Category Archives: My Life

My Poison Ivy Metaphor

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Given that I am battling with a bout of poison ivy here lately, I thought I could turn it into a metaphor for sin.

Poison ivy is the curse of sin that was passed on to us from our first parents, Adam and Eve. Scratching the itch of poison ivy is the actual sin. Now anyone who has had poison ivy knows that the wages of scratching is certain death. But it’s hard to tell this to the person who is being taunted by the itch. All he wants to do is scratch it. Even though doctors, mothers, nurses, friends and all of society have said, “don’t scratch it.” He wants to scratch it.

It calls to him. It begs him. It taunts him. He wants to give in, but knows that he should not. So he convinces himself that maybe if he just scratched it a little bit, just on the edges, just for a few moments, then it would be “OK” to scratch. Yes, logically, he knows that scratching it is sinful, but will just a little bit of scratching be OK?

He scratches just on the edge of the wound. O, the pleasure that fills his body. His arms actually get chill bumps. It feels so good. He thinks to himself, “How could something that feels this good, be so wrong.” Now it has him. He is no longer scratching just on the edges of the wound, he is in full-fledged scratching. Just like a dog, he is scratching and scratching. It is wonderful.

He finally stops. Reasoning with himself that all is OK. Only a little bit of sin was OK. But it’s not. Now it is even worse than before. All the scratching he did achieved nothing more than to bring about more of a desire to scratch. The desire is even greater now and it has him. Not one moment of scratching gave him any real satisfaction at all. It just led to more desire, desire that would not be quenched or satisfied.

He needs help. He needs intervention. But anyone who knows about poison ivy realizes, there just not much you can do for it. You can cover it up with the pink stuff, but alas, that doesn’t cure the problem only makes the itch go away. He can take the pills from the doctors office. Again, they help but do not make it go away. He needs real help.

OK, that is as far as I can take the metaphor. Please pray for me that I would get over this rotten bout of poison ivy.

Monster Truck Rally and Tractor Pull

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“Take your earplugs.” That is what the lady said to me when I bought the tickets yesterday afternoon. I told the boys all week that I would take them to the Monster Truck Rally and Tractor Pull at the fairgrounds if we could afford it, and when I found out that Joey got in for free, I couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. The boys seemed very excited about seeing monster trucks.

I told the lady at the ticket counter that I had never been, so what should I expect. She said to take my ear plugs. So I did. I’m glad I did. It was loud when the monster trucks opened it up. You could feel power. I did have trouble with Joey, but Andy dutifully wore his plugs, as did I. I decided to quit trying to get Joey’s plugs in his ears and just reached over and covered them whenever an event transpired.

We didn’t actually get to see the monster truck portion of the show. I guess the emphasis should have been on the tractor pull since that is what a bulk of the show was about. That made it hard for Joey to watch. For a 4 year old, there is a good portion of time between on pull and another. He wanted to walk around and get ice cream and go to the restroom and tackle me as I tried to watch the show. He didn’t really want to watch the show.

But Andy did. I think he loved it. So I held out for Andy. We watched as long as he wanted to watch. Fortunately, he got hungry and we left before the tractor pull competition concluded and headed for McDonald’s, much to Joey’s delight. I think Joey needs a few more years before he can truly appreciate the finer things in life.

Here are few video clips of our time there.

Swords & Shields

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Swords and shields seems to have been the theme of the week. Andy’s school, Augustine School, was having it’s award’s banquet on Thursday night and the goal is always to play dress up in the process. This year’s theme was the Middle Ages. We chose to dress the boys up in the appropriate crusader garb, since this falls into the Middle Ages. However, before anybody complains, please know that we dressed our boys up for the one “good” crusade, which was the first one. That crusade started in order to protect Christians from the continual attacks from the Islamic hordes coming up from the Middle East.

Elisa made the tunic’s with the red cross, and the shields. Joey’s shield has the Dean coat of arms, and Andy’s shield sports the Hamilton heritage. I wanted her to put the Hammons’ coat of arms on one of them, but neither boy was particularly impressed with that coat of arms. I guess as a family, we just were not that fancy.

My responsibility was the swords. Given that, I sought to make swords that would last a life time and made them out of solid oak. I elicited some help from Mr. Jimmy at the church. He’s the guy to go to if you want to make anything because he can make anything. He has built an entire house using only hand tools, and made complete cars at times. So he knows how to make things. He helped on the initial cuts and the handles.

I focused on cutting the points, sanding them down, and engraving the names on the swords. I didn’t realize it when I started them, but Andy said that all swords have names. He named his “Thunder.” Joey went with more of a mystical name. He named his sword “Dragon Tooth!” I liked it so much that I just spent the last 2 hours engraving the names into the wood. All that is left to do is stain the swords and put some clear coat on them to preserve the finish… as much as you can preserve the finish of two toys that are meant to be bashed against one another.

As for the banquet, it was a typical banquet. I was only excited about the part where my boy was involved. Andy did a great job reading his sentence from the book the kindergarteners read to us. He read the sentence, “the goat went up the road.” I was so proud of him. He read that sentence with authority and confidence.

After that point in the banquet proceedings… I got bored. So did Joey. Augustine School is a classical school. This means they are quite proud of their accomplishments in teaching our children. They are so proud, that at the end of every quarter, they have another recitation service in which we listen to some of the things that our children have learned. For instance, the kindergarten class worked on the Westminster Confession of Faith’s shorter catechism questions. Andy knows the first 20 questions and the class recited Q. 13. Did our first parents continue in the estate wherein they were created? A. Our first parents, being left to the freedom of their own will, fell from the estate wherein they were created, by sinning against God.

This really is good because Andy has memorized more great theology than the average Christian knows in their entire lifetime. I know that sounds like hyperbole… but given the estate of the American church… (heavy and sad sigh…) The point is that after going to these recitations, it gets rather old. They should probably just have one a year.

It was at the point of Andy reading his sentence for us that both Joey and I got bored. It was also at that point that Joey had to go to the bathroom. Off we trotted to the men’s room where I discovered something about costumes and little boys. When it comes to long flowing tunics, take them off the boy before he takes care of business. Little girls probably know to lift up the back part of their costumes, but Joey didn’t know that. Much of his tunic… got wet in the toilet. I slowly removed the tunic from him so that it wouldn’t exacerbate the problem. Then I rolled it up to minimize the yucky part. Getting Joey to go back to the table was a bit difficult. I wanted him to go sit with Elisa while I ran the tunic out to the car. He stayed with Elisa just long enough. Then he was up again. Before I got back, he was already in the lobby wanting to go outside and play.

Joey doesn’t like to sit still for long, and his quota had come and gone. We went outside. I used to complain about having to watch him at such events because I ended up missing these events. But after so many of them, I start encouraging Joey. “Joey, don’t you want to go outside and run all over the beautiful campus of Union University?”

He always answer in the affirmative and off we go. I have grown to love the campus of Union University. It really is a pretty campus. Plus, there are plenty of buildings for Joey to run around while the banquets and recitations expire. It did eventually expire and I count the entire evening as a roaring success. I got to see my son recite what he knew in front of 500 people, AND, I missed out on those long dissertations given by school administrators. Yup. Clearly a success.

Plus, we have really neat wooden swords to show for it.

Vindication

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Vindication. It’s not something we get to experience very often. I know that in my 15 years as a pastor, I have only experienced vindication one time. That was back after I stepped down as pastor from Trinity Baptist Church in Dallas (now closed). I was shopping at an area grocery store and saw one of the former members, Mary Alexander. Mary was the 92-year-old matriarch of the church (this is another way of saying that she thought that gave her a right to control everything). There was a sweetness to her, despite that, but she was my harshest critique and biggest challenge.

I remember one time in the midst of a business meeting, she announced that I needed to realize I was the CEO of the church, and that I was responsible for everything. It took everything I had in me not to say, “Well if I’m the CEO of the church, you are all fired!“

Another time she interrupted me in the midst of some presentation in a business meeting and wanted to know why we didn’t have a periodicals table. Apparently, at one point in the history of this comatose church, there had been a periodicals table in the lobby. It was full of things to read and that was the reason why the church was not growing and thriving… we didn’t have a periodicals table. Yes, let this be a lesson to all elders, deacons, control-freak matriarchs! Your church can only thrive as long as you have a periodicals table! After much debate, it was decided that I would put out a periodicals table in the lobby. We really didn’t have much for the table, so I would put out every piece of junk mail we got, including the catalog from the company that sells floor mats. That satisfied her… for a brief moment.

I did everything I could with that church to see if the Lord would turn it around. However, there wasn’t much I could do. No matter what I suggested, those left in the church were strongly opposed to it. The only suggestions I would get from them were things that were completely impossible in our state of expiring. For instance, Pete Smallwood, the lone mobile deacon, wanted me to start a youth club. That was the answer in his mind because the youth club brought them back to their glory days… aka the 1950s when every church thrived. There was just a small problem with that. We didn’t have any youth to start a youth club. We did have one family come once that had children the perfect age for a youth club. But the father never would return my phone calls. I imagine that he took one look at that congregation and realized what I didn’t want to admit to myself: the church was already dead.

The best thing for Trinity Baptist would have been for us to close the doors, give the remaining assets to area missions and all go join thriving churches. After all, this was in Dallas. There were no lack of thriving churches to join. I did suggest this at one business meeting, but quickly backed down once they started boiling the tar and plucking the chickens.

As time wore on, I slowly realized that there was nothing I could do with the congregation. I was doing my best to preach and pastor faithfully. I started by preaching through Ephesians, and after I finished that book, I went to the gospel of John. All the while, they were saying things like “great sermon” on the way out the door, but “you need to preach good Baptist doctrine” at other times. This really confused me. What was good Baptist doctrine? Given the fact that I was attending Dallas Theological Seminary, I thought I was preaching good Baptist doctrine.

I wasn’t. I was becoming a Calvinist in my convictions even though at that time, I was clueless about what a Calvinist was. Needless to say, but I’m still saying it, the Bible was shaping my convictions and beliefs. I guess TBC wasn’t used to that. They wanted me to preach on the evils of drinking, and have an altar call every Sunday. I hated that. I would give altar calls, and the same fellow student would walk the aisle every Sunday because of the convictions he was having about his sin. I’m glad he was convicted. But I didn’t really feel he needed to tell me about it every Sunday.

Finally, I did ask Mary about good Baptist doctrine. I was walking around the Sunday school classes before service one morning and over heard Mary trying to get the proxy vote from one of the other members (this is something that no church should ever allow. Proxy votes give one or two people too much power. Peter Smallwood used them regularly). I over heard her saying, “we’ve got to get rid of this pastor. He is teaching too much Dallas doctrine! I need your proxy vote.” The only reason I’m sure I heard her correctly is that the woman she was petitioning for the proxy vote was hard of hearing. Mary had to yell those words.

I couldn’t believe it. Mary was trying to muster the forces in order to force me out. What betrayal was this?

I confronted her immediately. She wouldn’t look at me or answer me. I pressed the issue. Finally she said, “we got to get rid of you. You keep preaching Dallas doctrine instead of good Baptist doctrine!”

“What is good Baptist doctrine?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but that’s not it.”

I was slowly coming to the realization that things were not going to work out like I hoped. Reality was slowly taking over foolish optimism. My days were numbered at TBC.

There are always signs to a church’s demise. The refusal to hear good, solid Biblical preaching is one of them. The other, is how they view the use of money.

The church had money, like a lot of old churches do. But they were unwilling to spend it on any real, significant ministry. I’ve come to the conclusion since that time that the worst thing that can happen to a church is to be given a large amount of money. The leadership tends to become tight-fisted misers and ministry goes out the window. In other words, holding on to the money is more important than reaching the lost. Pete Smallwood was the perfect example. He would do anything and everything to keep from spending money for ministry. I’m convinced that he was just waiting for the church to die off so he could pocket the change. After I stepped down from being the pastor, they did finally take some of my advice and sold the building. Pete was the one who worked the deal. He told the congregation he sold it for a mere $75,000. He told them it was an old building, so it wasn’t worth much. Never mind the fact that is was PRIME real estate in the middle of Dallas. I later met with the pastor who ended up with the building and found out that Pete got more like $600,000 for the property. The miser in him, kept the money hidden from the congregation. They later got it all, after Pete suddenly died at his desk from a heart attack. The hand of God?

It was after all that took place that I saw Mary Alexander in the area Kroger. She was sitting in a chair, clipping coupons. I really sensed the Spirit moving in me to go speak to her. For the first year after I stepped down, that would not have been a possibility because I was too hurt from the entire experience. I needed time to heal from it. As a typical man, a lot of my identity is wrapped up in what I do and my success in what I do. I have had to die to that idol over and over again. There is no room for it in the ministry. The point being that it really took some time to heal and seeing her on that day was part of the healing.

I smiled as I walked over to her. There was an empty chair next to her and a plopped down in it. She looked up from her coupons and smiled. We exchanged pleasantries. It was good to see here. Even after all that had happened at TBC, I was glad to see Mary. I asked her how things were going and she admitted not very well. That is when it finally came about. She simply said, “we should have listened to you when you were there. You were right.” I couldn’t believe that Mary admitted it. But she did and I simply said “thank you.”

That was the moment of my vindication. It was sweet. But more than that, despite all the conflict that Mary and I had, I saw the Spirit moving in her as well. For a good portion of time, I doubted her salvation. She was such a pain. I have realized just how much conflict true believers can have with one another. The question should never be, “is that person saved?” If they are in the church, professing faith in Christ, we must trust in that.

The question should be, “are they following the Spirit’s leading, or the leading of the flesh?” (Just look at the church at Corinth and all the sin that was taking place there.) For most of the the members of TBC, it was the more often than not, the flesh. Whenever the flesh rears it’s ugly head is the moment that a church becomes less and less healthy. If that continues, then God removes the lampstand, as He did with TBC. I’m sure that most of them have gone on to be with the Lord. That was back in 1995 when all that started. The fellow students that were helping me there, all graduated and went off to their own ministries and the rest of the congregation were in their 70s and above.

I’m glad I had the experience in hind site. But it wasn’t easy when I was there. When a church reaches a state that they are holding on to their past, or their money instead of Christ, they need to close their doors. TBC learned the hard way, despite my efforts. Yet God in His goodness, gave me that one moment of vindication. It would be nice to have more moments like that, but we have to trust the Lord. He is the One who is ultimately vindicated for His glory. That should be our focus, not our own vindication.

I’m Golfing for Charity Today

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Yes, one of the perks… the only perk that I can think of, is that I get to golf on Team Grace in the Area Relief Ministries annual golf scramble. Today is the day! I haven’t golfed since last year’s golf scramble, so I am excited about the prospects of getting on the course. I know, my game hasn’t improved since last year, but it probably hasn’t gotten much worse either. The point is, I get to golf!

To me, golfing is like taking a mini-vacation. It’s a chance to get away from the worries of life and face the less serious worries of the game, which in my case, are no worries at all. I know I’m a bad golfer so my expectations are not high. My hope: one birdie at best, or a par or two. I plan on buying a few Mulligan tickets so I can take some extra shots out there. For those of you who don’t know,  a Mulligan is a “do over!” ARM sells them for $10 a piece. They make the game more fun, and raise more money for the poor! Remember, it’s all about raising money for the poor!

On Turning 50!

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Joey at my Dad's ranch.

Yes, today is the big day. By God’s grand and glorious mercy, I turn 50 years old today. I am truly thankful that He has blessed me with so many years. It’s another testimony of His mercy towards me in not giving me what I deserve, but showing me grace and kindness instead. Amen and amen.

After my experience of turning 40, I thought this day would be hard as well. (The good people of First Presbyterian Church of Osceola, AR brought me a wheelchair on that day… and took me to a cake that was covered with black icing. It took me years to get over that. In fact, my counselor said just last week, “get over it you big oaf!” So I do forgive Lance and Patty for what they did.)

Seriously, I do feel blessed today at turning 50. I know there are those who will say that a good portion of my life is behind me, to which I say, “I’m saving the best for last!” Just look at how God has blessed me since my 40th birthday. He has given me a beautiful wife, and two wonderful sons. Life is so much better with a loving family. The constant joys of family are a true reminder of God’s goodness to us.

For example, just last night, Joey was standing in the doorway to my office as we were heading for the bathroom for their nightly baths. He stretched his legs out to make a bridge for Andy and told him to crawl through. Andy did. Then he told me I had to crawl through as well. I dropped down on my chest and started crawling through his legs, and almost got through before he fell on top of me in true “rolling on the floor” laughter. He kept trying to get up off me and make me go through, but every time, he fell down again. Maybe in a couple of years.

It is at moments like that I realize how much God has blessed me. We are not rich, or popular, but we are loved by our God and He has blessed us in so many ways that far surpass the things of this world. That is probably the best lesson I’ve learned in the last 10 years.

I might sum it up like this: know and be known by Christ, love your family and see the world for what it is (passing away.) God’s goodness and riches are the true riches of life. All others pass like the latest electronic fad.

As for my birthday today, I’m enjoying a cup of hot coffee in my new favorite mug. Elisa and the boys give me a new mug every year for Christmas and this year they gave me one with the Texas flag on it. I love it. I’m also wearing a new shirt they gave me for my birthday. I would be wearing a new pair of shoes, but Dick’s Sporting Goods doesn’t carry my size, so we had to order them off the internet. I was so bummed last night when they told me that. I don’t get to buy new shoes very often, so it was exciting to go to the store in the hopes of wearing new shoes last night. It didn’t happen. The new shoes should arrive in 3 to 5 business days via FedEx.

Regardless of that minor set back, I’m already having a wonderful birthday. Joey has already come in and crawled up in my lap. Elisa is planning a big breakfast of sausage, French toast, eggs and bacon. Later today, we will have a big dinner before I leave for the church tonight of chicken fettuccine Alfredo and birthday cake. And no, this birthday cake will not be covered in black icing. She is making me a cake that looks like a racecar. Not that I care about it being in the shape of a racecar. But there is a 6 year old that feels the cake has to be in that shape for me to be happy. It doesn’t get any better than that.

Blue Creek Bliss: A Glimpse of Heaven

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I think God gives us glimpses of heaven on this side of glory. There is the joy of a new borne babe, the joy of a loved one coming to know Christ and the joy of being known by Him who saves us. But He also gives us the glimpses of what heaven will be like. For me, one of my favorite places on earth is my Dad’s ranch which he has named Blue Creek Ranch. I love going there. No matter what time of year it is, it is one of my favorite spots on earth. It often gives me glimpses of heaven. I know, there are songs about Texas and if you want to get a glimpse of heaven, then Texas is the place to look. I don’t mean it in that sense. What I mean is the sweetness of family, along with the beauty of a place, the memories, the specialness that only comes through time and love, we get to see a place as a glimpse of heaven. I say only a “glimpse” because heaven will be far better than any place on earth, no matter how special a place may be.

My special glimpse is Blue Creek Ranch. A lot of that has to do with the fact that my Dad is there. I really enjoy spending time with him and his lovely bride, Donna. There is always plenty of food, conversation and fun. In fact, going to visit usually leads me to renewed vows of diet and exercise after my visits.

Certainly, my Dad is the one that really makes the place special. He has worked this small piece of Texas for 22 years and it really shows. When he and his second wife bought the place back in the 1980s, it just had a small cabin, one worn out cattle shoot and a barn that had fallen down. The place needed a lot of work. Granted, he had a lot to work with given that there was plenty of vegetation and three ponds on the place. But as anyone who owns a bit of land knows, it all needs work. You cannot buy a piece of property and sit around waiting for it to improve. It doesn’t happen.

From the pastures, the fences, the drive way, the barn that he built himself, the tool shed, the well house, the new house he and Liz designed and had built, the farm house that went from being a building with two rooms to a beautiful cottage, to even the dam on one of the three ponds, my Dad has worked on all of it. It shows.

For 22 years the place has steadily improved. I find such peace with every visit. It doesn’t matter if the weather is cold and damp as it is so often at Christmas time, to the hot-scorching summers, I enjoy being on the ranch. I even lived there for a time back in college. The ranch is about 55 minutes from Texas A&M and my freshman year in college, I lived in the cottage. I must admit, it wasn’t bliss back then. The ranch is no place to live for a single, lonely, college man. Again, the place is nice on it’s own. It has the glimpse of heaven aspect because of those I love. When they are not there, it can get extremely lonely. That may be one of the reasons my Dad is selling the place. He turns 80 next week and I think there is just a bit too much work for him to do. He and Donna want something a bit more manageable. I can’t blame them.

The cottage I lived in when I was in college.

 

Given that, the Blue Creek Ranch will no longer be my glimpse of heaven. Remember, God gives us glimpses of heaven, He doesn’t give us heaven on this side of glory. True heaven will never end. It lasts for all of eternity. So the glimpses of heaven we do have, come to an end at some point in time. Otherwise, we would be like the foolish tribes of Israel that never crossed over the Jordan into the promise land, thinking that somehow, we have arrived at the promise land.

 

The view coming up the driveway.

 

Birthday Girl

Blue Creek Ranch will eventually pass into the hands of someone else. I’ve accepted that. Unless I somehow strike it rich as a televangelist, I don’t think I will be able to buy it from my father to keep it in the family. Since my siblings have the same luck I do in playing the lottery, then my Dad will sell it and the glimpse will be gone. Again, I’m OK with it. God has blessed me through my father’s labor and toil with a glimpse of heaven. And when we all get to the true heaven, Dad won’t have to work so hard to keep the place up. In fact, I think our Heavenly Father has a few angels around doing that for us. We will be able to sit on the porch, talk about the glory of God and His blessings to us, for all of eternity. Gone will be the need for repairing fences, feeding the horses and mowing the lawn. The Bliss will be eternal. But for now, we have to wait for God to give us our glimpses of heaven, so that we continue to look forward to our eternal home.

In the Fatherland

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Or, the land of our fathers. We are in Texas for a few days, looking for a house, meeting with members of the church and the presbytery and even looking at potential schools for Andy and Joey. As some of you know, I have been informally issued a call to come and be an assistant church planter with Elliott Greene in Duncanville, TX. We are really excited about the opportunity to be involved with a church plant and to work with Elliott. I have the highest respect for Elliott. He has been a friend and mentor for years, so it will be a blessing to join with him in this work.

I met with the executive director of the Southwest Church Planting Network yesterday. After talking for a while about what Elliott and I have planned, they said that it sounds like a great fit. I can help Elliott in doing things that he doesn’t have time to do. Realize that Elliott is also a professor at Redeemer Theological Seminary as well as the driving force behind Tyrannus Hall, a seminary on wheels. (You can listen to Elliott preach by going to this page.) The point is that Elliott is really busy and I can help take up some of the work in this regard. I will also help with preaching and discipleship duties. Preaching when Elliott is out of town, and discipleship at every opportunity.

Both Elisa and I are really excited about this opportunity, especially given the fact that I never thought I would get the chance to be a church planter. We both went to the church planting assessment center in Atlanta back in 2004 and they ruled that I was never, ever, ever, no, not ever to consider becoming a church planter. They said “go, be a pastor in an established church.” Ironic that God seems to have different ideas about what He wants me to do (He gets all the glory in this call and all the details as well).

We are struck with the irony and the goodness of the Lord in all this. He really has taken care of us since we stepped down from GPC Aiken back in 2009. Even in the darkest moments, He is still good, and I’ve had some truly dark moments over the past 18 months. It was at the point that I decided to get out of the ministry and find a secular job that God’s mercy came flooding into our lives once again. It’s like God was saying it is not my decision to end my call or not. It’s His decision. This is a faith issue that He was allowing me to trust even in the darkest moments. I think I scored a strong D+. Nonetheless, His goodness overshadows my weaknesses because that day, Elliott called and suggested that I come help him with the church plant.

Not only will I have a call, but we get to move back to TEXAS!!! It will be so nice to be close to family once again. Instead of having to drive for two days, or one day, we will only have to drive 3 hours in either direction to see our folks, and 45 minutes to see other members of our family. It has been truly great to be in other parts of the country, but there is nothing like coming back to the state or your origins. For us, that is Texas. (I know neither boy was born in Texas. But both are born over Texas soil. We had some dirt from my dad’s ranch in Brenham below the tables where they were born. So yes, they are Texans too!)

Even though we love Texas, we love Christ all the more. That is the center of the church that Elliott is starting. The church, Christ the King PCA, is centered upon Christ, His love for us, and our response to that love for Him. That is a great foundation for who we are in Christ, those who are redeemed for the service of the King. If we are bought with a price, then our service should be for those who understand that precious relationship with Him, and live to serve Him. Here is the church web site.

Also, here is the video for the church planting network:

Please watch the video. This is what we are becoming a part of. It truly exciting to see how God has worked through the network and men like Elliott. What is neat is that they had a plan to plant 50 churches nationally and 50 churches internationally by 2020. They exceeded that goal this past year with 103 churches, well ahead of their goal. Apparently God’s plan was more than that. Amen!

The Princess and the Cowboy

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I love the fact that Andy knows what he wants to be when he grows up. This is more than I could say when I was his age. When people asked me what I wanted to be, I would say the obligatory “policeman” or “fireman.” That is what the other boys wanted to be. I had no idea what I wanted to be.

Not Andy. He is clear about his goals. As we drove to school today we were having a conversation about moving to Texas and what it would be like.

“When I get older, I don’t want to move from you,” he said. I had to have him clarify. He has shared this fear with us in the past. He is afraid of having to leave home. At 6, I’m fine with that. He is not ready to leave home. It’s my job to get him ready. So, I told him that in all likelihood, he would probably find some beautiful young woman, marry her, and start his own family. That is when he would move out.

“No,” he said. “I’m going to marry a princess.”

Not just any young woman, but a “princess.” He continued, “I’m going to marry a princess, but I’m not going to be a king. I’m going to be a cowboy.”

This has been his constant theme since he was about 2. I’m not sure where he picked up on the idea of being a cowboy. It is not like we hang out at the local rodeo or on a ranch somewhere giving him the taste of cowboy life. We don’t watch cowboy movies and the only cowboy paraphernalia that I have is a straw Stetson and an A&M belt buckle. I don’t even  own a pair of cowboy boots.

Maybe God is just calling him to be a cowboy. We will have to wait and see. Perhaps when we move back to Texas, I can take him around some real cowboys and give him a taste of the profession. It’s a noble calling and for those who love it, a wonderful life. I am fine with the idea. After all, there is no keeping up with the Jones’ when you are out on the range handling doggys.

Now, how to handle the princess. God will really have to work for that end. I’m not sure I know any bonafide royalty, other than my wife. (She’s a descendant of the Steward family of Scotland, therefore, there is royalty in her blood. King James I is one of her great, great, grandfathers).