How To Do Life: A Manual for Living My Life if Anything Happens

It had been bugging me for weeks. The weather was off-and-on warm -- not hot but warmer. That meant for my family that there was the possibility they might sweat and so they turn on and down the air conditioner. I want to open windows, but they just hit the magic button and the house cools down. Now I do want them to be comfortable, especially the Mrs. She has occasional periods of time when regardless of the temperature she is on fire, but I digress. So what was bugging me – no, not the battle over the use of the A/C -- it was the filter. I knew it was way past the time to change it, and if I didn't get it done, it would just be that much harder on the old system. So I went to the store at 9 o'clock at night and got two of them.

While I was out, I got to thinking about who would do all that stuff if I wasn't here to do it. If I wasn't here when the wood trim needed to be replaced or the dryer wasn't drying. I suppose it is all relative, and there are plenty of service companies offering the help. But thinking about it, I just felt like there are a lot of things I do and that I should probably write a manual in case something happens to me.

Chapter One: Mechanical and Home. This list of course includes all types of things like A/C filters and toilet flappers. I would say that there needs to be a regularly scheduled walk of each room and facility. Check for loose screws on doors and knobs, check for tight mounting on toilet paper holders, check for dryer vent cleanliness, light bulbs and window screens. The gutters, French drains, fertilizing of the yard and bug control need to be in this chapter. Gas for the blower, mower and weed eater needs to be available but not overstocked and never, never leave fuel in the equipment for a long period of time.

Chapter Two: The Partnerships. The obvious ones are at work. Deadlines, scheduling, creative elements and meetings. This is a tough one. I guess that a look back at my day timer would explain a lot, and a blanket email to everyone on my contacts would get some of it done. But these are the things in life we are just set out to do. We can be replaced, mostly, for the tasks, but our creative and personal touches are hard to match if we are truly engaged in what we do.

Chapter Three: The personal part of the manual is going to be really hard to get everything down.  Again, the mechanical decisions will happen. The tire for my daughter’s truck or a baseball bat for my son. The financial can be taken over by mom. Moms do this stuff all the time. The bill payer who sneaks a few bucks into a savings account each month or handles the taxes and knows the nuances of the family CPA.

But it's the male figure, the father leading the family, final answer, decision maker, the real dad stuff. It's the arm around my boys when they need a guy to tell them job well done. It's the conversations on the way to school each morning with my boy, a dad praying over his son, blessing him, encouraging him before he steps onto the school grounds. It's those times only dad knows when to push the boy to do just a little more, stay on it, go, lift, hold, run, stand, look, do hard things. How to use a hammer and the importance of opening the door for a girl. To listen to a business plan or a struggle in his first years of marriage. To celebrate the victories, successes and joys with him guy to guy.

This section has to find a way to fill the needs of my daughter too. How to comfort a daughter who needs to know safety is only as far away as daddy. A daddy is the hard guy who says no but hugs her and tells her how proud he is of her and how beautiful she is. Who teaches her to do hard things, to stand strong in her convictions, shoot a gun, gut a deer, buy auto parts. Daddy teaches, shows by his example, to never settle for a guy who does not open her door or want to meet her parents, go to church or listen to her.

How do I explain the little nuances I have learned about my wife over the last 20 years that are absolutes. Movies, dreams, favorite snacks and workout tapes. The joy she gets from cleaning the house and that there is one laundry soap allowed.

Chapter four: warranties and guarantees. There are so many examples in the Bible where only God had the answer. Where He was the blessing, the caregiver, the rock, the joy, the guide. The only way I can figure out how to get chapter three to work is to instill the heartfelt knowledge of our heavenly Father in my kids and for my wife to feel it from me while I am here. For them to know He is there no matter what and by that they get strength to go to Him for comfort and direction and find a safe haven.

This is really the most important part of the manual. It is the last chapter that should probably be the first. God is the Guy who services the warranties and guarantees. He even wrote them down for us (Bible) so we would have them handy.

I guess it boils down to: There is an extra a/c filter in the closet, fertilize two times a year, and as my buddy Joe Don Mayes always says, "Read the Bible; do what it says". Seems simple, right?

The Amazing Heart

The heart. Definition:  An incredible muscle in our body that works its tail off to keep us alive. Interesting facts: The average adult heart beats 72 times a minute; 100,000 times a day; 3,600,000 times a year; and 2.5 billion times during a lifetime. Though weighing only 11 ounces on average, a healthy heart pumps 2,000 gallons of blood through 60,000 miles of blood vessels each day. A kitchen faucet would need to be turned on all the way for at least 45 years to equal the amount of blood pumped by the heart in an average lifetime. During an average lifetime, the heart will pump nearly 1.5 million gallons of blood—enough to fill 200 train tank cars. Grab a tennis ball and squeeze it tightly: that’s how hard the beating heart works to pump blood. Interesting.

When I was working a temporary job in Houston a few years ago, I had full coverage insurance. I used that opportunity to have a complete heart checkup. They put me on a monitor, a treadmill, scans, x-rays and more. The whole time asking me why was I there. I just wanted to know that my heart was solid. 

When they were done the report came back. Physically I was in great shape, the heart was good. No problems, and no reason to worry. 

My concern since then is still my heart, but it is not so much the muscle sweating in my chest, but the emotional, gut feeling, driving force that works as hard or harder as its physical brother. It is that deep inside feeling, that over the top elation, the ground pounding sadness, the quiet comfort.

My heart hurts when I hear stories of loneliness, abandon, loss and confusion. I can be moved to tears just watching a show or even a commercial on television. This morning as we were leaving our men's Bible study, one of our guys told how he was worried about his aging father -- how his dad was getting older and falling a lot. In his eyes you could see the pain his heart was feeling. He was asking what to do, how to help, how to be helpful without disrespect to his dad. He said, "Next week we are going to have to pray for him." Well my buddy and I just smiled and said in unison, "Let's pray right now."  And we did.  The heartfelt joy of prayer is new for me in the last few years; sharing it is awesome, and I dig it.

The hearts of children are a big part of my life with our ministry today. I love experiencing the overflow of love from the unspoiled places they carry inside. They will also share the deepest pain. Kids will say what they feel, what they think, what they have experienced and so often God speaks through them. We miss a lot when we do not listen to kids as we look into their eyes.

My kids are all going through some tough times in their lives. New schools, new friends, new experiences. It is so hard sometimes to not just swoop in and rescue them. We try to make sure we cover everything, begin and end everything, struggles to victories, with prayer. It doesn't always take away the hurts and provide immediate answers, but knowing God is listening and that we’ll eventually see His answer is comforting to my heart. The struggles can remain, but faith is the corner.

Zig Ziglar was an amazing motivational speaker who recently passed away. He was incredible. I read his books and went to see him when he was speaking in town. Millions of people took to heart his teachings and changed their lives forever. Once when I had the chance to meet him in person I had my Bible with me and asked him to autograph it. He was a mighty man of and for God. I was seeking to really make a difference in the world, to fill a huge hole in my heart with meaning. He wrote, "To Thomas, Romans 10:9," Zig Ziglar. Romans 10:9 says, "If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved." That day, that gift of a specific Scripture verse began to help me fill that space in my heart.

So I guess the thread I am trying to weave with here is that the heart you feel with is real, important and needs care. We are all designed perfectly to do something amazing. All the hardships and victories, the good and the bad, all those experiences have prepared each of us to do something incredible. For me that journey began when I prayed that prayer Zig Ziglar shared with me so long ago. 

Yes, the chicken fried bacon in Snook, Texas, is incredible. I love a whole plate of sweet potato fries from anywhere. A burger with everything on it is my favorite meal. Are these the best choices for me today if I am trying to care for the heart muscle in my chest? Not always. I know to be careful, smart.

Ah, but it is the emotional heart inside that is always hungry for more. The new year is upon us. Seize the day, don't wait. Ask God into your life and begin the adventure you never thought possible. The one your heart is seeking in those still and quiet moments -- today it begins. Romans 10:9.

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

People Watching and 1 John 2:16

People Watching 101. Don't stare. Eye contact is fine, but immediately go into a smile if you do find yourself in direct eye-to-eye contact. Guys, don't fall into lust and women, same goes for you. Get a few of the basic rules down and you can spend hours at a time having fun in popular, over-crowded and loud places.

I love the airport for people watching. I don't get there often but it is a great place to watch people in every mode imaginable. I like the rushers, they are either late to catch their plane or they are just always trying to be somewhere quickly. It's funny to see them right next to you after they rushed by with a wake of stress rolling over everyone behind them minutes earlier.

Kids are a big people pleaser for me, I love watching them in just about every age bracket. It is especially funny when a little kid walks up to you and just stares at you (a kids form of people watching) and the babies who look over mom's shoulder and start laughing at you as you make faces. 

Kids also say things in public that can be quite awkward for the parents and anyone nearby. I had a kid recently, randomly, start explaining that his mom and dad are separated and that his mom threw something at his dad. The story was about to go on when mom whisked him away.

Recently my wife and a group of women went to a Beth Moore conference. Moore is a dynamic Christian speaker and is absolutely amazing. She (my wife) and the other ladies she was with sat on the front couple rows where they could see every detail of the stage and Moore's presence. Her first comment to me when we finally talked about the conference was, "she had the cutest hair. She is so pretty, her shoes were so cute. I was distracted for the whole first hour by just how cute she was." I laugh each time I think of that.

Apparently women look each other over pretty hard. Guys for the most part don't think that way. I do, on occasion, notice a good looking guy and a nice suit even more. Not the same as the girls and the thoughts are fleeting especially if a nice truck drives buy or a server carrying a big hamburger catches my eye, I love a good burger.

The bible talks about people watching, or at least about the hazards, pitfalls and dangers. 1 John 2:16 says,” For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world.” For me, today, I have to be keenly aware of the things that distract me from my walk with God. I have to be careful not to feed into distractions and they can come from every direction. 

God has created some amazingly beautiful people and if you're in public you will encounter them. You have to be so careful not to fall into Satan's grasp here and obsess or stare past a point of personal distraction. This is probably the place a lot of folks are wounded or wound others.

Wikipedia even defines the art of people watching and it appears it is quite the sport. "People watching or crowd watching is the act of observing people and their interactions, usually without their knowledge. This differs from voyeurism in that it does not relate to sex or sexual gratification. Eavesdropping may accompany the activity, though is not required. Though often a casual hobby, it can be used formally as a means for sociological, anthropological or psychological research. Naturalistic observation is a more formal way of describing people watching in an academic sense. Writers also take up this act as means of reference or inspiration for things such as character construction and social interactions."

All the fun aside, I do have times when I see someone with a need. God does this too me every once in a while to see if I am really listening or watching. I once saw a guy working the parking lot at the grocery store. He wasn't an employee he was a homeless guy from what I concluded, asking people if they would give him money. I sat watching as he strategically confronted people walking to their cars. I was comfortably waiting in mine when I saw him hone in on an older woman. I could see that she became confused and fearful. I parked, got out of my truck and quickly made my way over to her.  I told the panhandler he had two minutes to get out of the parking lot as I helped the woman with her groceries. I don't remember her saying anything special back to me but then, I wasn't doing it for a thank you.

Watching God's plan play out in front of you can be fun and amazing. Participating in His plan can be even better. If you see me at Starbucks I am most likely doing some naturalistic observation while writing. Sometimes I get distracted and slip into wasting my time away on Facebook, ugh, make me stop if I am, coffee is on me.

Annabelli Mushrooms and Great Americans

Dennis Annabelli is an amazing guy. He is one of those people with whom I can sit and talk for hours on end. Lots of times when I drop by his office we get into trouble because time flies by and we aren't paying much attention. I have always loved the stories of hard working Americans who make it in life, and Dennis is one of those folks.

Recently one Saturday just before lunch I dropped by to see him at his office. We started chatting about life in general and what was going on with both of us. As the conversation went on he began telling me stories of when he was a young boy and his work in the family mushroom business. This was a story I had never heard.

He told how his father would rouse them early in the morning and they would work all day cutting mushrooms. All day was 12 or 14 hours with a short break for a sandwich, then right back at it. Three rows running the length of the barns, hundreds of feet long. The first row on your knees, the second bending over and the third off a ladder. Working side by side with the migrant workers and never letting up.

He would miss three days of school during each harvest session and when he showed back up and his teachers would ask him where he was, he said he would show them his thumb. The dirt from the work would stain their thumbs black for days after. The teachers knew that the farm boys were working, and that was that.

The family mushroom business thrived for years. The chores and the hard work were never questioned; when dad said to get something done you just did it. Eventually his father went to work for one of the big soup companies, and the mushroom chores were done. 

Today many kids have no idea what a family-owned farm or business takes to run. Many would have a hard time just telling you what their parent does for a living. The hard work that came with the mushroom business would be out of the question for most young people today.

David M. Kauppi, president Mid Market Capital, says historically less than 13 percent of third generation kids raised in a family business will stay in the business. When business founders were asked why they were successful, many say it is the long days -- up at 3 a.m. and down late -- that kept them from spending the money and thus the capital to stay successful. Today the lifestyle and a taste of the good life many of the founders’ kids enjoy keep them from sharing the passion and commitment of the business founder. They like the perks but lack the drive. Sounds familiar to lots of parents. I suspect.

The Bible tells us to work hard. 2 Thessalonians 3:10-12, “For even when we were with you, we would give you this command: If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat. For we hear that some among you walk in idleness, not busy at work, but busybodies. Now such persons we command and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living.” And Pope Paul VI agreed, "All life demands struggle. Those who have everything given to them become lazy, selfish and insensitive to the real values of life. The very striving and hard work that we so constantly try to avoid is the major building block in the person we are today." 

Some say the introduction of the air conditioner to the American public in the late ‘40s and early ‘50s is when Americans began to forget how to work hard. Many blame the introduction of the computer and television as the end.

Hard work is seldom something anyone wants to do day-in and day-out. For many it is just what they do. You get up, get the job done, then you do it again the next day. We are gifted by God to be in a country where if we do get up, work hard, strive and push, we can be successful and enjoy the fruits of our labor. Many lives have been given to afford us this the gift that is America -- a place where anyone who is willing to work hard and stay out of trouble can do mighty things.

My buddy, Dennis, was raised old school and has never considered not working hard and providing for his family. He is not alone. I was moved by his story of the mushroom farm because he was so matter of fact, so sincere, and the descriptions of the hard work were profound. 

"When my dad said something, we just did it. We never complained or questioned whether we had to do it -- we just did it," Annabelli explained. In his eyes you can see a sense of love for family and a deep respect for his father. The hard days as a child are now filtered by time, and the memories are empowering and joyful.

When we looked up there were two employees standing by his door waiting to talk to him, his phone had rang twice and his iPhone beeped once with a text message. Dang it, we did it again. We got carried away in conversation. I love that.

Mountain Top Spartan's Journal Page

How do you describe a "mountaintop" experience? You can tell people about it, you can describe in great detail each element. You can show them your scars or pictures. Some folks will be drawn into the storyline or experience with you; some may think you’re cool or weird. But when the sun sets, when the calendar changes, it is only you, maybe a group of folks who were there with you, who really get to log the experience into their life journal. 

A "mountaintop" experience to me is one that changes you from the inside. I have never experienced one that was not a spiritual event when I had them. They change how I think, how I treat others, how I spend my time. But the point is they change you in a deep way. I have had a small handful of MT experiences in the last five or so years, the most recent one was with my youngest son, and it was amazing. 

The morning air was cool at 6 a.m. The sun was threatening to light the horizon as we loaded into the truck to make the drive. My youngest, Jon-Michael (JM-14), his friend Ethan (15), Jeff and me. Jeff and I were the oldies in the truck; he is early 40s and I am 53. We were all signed up and have been planning to race in the Spartan Race, a grueling obstacle race of around six miles through the Hill Country of Texas. Climbing walls, running, climbing more walls, carrying or dragging concrete blocks, crawling through narrow pipes, rolling under barbed wire through the mud, scaling more walls and the list went on. Brutal. 

Why do you choose to do something like this? Why does anyone want to do something so hard, so grueling? Because you want to prove something to yourself, because you have been challenged, because everyone else is doing it? I can't speak for my teammates. I think each of us were there for different reasons. For me, I wanted to prove I could do it, all of it, without skipping an obstacle, without giving up, to push myself into a zone I had rarely experienced.

 

The purpose of military seal training is to make sure those guys will push through whatever they are confronted with at anytime for any reason. They are trained mentally, emotionally, physically to be more than they ever expected they could be. I am not comparing myself to one of those beasts, but it was one of the reasons I had to do this. To know I could push through the wall that keeps me at one level, that I was capable at 53 to "do hard things." 

I was also there because I wanted to see Ethan, one of the most committed young athletes I have ever known, kick the big boys’ butts. I wanted to have another page in my life journal with my dear friend Jeff and one that only the four of us would understand fully. But moreso, it was to do it with my son, Jon-Michael.

At 14 years old, boys tend to push back from family. They test the limits and boundaries. It's not unusual or unhealthy, it's just boys. For a while JM and I have struggled to find a connection. He has become bored with the things we used to do together. I struggle with it, and I know it is not just him. I have failed or dropped the ball so many times. But on this day, this event, I was calling for God to pull us together and create a connection, if not for just a day.

The first couple miles of the race were flat out running. The pace was a bit faster than my usual, so I had to push myself. JM is skinny and runs like a deer. He would appear and drop back, dash past and disappear again. There were a couple hundred running, and I was trying to find my pace and focus on me, but he taunted me with a smile and dust from his shoes as he jetted past. At about the middle of the course was an obstacle that included huge concrete blocks connected to a rope that ran up through a pulley. The objective was to pull the block all the way to the top before you could proceed. We arrived at the blocks at the same time. He was lighter than the block, and he struggled to get it to the top. I wanted to help him so badly, but I couldn't. I waited a few minutes after I was done then took off with him still struggling to complete the task. A few minutes later he showed up at the pipe crawl. A long crawl through a pipe where the only thing that got you to the end were your elbows dragging your body. That was the last I saw of him. He blew through the pipe and up the steep hill top before he was gone.

I think for the first half he was watching out for me. He has not said anything and I have not asked, but I think he was making sure the old man was not going to fall on his face, my heart explode from the strain or just not be able to get through it. When he saw I was not going to give up, he took off. When I finally reached the finish he was already there, cuts, scrapes, bruises, blood, sprained wrist and all. 

Proverbs 2: My son, if you accept my words and store up my commands within you, turning your ear to wisdom and applying your heart to understanding — indeed, if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding, and if you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure,
then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God. For the Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding. He holds success in store for the upright, he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless, for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones.

Then you will understand what is right and just and fair—every good path. For wisdom will enter your heart, and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul. Discretion will protect you, and understanding will guard you. 

Again I am holding back the tears as I consider all that happened that day, personally, physically, but mostly between my son and me. If only for a fleeting time, if only for now, we have written a page together in our life journals. It was hard, it was a test, it was amazing, it was perfect in so many ways and it can never be taken away. 

Seek the mountaintop, push through the valleys and ascend the other side. You can do it. You can do hard things. God will show you the way. He will hold you up. The true loving Father never, ever leaves His child behind. 

Today is just a few days after the race, but today I am anew, I am a Spartan. I will eat meat from the grill, I will drink ice tea from a large cup, I will plan the next mountaintop, I will take more Motrin because this Spartan is a sore Spartan.

Concrete Bridges and Pickles

The thick concrete bridge holds hundreds of thousands of cars, trucks, busses and other vehicles each week as they pass through the center of the city. Many of the drivers are listening to the radio, talking on their phones, conversing with other passengers or adrift in thought. To most of those passing by the bridge is unnoticed, except maybe the slight bump when it starts and when it finishes. But it is under that very bridge that the miracles happen, some subtle, some life changing right then and there.  

Brother Duane was the Spirit lead leader of the drifting and seemingly unwanted crowd that gathered here. He came to this spot in the cool mornings of spring, the sweltering days of summer, the freezing winters, rain or shine. He was called to the people here. Where a father goes so goes his family and Duane 's wife and kids often came along. They prayed with the lonely, they handed out sandwiches, they sang and cried, laughed and listened. It was an amazing time.

Then came the day Duane heard a new calling and moved his family to the country. It was a drastic change but exciting and it seemed a much needed time for rest and rejuvenation. His fifth child on the way and ideas for spending time with the little ones in a new, still, quiet place seemed perfect.

There was still lingering business and needs in the big city and trips back and forth were just a requirement. One day after completing the city tasks, Duane was driving back to the country when something went wrong. He was killed in a single vehicle accident.

The oldest of the five is precious Esalem. A petite, small blond girl with a infinite smile. She is energetic to a fault and like most young girls has more words to share than can be released in a day. Her father had been talking to her about the things that made living in the country fun. One of the ideas was hunting. He had promised to take her soon and as a young girl she build a world around the expectation and time to come with her daddy. They would never be able to take the adventure together.

I met Esalem just a few weeks after her daddy died. Her mom had heard of KOZ (Kids Outdoor Zone) and that we had a hunting trip for girls planned soon. Esalem was added to the list and was waiting on our porch early as we loaded the gear for the hunt. All the girls were excited as we made our way to the ranch. Esalem's mom had warned me to not allow her to only eat pickles, that she would if we let her, and during the drive we decided that would be her nickname, Pickles.

Each night, after the hunting, hiking, shooting and fun there were still quiet moments when I talked with the girls. Broken dreams, broken families and wounded hearts poured out in the safe confines of the ranch house. Pickles shared her heart. She told how just weeks before her daddy had promised to take her hunting and she would never get to go with him. Another girl shared with Pickles that she too had lost her dad in a similar way and how she makes it, sometimes, day by day. 

It's been several years now since that first outing and  Pickles has become a dear addition to our growing girls ministry. A couple weeks ago we went back for our third annual trip to the ranch where we spent that first weekend. Again, her heart was tender and open. We talked long into the night about how she felt and how sometimes, lots of times, it still hurts. She was especially emotional this trip. My heart cried.

Not far from the concrete bridge where Pickles daddy once shared the kindness of our loving Father is a small ministry coffee shop that is open to anyone who needs a break, rest, prayer or a meal.  Some of the same people who had gathered under the bridge frequent the coffee shop. On Easter I was invited there to serve ice cream and food for a few hours. Pickles was there. I watch in amazement as she moved about the volunteers and itinerant. She told me stories about some of the homeless who were there, their character traits, joyful and scary antics and quirks. She knew the people, the place was comfortable to her. The Spirit about her was one of joy.

We are blessed to mentor a lot of kids in our ministry. So many kids today are considered unwanted burdens. The crisis of  the fatherless is growing each day and those without the adult male role model are fighting odds that are not in their favor. Dropping out of school, pregnancy, jail, drugs and more are almost inevitable when there is no father or male mentor in the lives of a child. The temporary or live-in boyfriends make things worse. 

Even though Pickles daddy wasn't there in body at the coffee house on Easter, I could see him clear as day. His legacy in his precious towheaded daughter brought joy and happiness to those she interacted with. His work ethic, his love of the Lord and his ear for the Holy Spirit when He is present are gifts Pickles has embraced and understands at a level beyond her years. 

 As Jesus was preparing His disciples for His departure He told them in John 14: 25-27, “All this I have spoken while still with you. ²⁶ But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. ²⁷ Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." 

So many kids never get the blessing of a Godly father's legacy. Although it is going to be tough, Pickles daddy left her gifts beyond measure here on earth. She is a good kid. No, she is an amazing kid and I am blessed by her every time I get to come alongside her and hear her heart, laugh with her, pray with her, teach her about hunting and fishing. I have probably let her eat to many pickles and talk me into letting her stay up just a tad bit later at the camps. The other day I let her order the Extra Long Chili Cheese Dog at Dairy Queen, it was almost as big as she is tall. She ate every bite of it and ice cream to boot. A joyful indulgence for one of God' s lambs and my little angels. Reach out - change a life, help someone else, love on your family. Email Carla at Packed for Life to help at the coffee shop, info on Church Under The Bridge or donate. info@packedforlife.org