Archive for October, 2015

Where the heart is

I crossed the river last night.   Headed south, some might say, in my behavior.

As these words are being written, I’m wearing one of the shirts shown above.  Which of the two, I shall not disclose.   Let’s just say I slept on it, and it holds a place over, and in, my heart.  Rumor has it I may not be its original owner.

 This is not my first time to cross this river.   It happened before many moons ago.   Headed north, at the time, some would say, but my allegiances bled an earthy orange tone.

“The eyes of Texas are upon you”, or so the song says.  I believe it.   For years I sang it.   The day “superman flew” I cried out in frustration at the friends who called to rub it in.

Then things began to go south.   Or did they?   We met good friends for lunch the next year, and one of them may have told me I could either root for the boys in Crimson or I could leave her house.   I think she was serious.

Then my son began acting strange, using phrases like “Boomer” and crying at the end of championship games gone awry.   It’s happened more than once.   The “Boomer” thing has, as well.  😏

It has been said by some “if you can’t beat’em, join ’em”.   I’d like to say it’s much more than just an allegiance.   It’s a heart thing, and having it move north doesn’t mean one is heading south, I hope and pray.

The shirt I slept in last night once belonged to a friend.   As I slept over Texas soil, he did as well, in a spiritual manner of speaking.   I believe the burnt orange lied close to his heart.

  As I rise this morning, in a physical manner of speaking, I will don another color.   My son will, as well. We won’t be cheering for the home team, or will we?

They say home is where the heart is, and heart and home have a way of convincing us to do seemingly odd things, like yell “Boomer”.   Go figure.

Today may not be a championship, per se, but one of us may cry just a little from under his sunglasses.   You will have to forgive him.   His heart may be covered by one, but it contains the blood of another.   

If it “crosses the river” from time to time, I hope you’ll understand…


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Back in the day

My youth minister nicknamed it “Dr Blue”.   With a stock 350 V8, and a four barrel carburetor,  it boasted 270 HP and would burn rubber in reverse.

It cost me $200, drank a quart of oil a week, and shook violently between 45 MPH and 60 MPH.   I’d like to tell you it was really smooth above 80, but I only took it up there once.   I promise.   Cross my heart, glad I didn’t die…

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Back in 2003, I sent our oldest child a message as she was moving from Elementary to Middle School.   I keep it in my calendar notes and see it every so often.   It is an interesting look into the somewhat fragile psyche of a the parent of young child who is growing up.   It felt like something that should be placed here for “family posterity’…

H, April 14, 2003

As you know, your mother and I went to your middle school parent orientation tonight. After a brief intro program by the principal and some others, I left the cafeteria to see the 6th grade hallways and then come home to you and your brother and sister.

I was alone as I walked the halls, my every step echoing loudly down the silent and empty marble corridors. I looked at bulletin boards, at empty classrooms full of desks, at the endless row of lockers, and at the courtyard where you’ll spend sunny afternoons over the next few years.

As I walked, I remembered my years of middle school, and walking my own middle school hallways. I remembered the friends, the fun, the fears, and even the fight (did you know I bloodied a kid’s nose in 8th grade and got paddled by the principal for it? My one big middle school age indescretion….). Before I could even drive, I would cruise the hallways between classes imagining I was driving in heavy traffic(the hallways were crowded, as they will likely be for you), and I was seamlessly moving my 5 speed manual shift sportscar through all of the gears. You will likely have some goofy private moments of your own at Central.

The halls were very quiet tonight. As I walked, and looked, I tried to image what you would see, what you would hear, what you would experience, and what you would feel. And I prayed. I prayed for you, for your friends – both now and to come, and for your lives. I prayed for your influence on others – that you would grow, mature, and be a light and lift to the lives of others around you. There will be many kids that need that, every day. They may need just the one kind word or look that you give them. There will be others that need it, but spurn you despite their needs. You’ll have to endure some of that, but you are a strong and confident girl, and others will benefit from knowing you despite the problems you encounter with some.

I prayed for your growth: physical, mental, and spiritual. I prayed that you would learn, grow in wisdom and discernment, and develop a loyalty and love for others even greater than you possess today. I prayed for your spirit, that you may remain sweet and untainted by the world and it’s ways. I prayed for your soul, that you will come to know Christ more fully each day and will shine His glory and love to those around you. I prayed that you would have fun.

These will be fun and challenging years, and you will grow and change in may ways. Just remember how much I love you and your mother loves you. Know deep inside how very proud we are of you, no matter what, and that we are always here for you. You can always come and talk to us, as we will seek to talk to you.

I guess this is enough from your goofy dad, for now. Be on watch, you may see these words again, just when you least expect or may need them the most.

I love you,

Your dad.

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