Listen and Learn - What Did You Say?

I often wonder if my hearing is waning? I have lots of friends with high tech hearing aids; funny, I thought my friends needed them because they are all so much older than me, but then it's not so funny because my friends are mostly my age. Selective hearing has been a suggestion that my wife has given as a possible reason for the problem. She I am not listening to her a lot of the time or that I only hear what I want to hear. Imagine that.

Sometimes I question if the kids I mentor are listening or are just waiting to get out from in front of me so they can get to doing whatever it is they were doing before I came along. I remember once when I was substitute teaching a group of sixth to eighth grade boys in a Sunday school class. I was never much on the required teaching parts of our class; I just never really understood it. I probably would have if I had read over it, listened to the teacher in charge and asked questions, but I figured I was a fill-in and as long as we hit the highlights we were good. Well that just didn't work. That age group is a fidgety group, and I figured I had to come up with something more extreme

So, during the time I met with the boys I would get them in a circle outside, in a corner on the floor or anyplace but the table. I would make up grand tales of adventure, hunting bear, fishing for shark, climbing mountains and other exciting stories. After I had their attention I would include how the Scripture or virtue of that week fit into the hog hunt with spears on horseback story I had told

Early on I wondered if I had made any impact on the boys or if they heard even a small piece of God's Word I was sharing with them? In my heart I wanted them to hear that part of the story. Then I began to get comments from the director of the youth ministry at church, from moms who had a boy in my class and others

"I don't know what bear hunting had to do with what you were teaching my son, but he has not stopped talking about it all week," one mom said

My little stories and the moral of the story were being shared and actually making an impact in some little way.

What I learned from that was that we all listen and learn in different ways, and that is OK. Boys can be distracted easily and unless you can engage them, they will miss a lot of the lessons they need to learn. They are designed to roll in the dirt, learn with their hands, associate meaning with physical motion. Today the kids are Go Pro, Red Bull, extreme sports and video erudite. Things are fast and wide open to them

One of the hardest things to teach a kid is to listen. Watch any kid walking down the street today, and I challenge you to see one go more than a minute or two without looking at their phone. What about reading a book in a quiet nook in their room or a window sill as the sun shines down warming their back? It is a rare kid, mine included.

The Bible talks a lot about listening. In the book of James, he shares, (1:19) “Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger,” in Proverbs 19:27, “Cease to hear instruction, my son, and you will stray from the words of knowledge.

Recently I was interviewing kids from our ministry, Kids Outdoor Zone. I asked each the same questions. There was one answer that was consistent. I asked, “Have you ever experienced or heard from God at a KOZ meeting?" All of the kids who heard God speak heard him in their sit spots. A sit spot is a period of time in which we send the kids out into nature alone to sit under a tree, along a creek, on a rock in the sun, in nature. But alone and with the mission to speak to and listen for God.

Wow. It was incredible. Almost everyone told me stories of God speaking to them, to their hearts. I cried as one of them described in detail how God loved him and told him to, “Stick with it."

I think we all need to find sit spots where we turn everything off and talk to Him but even more important, listen to Him. So often we miss the still quiet voice that wants to help us through something, help us make a good decision or just let us know all is well

As usual I need to pay attention to my own words here. We all need to be examples of listening for the next generation. If a small kid is talking to you, bend down and get eye to eye with them. Don't pick up your phone when driving your kids to school in the morning. Ask them not to pick up theirs.

When you first get together with your wife in the evening, let her talk. Do we really need to re-check our e-mails from when we left the office or sat in our car in the driveway before we came into the house? Do people really expect us to reply from our work e-mail at 7, 8 or 9 p.m.? Do we really need to listen to our family at night, talk with and listen for God each day? Of course.

Hemmingway had it right. "I like to listen. I have learned a great deal from listening carefully. Most people never listen."  I need to get it right, too.

Shoot to Kill and Heal, My Biggest Fear Today

Our street dead ends into a small grassy easement that leads to the back of a schoolyard. Crossing alongside the school property you end up in a nice city park. The whole time our kids were in middle school we walked them to the end of the street, followed the trail and then to school. To this day we walk that route to relax, exercise the dogs and enjoy the time outdoors. There is also a nice pasture property across the street from our house. From all that green space we get some pretty amazing wildlife activity.

Hearing coyotes at sunset is common from our house. Seeing fox, deer, skunks, raccoons and possum is not a big deal.  A few years ago I heard the coyotes going crazy, and I knew they had taken something down. The next morning I went to explore the end of the street, the pasture and green space. There was a big old deer almost completely eaten. I knew this guy; one of his legs was messed up. There was a blood and fur trail from the fence out into the middle of the field. He didn't make it over to get away this time…

My wife is a city girl, the baby of three girls, and never knew hunting or guns until she married into our family. I could not be more proud of her and how she has accepted the lifestyle. Almost all the meat we eat in our home is from game we harvested. She acquired her personal carry licenses and is proficient with most firearms. She still loves to shop and do all the things a city girl loves, but she is not afraid to take care of business like a country girl.

Not long ago as she and our youngest son walked the dogs down the street toward the park they saw a cat lying in the tall grass off the side of the worn trail. They recognized it as one of the feral cats that lives in the woods down there, nameless but recognized. It was moving slightly, erratic.

"Oh my, he must be hurt or sick. Quick, son, go get the gun. We have to put him out of his misery," she said with care and concern in her voice. Our son looked at her in disbelief -- who is this lady? They kept walking, and she repeated her request to him and to hurry; she did not want this kitty to suffer.  Whatever its fate had been she would end the pain and misery.

They moved closer to assess the wounds when the cat sprung up, looking at the humans and dogs. It evaluated its exit strategy and raced unscathed into the woods and its safe haven. My son laughed so hard his sides hurt.

A couple days ago as I sat in a coffee shop working, my phone rang.

"Honey, I think Rudy (our sons Border Collie) has killed one of the chickens," were the desperate and sad words my wife used. On occasion, as he does what Border Collies do, round up livestock or chickens in our case, one gets roughed up a bit.

"She is lying there, and I think she is hurt bad. You have to come home right away and shoot it. I don't want her to suffer."

I told her I had to complete the tasks at hand, and she was going to have to muster up the strength to pick up the poor wounded chicken and put it into the coop until I got home.

She was not happy with the idea of touching it but agreed.

"OK, I will," was the stressed and sad tone I heard from her.

Hours passed, and I called her to see how she was. She started right in telling me about the current project she was working on and other family news and information. I stopped her and asked how the chicken was and how bad it was moving her broken and bloody corpse into the coop.

"Oh, she is fine. She is with the rest of them and doing fine. I guess she wasn't hurt -- just stunned or something."

I laughed so hard I almost wrecked my truck.

My oldest son Cody Ryan has a fishing partner, David. David has struggled with a life-threatening illness for years. He has actually undergone hundreds of surgeries and continues to fight. One of the things that keeps David going is tournament bass fishing. He loves it and is quite accomplished at the national collegiate level. Just a few months ago, though, he was the sickest we had seen him experience. The doctors had little to no hope he would come out of a long coma that consumed him.

Everyone prepared for the worst, but hundreds of people prayed for healing. He came back, and it was nothing short of a miracle. In February, just a few months after his near-death experience, they fished their first tournament of the year and took third place. David also caught the second biggest bass of the event, the kicker that put them in the money. It was incredible. I cried as I read the tournament press release.

I have seen God heal the sick. I have seen myself, people, he has given the gift of healing. Use that gift to heal others. Does he always heal the sick? Does he always remove the cancer or bring someone out of a coma? No. Does He love on us, stand with us, care for us as we mourn the loss of someone? Yes. I cannot answer why some are healed and some are not. He knows. I don't. I do know that through the process, through pain, I learn my most intimate lessons about Him and me.

I found myself a little uneasy as of recent around the house. I have kept quiet about the sniffles and headache I had a few days ago. I used to be able to take a pretty good nap on the couch, but I am not sure about laying around our house these days. I can just hear it now, "Oh geeze, dad is sick. He looks out of it. This is it, the end. I guess we need to get the gun."

Your Place in the Picture

As the owners, publishers and founders of Country Line Magazine Sandra and I made a decision not long after we began this  adventure. We decided that we would never use the magazine to tear somebody down, we would never accept questionable advertising and we would give the glory and the honor to God. Over the years there have been many long days, time away from our kids and hardships we have struggled with. Most small family owned businesses do. We have also had some incredible moments and a lot of fun.

About five or six years ago we began a ministry for kids. Again, incorporating our passion for kids, the outdoor and the Lord, Kids Outdoor Zone was born. The ministry takes primarily, but not only, kids without dads on outdoor adventures. We also train men and women in churches to do what we do and they too come alongside kids they know and mentor them in outdoor adventures. And it has grown.

One of the most amazing and rewarding things that comes from the magazine is when a single mom tells us she found out about the ministry in those pages and brought her son. That through that connection his life has changed, that he accepted Christ, that he found a male role model or friends in KOZ.

Because of the support of the advertisers, and the readers, the lives of kids are changed. Forever. Each year we send out a letter to the folks who have donated to the ministry looking for support to take it through the end of the year and into the next. It is because of the generous support of those who see the vision of KOZ it is possible.

We would like to offer the letter to you this month and if you are so move, please help us in the quest to train more mentors and to make sure there is "No Kid Left Inside".

From TJ & Sandra Greaney: Kids Outdoor Zone,

I wanted to cry. I wanted to beat my fist against the wall. I wanted to take him up and rescue him when I heard the story. A little boy who was left at home while his mother enjoyed the beach with her newest boyfriend on a long weekend said he really did not care. He said he was fine and that he was used to it. He just wished he had not missed KOZ that weekend. He is 11.

 That is the story we hear over and over again. The stories of the kids make a KOZ leader strong in their pursuit of their hearts. Even a small glimpse of a kid's rescued heart brings exhilaration, satisfaction and a joy that is hard to express in words. It has wrecked, for His good, even the toughest leaders.

 Because of your support this year we have impacted more kids than ever before with life-changing experiences in outdoor adventure and through committed mentors. The stories include so many victories. A boy stepping up and mentoring another younger than he, both from fatherless homes. Girls weeping with joy and claiming an empowerment they have never known then accepting Christ as the Father they have never known. Incredible, and the stories go on and on.

 As the Christmas season comes and year-end giving is upon us we would like for you to consider the impact your support provides for KOZ kids. The needs are many -- growing the program, curriculum, training leaders, gear, trailer, land.

 The majority of the kids who come to our camps, adventures and meetings have little or no financial means. Most have no father nor male role model at home. Their lives consist of broken promises and abandoned dreams. It is the support of our donors that has made KOZ available to the hearts of thousands of kids and the adult leaders who care for them.

 "I don't know how to thank you. My son has come back to me. KOZ is what he needed, and I am so grateful for those men. Thank you, God, for KOZ," explained a mom after summer camp, tears rolling down her cheeks.

 We know God is the foundation of this program. Matthew 7:24-27: “Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall because it had its foundation on the rock."

 If you would like to meet and talk about possible land donations or other ways you can support the program, please call me personally: (512) 789-3838.

Donations can be made with this envelope or online at www.KidsOutdoorZone.com

Thank you.

In battle for their hearts,

TJ Greaney
Founder, Kids Outdoor Zone

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

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.