Random Thoughts

I guess here lately I've been thinking a lot about my dad; it's hard for me to believe that he's been gone almost 6 months. I still have a hard time referring to him in past tense and I suppose that will just take some getting used to. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him--sometimes with a tear but often with a smile.

I had the distinct pleasure of having my dad be my pastor for a number of years and it's odd what sticks with you. I guess I've heard my dad preach thousands of sermons through the years but there are parts of a few that have really stuck with me. If you knew my dad, you knew he was uber emotional. He was a big man with a big, tender heart. He was the man who, even after watching "Steel Magnolias" numerous times, cried every single time they unhooked Shelby from the machines. He bawled watching "Rudy." He cried at commercials, cried when he heard a moving song, cried when passed the graveyard and saw that they had dug his mothers grave. My dad...the big old softy. He cried every single time he preached and every single time he'd lead in prayer and to me, that means something. To me, it meant he loved deeply and cared much for his family, his friends, his flock. I just don't trust people who don't cry! That just isn't normal!

As the preachers child, we were at church every single time the doors opened. Missing just wasn't an option, so we never even asked to stay home. This may sound bizarre to some, but when that's all you've ever known, it's just the way it is. Some of my most wonderful, moving experiences have been at church and I'm glad that staying home never crossed my mind. Here's a couple of insightful things I distinctly remember my dad preaching about: once he preached about what he called "CEO's." You know--"Christmas and Easter Only" church members. We all know church members like that and it made me chuckle remembering that particular sermon. He also said once that ''we like to sow our wild oats and then pray for crop failure.'' There's a lot of truth in that statement.

Preachers kids have a hard time and this is a fact; if you think we're the wildest/meanest/worst kids ever--it's just because we hang around with the Deacon's kids!!