost 20 years ago!

I can easily let this get me angry. I can rant and rave, without a foil hat, for hours on this topic, but, alas, I will leave you with this: We will have red and green lights. We will give gifts and wish everyone we can think of a merry Christmas. Christ is the reason for Christmas for our family. We will worship His birth because without Him, we (our family and millions of other believers) would be lost. We rely on Him more each day, and I hunger to live more for Him each minute. I am far from perfect and make mistakes each and every day, but thank God he loves me enough to have given His son to die for me. Wow, the gift of gifts. Merry Christmas, y’all.

The Little Boy Who Wanted Everything

2008-12-08T21:51:00.000-08:00

The virtue at Sunday school for the 4th and 5th boys this Sunday was giving. It was all about the gift of sharing with others and this time of year it makes sense. The basic principal of giving is truly of God and Christmas just concentrates a lot of it in one short time period for many folks.

Now at our home we celebrate the birth of Christ at Christmas. My wife bakes a birthday cake for Jesus, we pray together and try and savor each and every moment of this, the true meaning of the holiday.

That is my disclaimer as a believer. We as a family do the whole Santa gift-giving thing as well. Even now my kids are older but I asked them, “do you like Santa and the idea of Santa and that he continues to bring you presents,” they always answer “yes” with a twinkle in their eyes – so Santa continues to come to our home. I do not find anything wrong with the commercial side of Christmas – the holiday side.

I love my family. I want to give them everything they could possibly want and Christmas is a wonderful time to make a big deal out of blessing them and loving on each other and having fun – concentrated fun in a month long festival with days off and lots of happy people, what can be wrong with that?

My son Jon-Michael is one of the kindest, biggest hearted little guys you could ever hope for as a kid. He is however a little boy living in the world today and he struggles a bit with the concept of a limited gift list. He wants video games, dirt bikes, computers and the list is almost endless. I laugh to myself with each addition.

We have had long talks about giving and caring for others; he has a heart the size of a small car. But alas he is just a little boy growing up in America. He gets it, but does not want to get it. He still wishes for it all – and I wish he could have it. Jon-Michael and I both know he won’t get everything on his list, not even close, but it is fun wishing.

I took three of the boys after church this Sunday and went to lunch, that included Jon- Michael. After lunch we went to the dollar store and bought two street bags, bags full of things someone living on the street might need. We also purchased toys for the toy drive in town. We ended up at the grocery story and collected a bag of food for the local food drive. We sat on the porch assembling the items into the bags then struck out to bless some folks. We found a homeless couple right down the street from our home. They were asking drivers for coins.

Now I have to tell you, I usually do not give these folks anything. I have lived where they are and for most, they have made a choice. I know this sounds hard and you can argue with me if you like – but I know the streets and the life the folks are living. Ask me about it sometime. But I digress; we found them and invited them over to the truck.

The boys were scared of the homeless couple until they began talking to the boys. It turned into a pretty magical experience. The last thing we did was pray for them. Cool thing for the boys and I. We then went by the food bank and they went in and dropped off the food. This morning I dropped off the toys.

The point in doing this was to show the boys some folks who have little to nothing. To teach them how to give and gift and think about others in a compassionate way. I was very proud of them. They understood the Sunday school program a little better.

God has blessed us with so much. I am in awe of the gifts each and every day. A friend told me recently that he is happy every day he swings his feet out of bed and feels them touch the floor. Simple things we so often over look.

Job well done Jon-Michael, Tanner and Spencer, Gods servants indeed.

Happy Road Trips

2008-12-01T20:56:00.000-08:00

I have done my share of road trips – long drives where you just get bored out of your mind and want to pull your hair out, well I guess I would have to do something different nowadays, but…. I have sworn my life against ever doing one again many times. This Thanksgiving I somehow forgot I had promised myself that and planed a drive to Georgia from Texas, not a long drive but over 1000 miles each way and in a small Toyota instead of my big dual cab diesel. What was I thinking?

Most of the credit for the trip going smoothly goes to my wife – she packed everything, assigned seating and planned out stops. She is also one of the most cheerful people you would ever want to meet. I don’t see how she does it but things bounce off her and her attitude is always positive. There are a few exception to this rule, she struggles with other drivers and tends to be a tad, well, mean. But besides that she is a loving, caring, smiling machine and I figured I would do most of the driving, except when there would be no other cars around, like when we were asleep.

One of the things that worked for us on this trip was splitting up the trip with over nights at hotels, one night both ways gave us a road break. I was a tad retentive with trying to find a hotel that was inexpensive. The cheapest night was $76. with a continental breakfast and I had a hard time with that – but the others were at least $20. more so we stopped.

The next thing is a movie player for the kids. OK, so I have tried the “you need to be watching out the window and see things” attitude, not a working model in today’s world. I figured if they had their faces buried in a book it was no different than them watching a movie. I watched most of a movie one day as well and two hours go by fast. So movies are now approved – for a part of the trip. I still do the “look outside” but just not as rigged.

Snacks, drinks and more help. I polished off different energy drinks like Red Bull and Rock Star. They had some effect on me and helped get me through the end of one part of the drive. Buying stuff at gas stations is way too expensive and gets my goat. I will do it in a pinch, but not if I can avoid it. My wife did a great job with drinks, snacks and things – nothing red, nothing covered in chocolate.

Pillows and blankets make for nice comfort items. Bring a few.

An absolute must is to bring along a good attitude. Go into the trip remembering the objective, the memories you are about to create. I have done plenty of these where I was a tyrant and just an unpleasant fellow to be around. This may take a bit of effort, but make the effort. Let the little things slide – a messy car, a dropped cracker, a little grumbling from the kids must be expected and I can assure you it will not be the end of the world.

Finally, pray. Pray with your traveling companions before you leave. Pray over your home, your pets, your drive ahead. Pray when you arrive, give thanks for a safe drive and the ability to take the time to be on the trip.

This last trip was just at 1100 miles each way and was pleasant and uneventful. One day it rained the whole time we drove, a mess, but we never broke, we kept going and it went very smooth. God is so good. You have to open yourself up to being in a good mood and pleasant to those around you. Us guys are especially grumpy and mean for no apparent reason nowadays – so work on that – know that your kids will mirror your attitudes and moods as they grow up and we need fewer grumpy folks in this world – find someone who inspires you to be happy, be it Sponge Bob or Jerry Lewis - for me it is my wife, most days.

Food Food - Red and Blue – I Like to Eat - I do, I do

2008-11-24T07:30:00.000-08:00

Well as much as I profess to needing to watch what I eat and exercise more – I keep slipping backwards. It just seems I have a sweet tooth that is hard to break and if bacon is within a couple hundred yards, I am on it. I just love to eat.

I could not believe a report I read recently that Australia is now the world’s fattest nation, with 26% of adults labeled obese, a new report said Friday. The report, titled ‘‘Australia’s Future Fat Bomb’’ was undertaken by the Baker IDI Heart and Diabetes Institute, and revealed that some 4 million Australian adults are now classified as obese. The alarming new figures mean the nation has officially overtaken the United States, which has a 25% obesity rate.

While the report said Australia had overtaken the United States as the fattest nation on the planet, recent U.S. studies show around 34% of Americans are overweight or obese.
In all, there are currently 1.6 billion overweight adults in the world, a number that is expected to grow by 40% over the next decade, according to the World Health Organization.

The report proposed a number of recommendations to curb Australia’s expanding waistlines, including a national weight loss strategy similar to the high-profile smoking and skin cancer campaigns and the subsidizing of gym memberships.

“If we ran a fat Olympics, we’d be gold medal winners as the fattest people on earth at the moment,” Institute preventative cardiology head Professor Simon Stewart told the Age newspaper.

Australia and the United States blame the fast food industry for a lot of the issues. I don’t eat that much fast food. I guess some people do, and I admit I see some folks and just wonder how they can be at that particular restaurant with that food – when they are that unhealthy. But alas we have the opportunity to make healthy choices or live unhealthy lives in most cases. Mine is a choice when it gets down to it.

I am one who struggles with an occasional cigar, bacon, cookie dough ice cream and pie of all flavors. The Thanksgiving holidays will take me to mom’s house. Mom is the best cook ever. She makes fresh breads of all flavors, fresh bread pudding, cookies, cakes and that is just a sample of the sweets. I love it all and I will eat some of everything this week.

God’s gave us free will. The ability to make choices and that is what separates us from Him. We chose to sin or skip church or reading the bible or what ever it is that is inconvenient and doesn’t fit our schedule for that moment or that day.

I don’t mean for this piece to be a condemning comment on others – I choose poorly everyday. I think the way we live today makes it hard for us to make healthy food choices every meal. But this week – I have a little poem:

I will eat pie I will eat cake
I will see my belly bloat and ache

I love to eat I love to sleep
I will lay on the couch in a heap

I will try a diet I will try a fast
But if it is like always it won’t really last

Thank you Lord for my family and all the blessings
This holiday of Thanksgiving, stuffing and dressings

Take time to savor the moments of family. The go by way too fast.

Emailing Emotions

2008-11-18T21:33:00.000-08:00

I get a hundred or more e-mails a day. Most of them are impersonal advertisements or solicitations from who knows what – if you have e-mail you know what I am talking about. For me, for the most part, if I did not ask for the e-mail or am not expecting it – I delete it before I even open it. I don’t look at funny pictures or videos or stories. I don’t pass on your prayer e-mails or touching stories to nine of my friends, I just don’t.

A former business partner told me once that the reason he sends e-mails is because they are emotion free exchanges of information or directives. That people do not have to argue or misunderstand what is expected of them or what you are saying to them. I think he was wrong; many e-mails are often taken emotionally.

I have sent e-mails that were totally misunderstood, or it was what I meant at the time but almost immediately wished I had not sent it. Most people have done that. Recently I wrote an e-mail just ripping apart a guy I was upset with, however, I sent it to a friend instead of the victim. We got a laugh out of it, I got it off my chest and out of my head and the victim was none the wiser. I got to think about things a little more and decided a bit of grace was in order before the chopping block.

I have several e-mails from friends who have passed away over the last two years as well as my father. I feel strange when I see them and wonder what would happen if I e-mailed them. I read the e-mails and remember the things that were going on when I sent them. What do you do with those? They are huge emotional e-mails for me now.

I have a few handwritten letters from my dad before he died. I cherish those. I look at his penmanship and his choice of paper. It is all classic dad. You don’t get handwritten letters too often anymore. I would guess if we all sent our moms or a friend a handwritten letter today, they would be thrilled and the letter would be a cherished momentum.

I never really liked getting cards, either. The ones that have the words inside partially underlined by the sender and then an “I Love You” at the end. I have always thought that was cheesy. At least write a paragraph and say something personal in regards to us. E-mail cards are even worse.

So I guess the point I am trying to make is that e-mails are best used to transfer benign information to another. When you really need to get something done, use the telephone. Don’t cop out and expect huge results from an e-mail – if you sent it to me, chances are I deleted it before I even read it. Try calling, writing a letter or write inside that card next time.

I think it shows that you care for some one more when you show them that you gave them some of your time. That you had to think about them only for just a period of time. God gifts us when we give of ourselves.

God Bless and share His love.

Backyard Camping a Possum and Time Well Spent

2008-11-10T20:51:00.000-08:00

Those who know me know I spend a lot of time outdoors and teaching kids about hunting and fishing. I don’t always take them far and away to exotic lands and lakes, a lot of times I teach them urban outdoor skills. Al it really takes is a backyard, a creek, a ditch, a tree or just a patch of grass if that is all there is. But outdoors is the key word.

We ended up with three boys last night. Darius, Kyle and Jon-Michael. Two of the boys are boys I have been mentoring for a while, JM is mine, he has been part of the TJ way since his birth. The plan was to let them hangout after church and with no school on Monday we could go late. The plan morphed into a sleep over then a camp out in the backyard. This gave me another chance to kick in the TJ urban outdoor living program.

After a grilled cheese lunch the plan was put into place. BB guns were handed out and loaded to capacity. If we were to ever cash in on the copper content of the BB’s we keep at our house we would be rich. First the mandatory safety lesson and then they were off down the deer trail. The deer trail is a well worn path along the electric substation heavily wooded on both sides. No animals but cans and leaves and stuff to shoot at.

Hours were spent exploring and plinking. They ended up at what they call the sewers. This is an intersection of large concrete drainage ditches. They came back and swapped the guns for bikes and skateboards and were off again until sundown.

Just as it was getting dark we cleared a spot under the outdoor kitchen area, a tin shed where I use my grill, and put up cots. Then we put some wood in the burn pit and sparked up a campfire. They grilled deer sausage from sticks and heated a can of beans for dinner. The rest of the timeline goes something like this.

At 10 p.m. - I told them time to go to bed. The fire had burned down and I was beat, so they needed to be in bed.

11: 40 p.m. – Checked on them through the back door window, they were sitting by the all but gone fire again, throwing small sticks in for short bursts of flames. “Go to bed," was the cry from the kitchen door.

12:30 a.m. – “Get him” was the warrior’s cry. Bang, clank, bang again….."here he comes run".. they had seen a possum and were chasing it around the yard and throwing rocks and sticks and laughing hysterically. My wife awoke to hear me laughing out loud. She told me in no uncertain terms to go and quiet them down. I let them have fun. She rolled over and went back to sleep knowing it was a lost cause.

1:15 a.m. – “Bang, get him, pop, over there, run - there he goes.” Rocks were flying and hitting everything including the house and wood fence. OK now I was going to have to tell them to go to bed. “Dad, there he is get him,” my son yelled as I walked around the corner of the house. The possum was hanging on the fence. I tailed him and took him out across the street and released him to the woods. “Go to bed or else,” was my hollow charge.

2 a.m. Checking out the back door again I saw Darius up on a chair with a big stick in one hand and the flashlight in the other. JM and Kyle were asleep. He was scared of another possum attack. I had him to lay down and it was only minutes before he fell asleep.

3:40 a.m. – Checking again through the back door they were up again sitting by the fire. Small flames flickering on their faces, I walked out to check on them. They asked what time it was. I told them a quarter to four and to get back into bed. “We thought it was almost time to get up.” They had no watch or TV or radio to check the time. “Go to bed, I will get you up early.”

6:15 a.m. - Sunrise, I drag myself in to the kitchen and pour a cup of coffee, ours begins brewing automatically at 5:30 a.m. I look out back and two of the three were up. I wander out and help them set up the Coleman stove. The one sleeping camper had makeup on his face, that is what happens at camp if you sleep in I guess.

They cooked a big breakfast outside, cleaned up and resumed the BB gun and skateboard outing all day. At about 4 p.m. the two visiting campers went home, school tomorrow. Mine showered and crashed out. When I checked on him he woke for a moment and said, “man dad that was awesome,” then fell back asleep.

I may not always do it right but this time, score. I built a memory for the boys, one that includes me. We learned stuff, played, chased a possum and ate food cooked over the open fire. Man what a deal.

I am absolutely beat, I had meetings till late tonight, thus the late posting of this blog. God was good this weekend, and I loved it. Don’t pass up a chance to live your life and thank Him for each and every day.

A Season of Learning

2008-11-03T20:08:00.000-08:00

Recently I spent time in a corporate setting and time after time I met unhappy people who felt stuck. Many expressed feeling they came to the job creative and energized only to be squashed and stuffed into a box.

I also met some great people, upper level executives, who were looking at the corporate ladder and the wonderful opportunities that were ahead of them. They liked their jobs. For them I was happy.

I remember once driving down the interstate one morning and looking over at a guy in a nice pressed shirt who was driving a clean car on his way to work. I thought that would be nice, a job where when you leave for the day you leave it there. For most I met recently, that was not true. Blackberry’s and email keep it going till all hours of the night, seven days a week.

I talked with one guy who was so proud of a camping trip he took his son on, the whole time monitoring his Blackberry for emails and messages. I told him I thought his son probably knew he wasn’t really there, not completely.

You know who I liked the most there though, the kitchen help in the corporate cafeteria. The little Hispanic ladies who worked so hard every day to feed the white-collar employees that worked from their cubicles.

I found out early on that one of the ladies made a fantastic picodigio. I also found out that the kitchen staff ate lunch at about 10. If I happened into the cafeteria for some coffee about then I was likely going to get offered something really traditional and tasty they had prepared for themselves.

I started bringing in smoked meats and fresh fish from hunting trips and gave it to the kitchen staff. They would prepare it and at 10 we ate. It was always wonderful. I learned a little spanish as well. I loved it.

I remember one day at lunch there was a guy who was just angry and frustrated with one of the ladies because she could not figure out he wanted his meat on top of his rice or something stupid like that. He was a rude and obnoxious crap-head. I don’t know if he was generally a creep or if his hemorrhoids were just flaring up that day. I was close to punching him for picking on my little ladies.

I believe life is a series of seasons. We have harsh and hard ones, easy smooth ones. But I have also found that some of the harshest times provide the most fertile time for learning and growing. We are given the opportunity to come closer to God or push him away. We are given the one thing He always allows us, free will. The opportunity to choose.

I am grateful to have found out I am not who I thought I might be. I was given the chance to explore the world from a different angle, a differnet perspective. I am blessed with the relationships that came from the experiences in the last year and I will be praying for those I met.

I do have a few regreats though. I wish I had been more open with my faith and asked more folks if they were believers or if they needed prayer. I also wish I had gotten that recipie for the picodigio and those spicy steamed vegatables.

God is good. Look for Him today.

Mercyme Bring The Rain
I can count a million times People asking me how I Can praise You with all that I've gone through

The question just amazes me Can circumstances possibly Change who I forever am in You

Maybe since my life was changed Long before these rainy days It's never really ever crossed my mind

To turn my back on you, oh Lord My only shelter from the storm But instead I draw closer through these times

So I pray

Bring me joy, bring me peace Bring the chance to be free Bring me anything that brings You glory

And I know there'll be days When this life brings me pain But if that's what it takes to praise You Jesus, bring the rain

I am Yours regardless of The dark clouds that may loom above Because You are much greater than my pain

You who made a way for me
By suffering Your destiny
So tell me what's a little rain
So I pray

Holy, holy, holy
Is the Lord God Almighty

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8HgAVenbUU

Weather and God's Time

2008-10-27T10:26:00.000-07:00

The first time I remember weather was as a kid living in Houston and Hurricane Carla came across the top of us. I must have been 4 or 5 and I remember during the eye of the storm playing with my Tonka trucks on the front porch. In the yard out in front there was debris scattered all about. – I don’t remember being scared, just how calm and quiet it was.

The second time I remember weather was when I was about 8. We were camping on top of a mountain in Colorado watching a storm in the valley below. Suddenly a tornado dropped out of the clouds. We were above the storm and could see everything happening as the tornado whipped trees and wrapped branches and long grasses around power lines. Then it was gone. I was frightened and wanted to know what we would do if it came up the mountain.

A few years ago I took up bow hunting. One evening as I sat in a tree I had chosen as my hunting stand, I heard a rumble. It sounded like a large truck or train off in the distance. I looked across the field adjacent to my tree and beyond at the hills in the far distance. I could see clouds moving my direction; a front was moving in.

As I sat there, the clouds came closer and the sound grew louder. I could see in the far distance the treetops begin to bend toward me and sway. Then it got closer. I could see the tall grass in the field I was looking over bend and whip as it came at me. Then it hit me, the cold front blew over me and the temperature dropped. It pushed past and kept going up the hills until the front consumed everything I could see in both directions. It was awesome.

A year or so later it happened from that tree again. The second time I knew what was coming, so I was giddy with excitement. There was nothing at that moment I could think of but how God was blessing me with a view of His power and His wonder.

Today, I was on the balcony of my hotel in Corpus Christi, Texas. The week of meetings now over, I had risen early to drink coffee and reflect on the day ahead. I looked over the bay and saw a grey blanket that encapsulated the horizon. I could see the water tossing and turning at the front edge, the sails on the docked sailboats begin to flap hard and fast. The wind, then rain, came over the hotel and soaked it in a shower of cool fresh air and water.

I know there are times when I truly cannot for the life of me figure out what God is doing in my life, why he is not answering prayer when I think He should or why the pain and struggling. Recently I am trying to learn that the hardships are a time of learning and a time to draw closer to Him, to rely on Him. Amazing thing is, through that, I get a lot of relief.

We are all going to have hardships and struggles, bad things happen. But I wonder how those who do not have a Father, who don’t have God in their lives ever make it? I find I lean on Him more every year. I hunger for Him, like that front I watched from the tree the second time. I knew the experience like I know the joy of relying on God. I anticipated the weather change and wonderful, exhilarating feeling. If I never get in the tree, go outside or pay attention, I surely will never experience it. I want to live my life with as many of those moments as I can get. Unafraid of the tornadoes in the valley or the beginning and end of the hurricane – but the wonder of His love for me and how I can have it come over me each and every day.

The War at Home

2008-10-20T21:17:00.000-07:00

Jason has been a warrior his whole life. I have heard stories of his childhood obsession playing with green army men for years. He would play for hours in his room or in the yard strategizing and destroying the enemy. The most recent story I heard was when his soldiers would die, he would bury them then forget where and they would be lost.

“I didn’t just dig a hole and stick them in it; I had a service and all. I did it right,” he explained. I can tell you somewhere in south Austin, buried in the yard of his childhood home, are possibly thousands of small green army men. The graveyard.

It seems that some people know their destiny early. They, I believe, are the lucky ones. They are driven to be whom they know they are. After high school Jason went straight into the National Guard. A week or two into it he called home and wanted out. His mom and I talked and she decided to put the kibosh on his leaving.

“No, you don’t want to regret this,” she coaxed him. He knew in his heart she was right. He completed the time with honors.

Not long after returning from his National Guard training and duties he was milling around trying to figure out what he was going to do next. Police work became his next objective and he started his education at cop school. Upon graduation he found a position in a small town east of Austin and went to work. Police work was good to Jason. He shared story after story of his days and nights on the job. He loved his work and you could hear it in every word.

As he began his emersion into police work, each month he would report for National Guard duties. Then came 9/11. The world was thrown into frenzy. Americans raised their hands over their hearts and were proud to be Americans as we took on the terrorist of our world. They had attacked us all around the world and we were detached, but now they were in our country and everyone felt the heartache and patriotism. We are Americans and this is our country and that cannot happen here. Jason was standing tall ready to go should they call.

Eventually he moved to a bigger city and a new position in their police department. There he had drug duty and sting operations -- he loved all that. He always said, “I want to be in the tough part of the city – the rough side.” He usually was.

After years of weekends and summer training Jason’s time with the National Guard was coming to an end. He had never been called up to fight in Iraq, some don’t. He was well into his new job and had gotten married and had a newborn baby girl. Everything was in place. Except for one thing -- he had to decide, do I re”up” with the guard or not.

Resigning with the guard meant a lot of things. It meant he would be able to continue to work on the pension and other rewards he would eventually receive when he completed his service. But it also meant he was probably going to go to Iraq for a period of time, most likely a year or more. A decision that meant leaving his wife, new baby daughter and other family. It meant months of boot camp style training with long days and short nights.

We had long talks about the pros and cons of going to Iraq and the chances he would take. He went to council with others and prayed about it with his wife. When he told me he had decided to go and that they had a date for him to leave, I was mad. How, why, why now with the baby?
But I know why Jason went; I know why he is there. He is there because since he was little boy, he has been preparing to be an American soldier. He is there because deep inside Jason, ingrained in this young man with everything going for him, is the desire to serve his country. He is old school patriotic. He is willing to give his life so others may be spared the tragedy of 9/11 or something even more horrific. He is, like so many of our American soldiers, committed to the calling of God and country.

Don’t tell me American is anything less than great. Don’t put our president or our soldiers down in front of me. I stand next to my nephew who is headed to Iraq; I am humbled by his bravery, his honor of country, his willingness to die to protect his nieces and nephews. He is willing to sacrifice all he has for you and me. He is a man. I pray a legion of angels will protect him as he goes forward and that God will use him to minister to others in His great commission.

We can agree to disagree here in America and not have our hands cut off, our families killed, our daughters beaten and raped because of the freedom our soldiers have sacrificed for. So, tell me, what are you doing?

Lee and I

2008-10-07T20:46:00.000-07:00

Lee and I meet in the kitchen each morning at about 5:30 for our morning coffee and to discuss the way of our world, as it is that day. This routine just recently restarted from days gone by, over 17 years ago.

Lee is a friend I met at a 12-Step meeting way back in the late ‘90s. I had a few years clean and sober; he was trying to get a few days. We have built a friendship since those days, which is very special and important to me.

Lee has done some amazing things in his life. He is the only person I have ever met who actually ran away from home and joined the circus. At 14 he and a friend dropped out of school and were headed to Kemah, Texas, to work on the oyster boats. Along the way they passed a circus. For the next year they worked as setup and tear down hands for one of the big Shriner Circuses of that time. He traveled the country that year, and his stories and photos are wonderful.

When Lee got back from his jaunt with the circus, he wasn’t home long before he signed up for his next adventure as a merchant marine. Lee, at the tender age of 16, was off on his first ship and toured India and Japan, including Hiroshima. That was in the mid ‘60s when Hiroshima was a strange and rare place to visit. What a trip.

I can tell countless stories, Lee stories, but I won’t here. Just suffice it to say he is the most energetic and adventurous person I have ever met.

Since I have known Lee, his life has been centered around his daughters. He had custody of them both and his biggest joys, tears and wishes have been centered around them. Now both are young women with kids. When he gets hugs and kisses from his granddaughters, he absolutely lights up. A single dad raising girls is one of the most difficult things I could imagine. So much to teach them and lots of girls things that frankly I don’t think most men can even talk about aloud.
So as we sit and drink coffee, my workout partners at the gym go on without me. They don’t wait, and I am not rushing off. I love this time of day, and to spend it talking with Lee makes it a great day – no matter what happens after that.

As I write this I am planning a meeting with the CPA and some doctors. We also have to work in a visit to the hospital and talk with Hospice. Both daughters, their kids and Lee’s sister are at our home, and we need to get back to the grocery store sometime today, too. On most days this stuff would be just another day, but right now nothing is trivial or without cause. Planning and making sure things are taken care of and at the same time keeping the wheels on the family cart is tedious and wearing, but through it I find a peace from God and things fall into place.

Lee has cancer of the liver and stomach and I am not sure how many more mornings I will be able to sit with him and drink our morning coffee. By the time this is printed, he may be better, he may not. The doctors couldn’t administer his chemotherapy this week because he is too weak; I expect he will remain too weak for the treatments.

As we prayed over him Tuesday night he gained a sense of peace. Everyone saw it and it was so clearly God’s hands holding him. I know that Lee has accepted the Lord as his personal Savior, and I will see him in heaven. I can just imagine him there, in perfect health and all his glory. Planning adventures and exploring the depths of heaven and what it has to offer. If you can get in trouble for pushing the limits there, he will. God will be spending overtime on my buddy Lee when He finally gets him, whenever that is. I did my part down here, Lord. When you get him, don’t say I didn’t warn you -- he gets up early, likes his coffee strong and has a lot of things to do. Until then, it’s one teaspoon of creamer and a teaspoon of honey with Lee’s coffee about 5:20 a.m. and I will be there.