Pastor Dad

            When you have car problems on 75% of the home fleet…               When the furnace at church (from 1969) finally craps out…   When you open the oatmeal for a semi-healthy breakfast and realize it went out of date 10 months ago…   When you go to the pharmacy and you are picking up more prescriptions that the guy in the motorized cart with oxygen…   When the dog walks over to her bowl of dry dog food and looks at you intently as if to say, “Really? Really? That’s the best you can do?”…   When you shift gears in your automobile and the shifter comes off in your hand and that wasn’t included in previous 75%…   When you experience all 4 seasons in 3 days and don’t have to travel…   When you see the energetic toddler in the buggy at the grocery store loading up the buggy with stuff when mom has her back turned…...

            Occasionally I will pull a random book from my shelf and find where I have folded down a page and just start reading. This was one of those mornings and its so amazing how God uses everything to speak to where you are! The following is my version of what I read in, "The Eye of the Storm" by Max Lucado and some of my commentary also.             There are lightning storms. There are rainstorms. There are snowstorms. And there are doubtstorms.             Every so often a doubtstorm rolls into my life, bringing with it a flurry of questions and gale-force winds of fear. And, soon after it comes, a light shines through it.             Sometimes the storm comes after the evening news. Some nights I wonder why I watch it. Some nights it’s just too much...

             I am fortunate to come from a long line of great people. I had the greatest, coolest, best grandparents and great grandparents that have ever walked the earth. Let me tell you about two of them; cliff notes version.             My father’s father was awesome. His name was Elmer but I didn’t know that till I was older because I thought his name was “Papaw”! He was a Papaw and a farmer. He was a Papaw and a mechanic. He was a Papaw and a Papaw. Papaw was old all his life (or at least all of my life). He worked hard and loved harder. He always wore Dickies coveralls; dirty ones for work and a clean pair for a funeral or wedding. I don’t have a single bad memory of him other than when he died. He spoke his mind and was a very simple man. As an adult I wish I could talk to him. I would love nothing more than to work in the hay field with again. I miss him. Hi...