Okay, so there's a rule: what happens at B&A Ranch stays at B&A Ranch. And I'm not about to break that rule. But I do want to share something non-specific about a group of men.
The B is for Bryan, my cousin, and the A is for his wife Allison. At least that's what I've always assumed. Bryan has a ranch near Duster, Texas, which is near DeLeon, which is not too far from Stephenville. It's off the beaten path, to be sure.
Twice each year for the past probably 4 years now, many of the men and boys in the Adkison clan have gotten together at B&A Ranch, once in the spring and once in the fall. Generally speaking, we sit around a fire, we shoot guns, we eat food that men are supposed to eat. And we tell stories. Mostly I like to listen to the stories.
There are usually 3 of the men there from my dad's generation: my dad, and his twin younger brothers Harrel & Darrel. [Spare it, I'm sure they've heard every joke over the years.] These two uncles taught me at a very early age what the purpose of an uncle is: torment your nephews incessantly (Darrel, if you're reading this, that means over and over). It's still a part of their normal behavior. I took my friend Mike with me out there last year, and he accidentally threw one of his "kiddie" camp chairs in the truck instead of a larger one. My uncles got after him about his "big boy chair" that whole weekend.
They will be glad to know that I try to carry on that legacy with my own 3 nephews.
There's also usually several of my cousins. There's Bruce Lee (yep) whose dad, Robert E. Lee (yep) would have loved these weekends, but now Uncle R.E. is with the Lord. (Side note, Bruce tells a great story about trying to make a collect call from college back home). Bruce is one of those cousins that when I was a kid seemed a lot older than me, but now that I'm 45, we seem to be closer to the same age. Bruce's sons and son in law are usually there (I missed Nick this trip, who is usually in Alaska in the military). Of course there's Bryan, and sometimes his brother Micah (also in the military), and once my cousin Steven drove from New Mexico (he's border patrol). Bruce's brother Bobby also comes--he looks like G. Gordon Liddy, and he's a nurse. I'd hate to wake up in a hospital and have to see that face. (Just kidding, Bobby!)
My own two sons love going out there. They love getting pestered by these men. And since I missed this last one, I've been trying to figure out why. Why do I, so long tormented, have a broken spirit about missing the weekend? Why do my boys love to go and be harangued? (Darrel, that means bothered.) Why does my friend Mike want to go back even after all the big boy chair talk?
Yes, we have fun. Yes, we eat greasy food cooked over a fire. Yes, there's something great about shooting a gun. But there's more than that. I wish I knew the exact answer, but 2 words come to mind.
Wisdom. Every trip, we talk a little politics, we talk a little theology, we talk a lot of family. But these men, with all their experience, drip with wisdom. I think my dad may be the wisest person I've ever known. It's not about knowledge, although I'm sure there's plenty of that. But wisdom, experiential know-how. Street smart (although since they're all kinda country folk, maybe "trail-smart" is a better phrase). They have lived life. They have learned. And they share, usually (maybe mostly) when they're not trying to.
Love. For all their shenanigans (Darrel, that means doing stuff that bothers other people), there is genuine familial, brotherly love, the kind that you don't seem to see in public as much anymore. There's laughter. Sometimes tears. But there's the feeling that these men would do anything for each other.
And for me. Or my own boys.
Greater love has no man than this, that he lay his life down for his friends, Jesus said.
I have no doubt that any of my uncles, cousins, dad, brother, or any of those friends who have been to B&A Ranch, no doubt that they would sacrifice for each other. They miss each other when the weekends are over, always lingering to leave.
I miss them.
I am proud to be an Adkison. And while the Adkison Boys' Weekend might not be the place for everybody, it's a great place for me.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Watchmen needed...
This should really be two blogs. I guess I'll do Topic A1 and Topic A2.
I recently read an article that lamented the departure of James Dobson from Focus on the Family, calling him one of the last great "watchmen" of true American Christianity.
Topic A1.
Follow me as I digress. I vividly remember the first time I heard Dr. Dobson and the Focus radio broadcast. I was still in college, in my early 20s, driving home to El Paso from a Fellowship of Christian Athletes event in Dallas. I was, I think, like a lot of Christian guys then -- wanting to be holy, struggling with the temptations and sins of a single college student. It was an unholy trinity of sins: lust (because I wanted to be desired by a girl), spending too much money (often because I wanted to be desired by a girl) and drinking too much alcohol (because somehow I thought girls liked that). Maybe that's why the Book of Arnie, chapter 1, verse 2 read "The love of women is the root of all evil." (Yes, I once wrote my own book of the Bible, but that's another topic, and we've already got too many. And it also places too much blame on girls -- the downfall was mine alone.)
Dobson spoke about men being fathers, good fathers, and I was moved to tears. I desperately wanted to be a godly man, husband and father, and I want to publicly say "thank you" to Jim Dobson for teaching me many things about how to go about that. The man is no doubt a godly man, and God has used him greatly.
I do, however, think that he wasn't on his best game when he started commenting more on political issues. Not that believers shouldn't do that -- we absolutely should -- but somehow the IMHO pettiness of partisan (read "conservative" not Republican, although you might could make the case for both) politics that seemed to taint Dr. Dobson's comments and actions on certain issues turned me off. I'm simply a believer that sin abounds in the hearts of men and women, and no amount of political wrangling can change that. Again, IMHO, he often seemed to project that changing laws would make the US a more moral, godly nation, and with that I disagree.
I hope his new radio program with his son is a success, and it builds the kingdom. I pray he continues to have an influence over young men and women in how they love each other and their kids. God know we need godly families.
Topic A2
The writer of the article goes on though to lament the lack of "watchmen" in the American church. The watchmen term, for those who don't know, comes from a section of Ezekiel 33 where Zeke the prophet is called the watchmen who warns Israel of the wickedness among them. Here is a quote from the article, where the author is quoting something he's written previously:
"In order to defend true Christianity against the encroachment of error, people must be active in finding the wolves that dwell amongst the flock." (from "Another Watchman Falls Off the Wall" by Todd Stranberg, found here)
I recently read an article that lamented the departure of James Dobson from Focus on the Family, calling him one of the last great "watchmen" of true American Christianity.
Topic A1.
Follow me as I digress. I vividly remember the first time I heard Dr. Dobson and the Focus radio broadcast. I was still in college, in my early 20s, driving home to El Paso from a Fellowship of Christian Athletes event in Dallas. I was, I think, like a lot of Christian guys then -- wanting to be holy, struggling with the temptations and sins of a single college student. It was an unholy trinity of sins: lust (because I wanted to be desired by a girl), spending too much money (often because I wanted to be desired by a girl) and drinking too much alcohol (because somehow I thought girls liked that). Maybe that's why the Book of Arnie, chapter 1, verse 2 read "The love of women is the root of all evil." (Yes, I once wrote my own book of the Bible, but that's another topic, and we've already got too many. And it also places too much blame on girls -- the downfall was mine alone.)
Dobson spoke about men being fathers, good fathers, and I was moved to tears. I desperately wanted to be a godly man, husband and father, and I want to publicly say "thank you" to Jim Dobson for teaching me many things about how to go about that. The man is no doubt a godly man, and God has used him greatly.
I do, however, think that he wasn't on his best game when he started commenting more on political issues. Not that believers shouldn't do that -- we absolutely should -- but somehow the IMHO pettiness of partisan (read "conservative" not Republican, although you might could make the case for both) politics that seemed to taint Dr. Dobson's comments and actions on certain issues turned me off. I'm simply a believer that sin abounds in the hearts of men and women, and no amount of political wrangling can change that. Again, IMHO, he often seemed to project that changing laws would make the US a more moral, godly nation, and with that I disagree.
I hope his new radio program with his son is a success, and it builds the kingdom. I pray he continues to have an influence over young men and women in how they love each other and their kids. God know we need godly families.
Topic A2
The writer of the article goes on though to lament the lack of "watchmen" in the American church. The watchmen term, for those who don't know, comes from a section of Ezekiel 33 where Zeke the prophet is called the watchmen who warns Israel of the wickedness among them. Here is a quote from the article, where the author is quoting something he's written previously:
"In order to defend true Christianity against the encroachment of error, people must be active in finding the wolves that dwell amongst the flock." (from "Another Watchman Falls Off the Wall" by Todd Stranberg, found here)
There is an undeniable challenge in taking Old Testament commands, stories, laws, etc and applying them to today's world. We no longer stone disobedient children, make women stay outside for a week after their period, or avoid catfish and shrimp for dinner. We have examined and determined that certain laws are not meant for us to follow today. There are entire chapters of seminary hermeneutic textbooks dedicated to this, and we don't have the time here. But there aren't any believers today that I know of who follow all OT commands.
So I submit that we need to relook at this watchman idea -- what the author defines as being active in pointing out wolves or false prophets within the church.
First, we clearly need to be on the lookout for those who would mislead us. Jesus tells us in Matthew 7.15ff that there will be false prophets. We will be able to recognize them by their fruit, by the way their lives display a faith and trust in Jesus and his Way of life. This is not the same as adhering to correct doctrine, although that is clearly important. It is primarily about how our lives adhere to the Way of Jesus, because of our faith in Jesus (see Matthew 7.21-27). There will be people on the day of judgment who will say "Lord, we believed and practiced all these things in your name" but they will have missed out because they never knew Jesus. All of this demands that we study the life and teaching of Jesus and in faith get to know him and his Way of life.
Second, we need to be very clear on what is and is not our role to play in pointing out false prophets. Jesus tells a parable (Matthew 13.24-30) that gives us clear teaching on this. To summarize, a farmer plants wheat, an enemy comes and throws a bunch of weed seeds into the soil, and when the plants start to grow, the "fruit" of each plant is clearly either wheat or weed. The servants ask the farmer what to do about it -- should they pull up the weeds? No, pulling the weeds will damage the wheat. At the time of the harvest, the reapers will gather and separate and save the wheat but burn the weeds.
So let me make my point, because this post is growing too long. Our primary task as it relates to "weeds" or false prophets among us is to cultivate good fruit, in ourselves and in the church. It is not to cut down or pull out the weeds. That will be done at the time of harvest, but right now it damages good plants' opportunities for growth and fruit production. To put it plainly, to spend an inordinate amount of time focusing on attacking false prophets will do more harm than good. Many people on their way into the kingdom will be damaged by others' sincere attempts to destroy false prophets. Much care should be made to heed the teachings of Jesus.
The article above goes on to say "Sadly, 'apologetics' has become a dirty word." I will respectfully disagree. Apologetics means to give an reason for the hope that is within you with gentleness and respect (1 Peter 3.15). May we all be apologetics for hope in the gospel of Jesus.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
A brief ode to my granddad
Driving home today I saw one of those license plates a ham radio operator has. And even though I've seen them lots in the last 15 years, today was different. Today the memories came.
My granddaddy was a ham radio operator. I still remember his call sign: WA5YPA. As a kid, he had a "radio shack" in the backyard. It was just what it sounds like--a little shack where all the radio equipment was. Later they remodeled their house, and added a room where they didn't have to go outside to get on the radio. Grandaddy talked to people around the US. People came from all around to talk to friends in other parts of the world. I remember families coming over to talk to missionaries in South America.
My grandparents were (and still are--granddaddy's wife, my grandma, is still alive) people of incredible faith. Granddaddy was a lay leader in churches all his life. He often served as a music minister. He couldn't read music, but he would sit and chord on the piano. He wrote a song based on Psalm 40 that I can still remember and sing called "God Gave Me a Song." After spending most of his life as a Baptist, he had a filling experience with with the Holy Spirit, and spent quite a few years in a pentecostal church in the little town where they lived. When I was in college, and he was fighting cancer, we would have these deep theological discussions about God.
But it was the conversation we had 8 days before my 10th birthday that I can remember like it was yesterday. We were playing chess on the patio, and he started to talk about repentance (I must have been winning, since he changed the subject). He took one of the pawn and put it on the table, and said when we were born, we were put on earth by God. Because of our sin, we are naturally pointed away from God and toward hell. He pushed the piece across the table, talking about living and learning, but eventually, he said, if you keep living in the same direction, you end up dying and going to hell. At that point he pushed the piece off the table and fell to the floor. My nine year old psyche didn't want that to happen to me.
Then he took another piece, put it on the table, and started the same discussion. But he began to describe what repentance was, this turning your back on sin and hell and turning your face back toward God and life. It made sense to me, and we prayed right then that Jesus would rescue me, that I would follow life and God and good. There were tears and hugs, and a week later I was baptized at First Baptist Church, Skellytown, Texas, by Milton Thompson.
Today that journey continues. Today the heritage that is my family--honed by my grandfather--finds fruit in my life. And it's not just him, although he's the one I thought of today. Faith has been alive for generations. And when you add my wife's family and the generations of deep and abiding faith there, I am confident the heritage continues with my own kids.
I'm grateful for my grandaddy.
My granddaddy was a ham radio operator. I still remember his call sign: WA5YPA. As a kid, he had a "radio shack" in the backyard. It was just what it sounds like--a little shack where all the radio equipment was. Later they remodeled their house, and added a room where they didn't have to go outside to get on the radio. Grandaddy talked to people around the US. People came from all around to talk to friends in other parts of the world. I remember families coming over to talk to missionaries in South America.
My grandparents were (and still are--granddaddy's wife, my grandma, is still alive) people of incredible faith. Granddaddy was a lay leader in churches all his life. He often served as a music minister. He couldn't read music, but he would sit and chord on the piano. He wrote a song based on Psalm 40 that I can still remember and sing called "God Gave Me a Song." After spending most of his life as a Baptist, he had a filling experience with with the Holy Spirit, and spent quite a few years in a pentecostal church in the little town where they lived. When I was in college, and he was fighting cancer, we would have these deep theological discussions about God.
But it was the conversation we had 8 days before my 10th birthday that I can remember like it was yesterday. We were playing chess on the patio, and he started to talk about repentance (I must have been winning, since he changed the subject). He took one of the pawn and put it on the table, and said when we were born, we were put on earth by God. Because of our sin, we are naturally pointed away from God and toward hell. He pushed the piece across the table, talking about living and learning, but eventually, he said, if you keep living in the same direction, you end up dying and going to hell. At that point he pushed the piece off the table and fell to the floor. My nine year old psyche didn't want that to happen to me.
Then he took another piece, put it on the table, and started the same discussion. But he began to describe what repentance was, this turning your back on sin and hell and turning your face back toward God and life. It made sense to me, and we prayed right then that Jesus would rescue me, that I would follow life and God and good. There were tears and hugs, and a week later I was baptized at First Baptist Church, Skellytown, Texas, by Milton Thompson.
Today that journey continues. Today the heritage that is my family--honed by my grandfather--finds fruit in my life. And it's not just him, although he's the one I thought of today. Faith has been alive for generations. And when you add my wife's family and the generations of deep and abiding faith there, I am confident the heritage continues with my own kids.
I'm grateful for my grandaddy.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Stewarding Family
Yesterday the pastor at the church where we're attending (yes, we still are "attending"; not yet "joining"--darn that church-shopping) did a great job unpacking the parable of the dishonest manager in Luke 16. This is by far the most challenging-to-understand piece of teaching Jesus ever did. [NOTE: I've always thought the easy-to-understand teachings of Jesus were the most challenging to follow, but this one is tough to even know what he was teaching.] Here's the basic story: a steward, responsible for managing the master's business affairs, is accused of wrongdoing. The master calls him in and fires him, once he gives a report on his accounts. As Matt said, this was not a matter of pulling up an Excel spreadsheet or a Quickbooks report. This was a process that would take weeks to pull together.
The steward was your typical metrosexual. He knew he couldn't do manual labor, and he wasn't about to start begging. So he developed a plan. And that plan involved stewarding relationships. In a nutshell, he calls in several wealthy people who owe his master some money, writes down their debts, and makes them much more likely to help him when he and his family are out of a job and income.
The master hears all that, and "commended the dishonest manager for his shrewdness." Then Jesus says the challenging comment and command: "For the sons of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than the sons of light. And I tell you, make friends by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings."
As Matt shared, the point of this parable is that the steward was given a gift by his master, the gift of seeing that someday soon he would give an account for his work. Jesus says that you and I will have to give an account too, but we "sons of light" don't live like we know we will give an account. We don't steward our relationships in light of the Master's examination near the way the "sons of this world" do when their bosses ask them for an account.
We are saved by grace, but we do give an account for what we have done with what God gave us to steward in this life. If we are faithful in little things, we will be faithful in much, and God will make us faithful in much.
So this morning my daughter is a little sick, and we kept her home from school and I'm gonna take her to the doctor in a few minutes. This whole conversation of how I steward relationships hits me hard lately, especially as I steward my own family relationships. I'm in a new job, I'm traveling a ton, and my wife is working full-time in a paid job for the first time in 10 years. The stewardship of our relationships has gotten a lot harder. Or at least more complex. And if I had a "regular" job maybe it would be different, but I think it's even more challenging when your work is "ministry."
I'm planning to take some serious time over this holiday season to evaluate my family relationships, and think about how I have to one day give an account for how I steward them. Let's hope that my account is worthy of the gospel.
The steward was your typical metrosexual. He knew he couldn't do manual labor, and he wasn't about to start begging. So he developed a plan. And that plan involved stewarding relationships. In a nutshell, he calls in several wealthy people who owe his master some money, writes down their debts, and makes them much more likely to help him when he and his family are out of a job and income.
The master hears all that, and "commended the dishonest manager for his shrewdness." Then Jesus says the challenging comment and command: "For the sons of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than the sons of light. And I tell you, make friends by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings."
As Matt shared, the point of this parable is that the steward was given a gift by his master, the gift of seeing that someday soon he would give an account for his work. Jesus says that you and I will have to give an account too, but we "sons of light" don't live like we know we will give an account. We don't steward our relationships in light of the Master's examination near the way the "sons of this world" do when their bosses ask them for an account.
We are saved by grace, but we do give an account for what we have done with what God gave us to steward in this life. If we are faithful in little things, we will be faithful in much, and God will make us faithful in much.
So this morning my daughter is a little sick, and we kept her home from school and I'm gonna take her to the doctor in a few minutes. This whole conversation of how I steward relationships hits me hard lately, especially as I steward my own family relationships. I'm in a new job, I'm traveling a ton, and my wife is working full-time in a paid job for the first time in 10 years. The stewardship of our relationships has gotten a lot harder. Or at least more complex. And if I had a "regular" job maybe it would be different, but I think it's even more challenging when your work is "ministry."
I'm planning to take some serious time over this holiday season to evaluate my family relationships, and think about how I have to one day give an account for how I steward them. Let's hope that my account is worthy of the gospel.
Monday, August 04, 2008
First blog in 3 weeks--let's call it the whiner edition
Hey, greetings to the 3.5 of you out there, waiting on pins and needles for me to get off whatever island I've been on and write something. Anything. Well, hold on, here goes. As much as I hate whining, this might just fit that category.
About a month ago we decided that if we could find a house in Flower Mound we would go ahead and move, even though we haven't sold the house in San Antonio. So after 3 days of looking we found what we were looking for, well, almost what we were looking for. It's a great house in the sought after Wellington subdivision (that's what they say, I guess I have to get my snobby going), and we close this Thursday (yeah!).
We went with Pods for moving our stuff. No, we're not heading to Mars, as one friend asked. Pods parked 2 giant containers on our driveway and 5 guys came, packed up the house and loaded the pods. This is definitely the way to go. It took them 5 hours what would have taken San and I 5 days. Well worth it.
What? Oh, this doesn't sound like whining? Hang on, we'll get there.
So on Friday the 26th of July we had 2 packed pods. Only one problem. All our stuff wasn't inside. So, we rented a 10 foot UHaul to take the rest. After what turned out to be a short detour back to the UHaul place to fix a tie-down on the auto trailer (I pulled a trailer with my little SUV on it), we made it to Arlington around dinnertime.
Yes, Arlington. My in-laws had just closed on a house here that they will move into when they retire. Only one, small problem. The A/C wasn't working. We called the warranty place, they couldn't get someone out til Monday, whoops, that turned into Tuesday. Then the contractor and the warranty company started arguing over which one made us wait longer. Well, today is the NEXT Monday, 10 days later, and here I am sweating in the kitchen of that house.
We decided we couldn't sweat here all last week though, so God bless our friends in Flower Mound, they took us in. 4 adults and 6 kids. Fun, fun fun, fun fun. Actually it went pretty well, except for displaced sleeping children...while there on Friday their neighbor backed out of his driveway into our van. Same neighbor that has backed into two--count 'em--of our neighbors cars since they moved in a few years ago.
Then came the call from our realtor's assistant in San Antonio. She had gone to check on the house and the connection where our washer hooked up to water was leaking! Water on carpets and through the walls. Can I get an 'amen'!?! It all made me post on my Facebook page that I wondered if Job ever cussed. Even under his breath?
So we went to the weekend retreat on my parents' farm in Oklahoma, where I hauled hay for the first time since I was 17. That is a job every person should have in their lives. But only when they are teenagers.
This morning we left there at 4:45am to get here in Arlington in time for the A/C fixer people to do their work. They are halfway finished. I'm still all the way sweaty.
But, the good news is we're pretty much in the metroplex now. Should all go well--and really, what reason do I have to think it won't"--we will close on Thursday, fully fund Thursday afternoon and get the keys, and have our Pods delivered to our driveway on Friday. (Won't that Wellington HOA love that sight!). So make your plans now to come see us in Dallas. Just don't park in the street across from our friends' house...
About a month ago we decided that if we could find a house in Flower Mound we would go ahead and move, even though we haven't sold the house in San Antonio. So after 3 days of looking we found what we were looking for, well, almost what we were looking for. It's a great house in the sought after Wellington subdivision (that's what they say, I guess I have to get my snobby going), and we close this Thursday (yeah!).
We went with Pods for moving our stuff. No, we're not heading to Mars, as one friend asked. Pods parked 2 giant containers on our driveway and 5 guys came, packed up the house and loaded the pods. This is definitely the way to go. It took them 5 hours what would have taken San and I 5 days. Well worth it.
What? Oh, this doesn't sound like whining? Hang on, we'll get there.
So on Friday the 26th of July we had 2 packed pods. Only one problem. All our stuff wasn't inside. So, we rented a 10 foot UHaul to take the rest. After what turned out to be a short detour back to the UHaul place to fix a tie-down on the auto trailer (I pulled a trailer with my little SUV on it), we made it to Arlington around dinnertime.
Yes, Arlington. My in-laws had just closed on a house here that they will move into when they retire. Only one, small problem. The A/C wasn't working. We called the warranty place, they couldn't get someone out til Monday, whoops, that turned into Tuesday. Then the contractor and the warranty company started arguing over which one made us wait longer. Well, today is the NEXT Monday, 10 days later, and here I am sweating in the kitchen of that house.
We decided we couldn't sweat here all last week though, so God bless our friends in Flower Mound, they took us in. 4 adults and 6 kids. Fun, fun fun, fun fun. Actually it went pretty well, except for displaced sleeping children...while there on Friday their neighbor backed out of his driveway into our van. Same neighbor that has backed into two--count 'em--of our neighbors cars since they moved in a few years ago.
Then came the call from our realtor's assistant in San Antonio. She had gone to check on the house and the connection where our washer hooked up to water was leaking! Water on carpets and through the walls. Can I get an 'amen'!?! It all made me post on my Facebook page that I wondered if Job ever cussed. Even under his breath?
So we went to the weekend retreat on my parents' farm in Oklahoma, where I hauled hay for the first time since I was 17. That is a job every person should have in their lives. But only when they are teenagers.
This morning we left there at 4:45am to get here in Arlington in time for the A/C fixer people to do their work. They are halfway finished. I'm still all the way sweaty.
But, the good news is we're pretty much in the metroplex now. Should all go well--and really, what reason do I have to think it won't"--we will close on Thursday, fully fund Thursday afternoon and get the keys, and have our Pods delivered to our driveway on Friday. (Won't that Wellington HOA love that sight!). So make your plans now to come see us in Dallas. Just don't park in the street across from our friends' house...
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Moving to the Metroplex
I'm about to get a huge taste of John the Baptist, camel hair wearing, locust eating prophet style ostracism. As I said in the last post, I pretty much can't stand the Cowboys and the Mavericks.
And I'm moving to Dallas.
Recently I accepted the position of Director of Church Relations for Buckner Children and Family services, the largest Baptist social ministry in the world. I'm excited about the job--in many ways it will be strategically creating a whole new process for Buckner to relate to the more than 9,000 churches in their database. But moving always has its challenges, and this is moving to Dallas. I would love for you to pray for my family and me. I hope in the next couple of days to write a few things about my time at Baptist University of the Americas and where I believe God is taking them in the coming months and years.
I can't wait to wear my Manu Ginobili jersey to work...
And I'm moving to Dallas.
Recently I accepted the position of Director of Church Relations for Buckner Children and Family services, the largest Baptist social ministry in the world. I'm excited about the job--in many ways it will be strategically creating a whole new process for Buckner to relate to the more than 9,000 churches in their database. But moving always has its challenges, and this is moving to Dallas. I would love for you to pray for my family and me. I hope in the next couple of days to write a few things about my time at Baptist University of the Americas and where I believe God is taking them in the coming months and years.
I can't wait to wear my Manu Ginobili jersey to work...
Monday, January 07, 2008
Welcome Home!
Man! (Please read as a genderless expression...)
Am I glad to be home. The family spent 3 great weeks in Argentina over the holidays. Here's the highlights and lowlights, in no particular order:
- Argentines know how to eat, and how to drink. Every good Argentine home has a parrilla. That's a grill for cooking on, but I hesitate to compare it to anything in the states. It's huge, huger than Texas size, capable of cooking two pigs at once. Entire pigs. I was there, I saw it. And when you order parrilla in a restaurant, you get tons of meat (including things like kidneys and molleja) for a fraction of what you pay in the States for half the food. And the wine--especially my favorite, Malbec--available at every meal and every corner store. [Interestingly, there's very little incidence of drunkenness in Argentina, even though wine is consumed in many homes, even the Baptist ones. But that's another post.] Parrilla for 2-3 people was 50 pesos, about $18US. And a bottle of decent table wine in the kioskos was 5 pesos--$1.80!
- I'm not a great beach person, but it's pretty cool to spend the week between Christmas and New Year's on a beach. I've got the best winter tan ever!
- I read James Michener's "Texas" during the trip. Wow. I now know where a lot of my Texas co-dependencies come from. Great book!
- 9 hour flights are no fun in coach.
- Miami has to be the worst airport in the US.
- Truco is the greatest card game ever. Kind of a combination of spades and poker, it involves lots of bluffing, and bridge players will think that it has cheating built into the rules, as there are standard signals to alert your partners what cards you have. The only problem is the signals are the same for everyone, so your opponents can steal your signals if you're not careful.
- Berisso, the suburb of La Plata where my father in law is from and where we stayed a couple of days, is an hour south of Buenos Aires. It's about the same distance south of the equator as San Antonio is north, with about the same climate. So January there is like July here. And very few people have air conditioning. My family doesn't. So last week when the heat index was 42C (108F), it was hot!
- Alfajor chocolate is the greatest candy bar in existence. Hands down. I brought home 4 cases to prove it.
- Argentina is a great country. But there's no place like home.
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