A Name Means Something

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

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

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

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.

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?

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

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