Uncle Max

When I was young I went to visit my aunt Nelda and uncle Max at there Arizona ranch where they raised and showed Peruvian Pasos. At that time I had had very little interaction with horses having only ridden a couple of times. My two week visit there was one that will stay in my memories as the best time of my life. I had so much fun spending time with all the horses brushing them, helping to feed them and just exploring the ranch and all its beauty.

My mom had come to visit the last couple days I was there and my aunt and uncle had finally let me ride one of their horses. I was hooked from that moment on. As I rode around the big coral in front of the house they turned to my mom and said "I see she has had riding lessons!" and my mom informed them of how little riding experience I had had and my uncle told her I was a natural. From then on he and my aunt encouraged me to get into some kind of horsemanship.

A couple months later my wonderful parents purchased our first horse and from that moment on I have spent every day in the presence of a horse. If not for there encouragement I would not be in the business I am in today. I have had a wonderful career in the thoroughbred racing industry as a jockey, exercise rider and assistant trainer and I owe it all to that short visit with my wonderful family that saw my potential long before anyone else did.

In December of 2008 we lost Aunt Nelda and just this past week we lost Uncle Max. My heart was broken when I got the call from my dad. They were two of the most important people in my life and I am eternally gratefull to have known them. I will miss them more then they will ever know and I wish I had taken the time to tell them just how important they were and how they played such a pivotal role in the road my life has taken.

Posted by Amanda

Hard trip to Arizona

Had to make a hard trip to the Tucson area last week. My Uncle Max (mom's brother) was at the end. Left Wednesday 1-11-12, made it that night. He left this world on Friday 1-13.

Max was 81. He ran a successful business for years in Tucson. He and his wife Nelda were two of the kindest, funnest and most loving people you would ever meet. In the late '80's they moved east to Benson and engaged in their passion of raising Peruvian Passo horses until her death 3 years ago.

After mom died they (along with mom's sister Joann and Uncle Jim) were like the parents we didn't have anymore. We now have a hole in our hearts that won't be filled this side of heaven.

Max and Nelda gave our oldest daughter the greatest gift you can give anyone...the next post will be from her.

Nor Iron Bars a Cage

I could handle serving and teaching where I'm at, and have contentedly for quite a while now, as long as I felt I was doing what I was supposed to in the In-Between-Time. I can always tell when it's right. I get that satisfaction and sense of fulfillment, a sense that I'm making a difference and really helping people. Lately it hasn't been feeling quite right. Lately it's feeling like a job...a job you don't like...like a cage.

I feel like I'm on call 24-7. I don't get paid for my services, and I wouldn't have it any other way...but it seems like I'm just spinning my wheels. I'm expected to quit doing one of the main things I'm called to and do others that I don't really feel I should be doing. Also, in the space of 4 years through a regime change I've gone from being too young to be in the mainstream to too old. What to do? Give up? Find another place to serve? If it were only that easy. If that 'still small voice' said it was time to go somewhere else that would be great but it isn't saying that. Fact is that voice has been kind of silent on the subject lately. Guess that's why I'm banging my head against the wall here to see what shakes out.

Sometimes it stinks to have a passion that you can't always engage in during working hours...in other words you don't get paid for your passion (RUSS, you know what I'm talking about). Some people are lucky enough that their passion pays the bills: the professional writer, the pro athlete, the minister...their passion is their job. Although I have always been a confirmed computer geek and tech junky (I've talked about my life-saving career change before) computers aren't my reason for living. I have been very fortunate to be able to make a living related to my love for technology and use that to help with life purpose #1 but sometimes #1 gets pretty darn rude with #2 and #3 and demands all my attention. When that happens #1 has to learn that it can't have it all unless it wants to put me in the category of the pro writer-athlete-minister. Then #1 and #3 would be the same and #2 would be allot more understanding. (Here is an explanation of the 3 main purposes of my life

Mind you it's not the One who called me to the first purpose who causes these conflicts, it's the ones associated with #1, some who make their living at their passion but don't want to put in any 'overtime' to get something done and expect me and a host of others like me to pick up their slack. I don't really mind until the conflicts start, then my attitude gets really poor towards all of them and I feel like someone is trying to put me in a cage. I feel trapped...like I'm a prisoner. That's how I've been feeling the last 2 or 3 years. I've been a prisoner before and I won't do it again. I'll do whatever it takes to break out. If that means fleeing it all and going to the Appointed Place, so be it and hang the rest. A person can only take so much crap from any one source and when you combine 2 or 3 sources, well...

"You wired me awake
And hit me with a hand of broken nails
You tied my lead and pulled my chain
To watch my blood begin to boil

But I'm gonna break
I'm gonna break my
I'm gonna break my rusty cage and run"

Promises of Someday

How do you handle it when you can't pursue the #1 purpose in your life...when you've finally been liberated because you discovered this awesome truth just to find out you can't do anything about it?

Let me explain:
I've known for years that I'm not here just to work and make money. The main purpose for my life is to someday go to the part of the world I've been called to and share with others the hope I've found. The very-close 2nd purpose is the welfare of my family. Third is my job. So far 2 has prevented #1 from happening. As long as 2 is unable or unwilling to pursue #1 with me I have to see 2 through to the end even if it means #1 never gets done. A little backwards I know but I committed to the 2nd purpose long before feeling the call to #1...and the caller understands that. Until I am free of purpose 2, or 2 feels the call also, I will serve where I've been planted. I won't force my will on others. The job, #3, isn't a problem. I have it on good authority that as long as I do my best to be faithful to 1 & 2 that 3 will work out. It has so far splendidly and I still look forward to work every day.

In the meantime the desire to follow #1 consumes me "like a burning flame runnng through my veins"...it consumes me. Every day, day in and day out since July of 1999 the flame has gotten higher and hotter, no ebb, no flow, no wavering, no doubts...EVERY day. This has proved to me that I didn't hear the call wrong. If I had heard wrong the flame would have died by now, 7 years later. This kind of flame burns forever.

So every day I do my bit here for King and family...and burn...

To My Children's Children's Children

I want to thank everyone for bearing with me while I started into this and for your comments and support. I especially thank Russ, Jeremy and Alison. You were the example I looked to for how to start. I wanted to try to get the broadest sketch down so my children can have a record of what's happened in our family...at least from my point of view (I realize this is a one sided tale, but, that's the only side I know). Hopefully they will understand a little bit of what made me the way I am...good and bad. I have encouraged my beautiful wife to make a chronicle of her family...she has a much more heroic and touching tale than I do...maybe some day soon she will. (She's allot better looking than me too...hence pics of her, none of me)

I will continue to post on the things that I love: pro cycling, youth ministry, anything tech or cutting edge science, more family tales from time to time, loathing of the cowboys...

The time has come, my little friends, to talk of other things

Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings

And why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wigs

Calloo, Callay, come run away

With the cabbages and kings.

Hang on...it's going to be a fun ride!

A Gentle Rain

Even with the struggles, trials, and tribulations of the 'Selling Time' there was an aura of peace over everything. I knew this was the right path. After a year and a half of trying, on May 27th 1997, we finally sold the last location and I was, suddenly, free. I didn't know what to do with myself. For the first time in my adult life I didn't have to worry about robberies or employees or cash shortages.

I was able to take about 3 months off. It was summer...I spent the days mowing the lawn and floating in the pool. I helped with a High School mission trip and church camp. I still wasn't quite sure what I was supposed to do with the rest of my life but that was about to change.

I followed a friend's advice and applied for a tech support job. To my surprise I got it. I got a job doing MSN Technical Support. I went to work for 40 hours a week, I did my job, I left 'them' alone and 'they' left me alone. It was a blast...they were paying me to play with computers and to help other people with their computers. At 39 I was one of the older people working the phones. So many of my friends around me thought it was a super high stress environment. Sorry, they didn't know what high stress was. This was heaven. This was a time of healing and cleansing for me. For the first time in my life I looked forward to each new day. I learned how wonderful it was to want to go to work each day. There weren't any swords hanging over my head. Was this really happening? Had they made a mistake? I was afraid they would wake up and tell me I wasn't suppose to be there...that I was enjoying it too much.

I realized what a precious gift this all was. I promised God that I was there until He told me it was time to move. He's moved me 3 times since then but each time there's been a job waiting that was better and more enjoyable than the one before, especially the one I have now...this job has re-united me with my beautiful wife and we are again working together.

I realized after a while that what I did for a living...the thing that kept the roof over our heads...didn't matter nearly as much as just being open to God's voice and being ready and willing to use the gifts He's given whenever the chance comes up.

Even though there are ups and downs from time to time I can honestly say that my worst days now are better than my best days used to be. What a blessing.

What Rough Beast

Just as we started to break through the fog and see beauty in life again we lost another one. My wife commented that we had as many loved ones on the other side waiting for us now as what we had here with us...as usual, she was right.

Shortly after Mom died I did something I should have done years earlier while Mom was here to see it...I quit a 3-pack a day habit. After 3 months I felt like I had won the battle. I don't think I was too bad...just don't ask my wife...she will lie about me. If you ever need encouragement kicking "death sticks" contact me and I will be glad to help.

During the first year or so business went remarkably smooth. We didn't suffer any unexpected expenses or wild swings in the gas market. We decided not to do anything drastic for at least a year. During the time Mom fought her cancer the state voted in the lottery. We signed up for it not really knowing what it meant...just knowing we had gotten tons of mail from the state saying we had better join in or we would be left out. It started just before she died. I remember the first day of lottery sales...we were only selling scratch off tickets then. I watched a women come in with $125 cash from her paycheck. She bought $20 worth of tickets and won $30. Instead of taking the money and going she spent it on $30 more. She lost it all. She kept buying, winning occasionally, but never taking the winnings and leaving. We tried to tell her to take it easy and stop but she became angry and told us to leave her alone. Eventually she lost her entire paycheck and commented that she had to pick up the kids at the day care and now didn't have the money to.

I didn't sell booze (we were in a 'dry' town...a town that doesn't sell alcohol) but I was doing something just as bad...I was participating in the state's "stupid tax"...taxing the ones who could least afford it. As time went by I watched others ruin theirs an their family's lives because of gambling addictions rooted in the lottery. This addiction was as bad as the one that killed Brother.

After Mom's died I met the new pastor at our church, Randy Rudisell. I was wanting to start back I told him the problems I had before with people's hipocracy. He said, "just give it one more try with no expectations. I guarantee you God won't disappoint". I did. I went back and ingored the people and found God there waiting. I will always be grateful to Dr. Randy for helping me break through the barrier that Christians can erect that keeps people out of fellowship with God.

Eventually I started teaching Jr. High guys in Sunday school. One Sunday we were talking about keeping yourself from getting into the bad crap of this world...like drinking and gambling. One of the guys, Casey (God bless him) asked "if gambling is wrong why do you sell lottery tickets at your stores?" I will love him forever for speaking his heart. I thought, "Well, he's right. Why am I part of the state's gambling racquet?"

Over the next few weeks I thought & prayed. I decided that I didn't want to be part of the problem any more. We quit selling lottery tickets. It became rapidly apparent that we couldn't do that and stay in business I told my wife "if I have to sell lottery tickets to stay in business I'm going to find another business to be in"

WHAT WAS I SAYING?!?! For 37 years I had towed the party line. What would I do? What could I do? I couldn't make a living outside the Family Business...Mom had assured me of that. The only thing I was good at other than business was computers and you couldn't make a living in computers unless you were a programer, right?

After fighting family, friends and demons I made the choice to get out of the Family Business...I took a GIANT leap of faith off a GIANT cliff against EVERYONE'S better advice. The day...the very instant I made that decision it was like a blanket of protection wrapped itself around me. I didn't know what laid ahead but I knew it would be ok and that I wasn't alone.

Down To A Sunless Sea

When my brother died the world stopped. He was the oldest. He was the smartest. This wasn't supposed to happen for at least 40 years or so. Mom was supposed to go first (her words, not mine). We were lost...I was lost. I tried to do the days...work the stuff. So did Mom and Beauty. Once Mom said 'we should probably just give up since he's gone and get out of it'. For some reason I said 'I don't care if hell freezes over I'm not going to give the devil the satisfaction.' He had gotten brother...had taken his life through the alcohol but not his spirit...that was comfortably at home...he wasn't going to get The Business. At this point in time we were REALLY struggling to make ends meet.

But, like a few years earlier with Dad, I was lucky. I didn't blame God for any of this. I realized it wasn't God that pushed my brother to grow all we could, to get obligated to the hilt, to get all the "stuff" he could (and when that wasn't enough to abandon him...you can figure out who I'm talking about). I realized it wasn't God that put the booze in his hand. That choice was his...but, maybe not all the other choices were his. I know who I point the finger at and it wasn't at God.

During this time I did deal with some anger 'issues' of my own: how DARE he do this. How DARE he leave me here alone. HE was supposed to be here to help me run the Family Business. HE was supposed to be here to help me handle Mom (who, after 10 years, was still grieving after Dad...who was still supposed to be here too by-the-way). Brother possessed the gift of foresight and the financial skills to grow the business while I was able to realte to and work with people (one of his extreme weaknesses). I couldn't help it. I was mad at him. He had shuffled up the normal order of things. Beauty realized this too. So did Mom. It wasn't the best of times in so many ways for any of us.

But, in other ways we learned so much. Just like when Dad died we learned we could get by in extreme circumstances. We realized that no one was irreplaceable. I realized that there's nothing wrong with stopping work at 5:45 because the sun is setting and everyone needs to get out and watch it set. I learned that there are other things to do on Sunday afternoons besides watch some idiots ruin the Dallas Cowboys. I learned that I had a family that loved me and I loved and that they meant more to me than I realized. (back to that old 'who we love and who loves us' thing).

So during this tough time we all did allot of growing and learning. Eventually we hit the bottom, spiritually and realistically. We realized spiritually that it was all between each of us individually and God...it wasn't a group project. Realistically we realized that money...the business...wasn't everything. It had taken enough time and cost our dearest blood but we realized it.

About this time Mom realized something was wrong with her. Within 2 1/2 years of Brother's death she had sugury to remove a cancerous kidney and died shortly after.

The hits just kept on coming.

No Way Down

Even though I had it made (I had the best wife and partner any man could ask for) I didn't realize it. Instead of running away with Beauty I stayed and fought battles. Life was chaotic and uncertain. We had 3 children of our own before our 4th anniversary. The middle one, a son, we lost at birth. All this while we both worked 6-7 day weeks, countless hours, and raised the 2 older ones.

We did the church-on-Sunday-thing. Wasn't that what you were supposed to do? I was raised in the First Baptist Church from the time I was born so I was used to doing church. During this time of work I was able to go about 1 out of 3 Sundays when I wasn't working. Eventually the pressure piled up, though. We hadn't taken time to grieve for the child we lost until about a year later. When it finally caught up it wouldn't be ignored. We had a spiritual breakthrough then and moved on to a new level of how things work.

Eventually I got tired of being looked down on at church because I wasn't coming every Sunday so I said to heck with it. I wasn't there to please people. I wasn't sure at that point what the use of going was. Thanks to your average-every-day-Baptist and to my hard-headedness we quit going. I wasn't going to waste my time at church with a bunch of hypocrites and bigots. Those types of people weren't supposed to be at church anyway, were they?

About this time I thought that if we quit the Family Business and went away...WAY away...like Vermont or Colorado or Arizona...that would change everything. Life would be a dream. But every time we made plans to move something would happen that sucked us back in.

While the business grew steadily during these years every gain meant a heavier toll extracted in pressure and obligations. I had always enjoyed a brew now and then but during these years I found myself enjoying it a little more than usual...too much maybe. During this time I didn't realize that Brother had fallen hard into alcohol addiction. It happened for him at college, actually. Brother wasn't one of those that drank a couple or three a day. He could go days without but would spend the weekend making up for it. Eventually it got to the point that when he started he couldn't stop until he passed out...even if that was several days down the road. Once he woke up, he'd start again. This pattern would go on for weeks or months until some sort of 'intervention' (to use the clinical word) would happen. Then lives would be evaluated and promises would be made until the next time. Then the whole cycle would start over again. This went on for about 5 years. By this time his wife decided to end it.

Who knows why he chose this path. Was it pressure for success? From Mom? From the Family Business? Maybe. He made his choices. Eventually it cost him his marriage. It cost him his children (he couldn't go a custody weekend with his boys without going off the wagon). Alcohol crept into every corner of our lives. Anyone who says substance problems only affect the one person has never been through it. This almost killed Mom, it almost killed my marriage, and one September night at the age of 37 it killed my brother.

Once Upon A Time In The State Of New Jersey...

...there was a little girl. A Beauty. She lived with her mother, father, and brother. They were happy and lived a simple life just like millions of others. One day when she was 8 her mother died suddenly. Her father tried the best he could but it proved too much for him and 6 months later he was gone too.

Beauty and her brother went to live with different aunts and uncles and were passed around on a regular basis. They didn't get to see each other as much as they should have been allowed to but that's the best that could be done in those days. Even though she always had a roof over her head she felt like she was a burden to whoever she was staying with. She learned early to chase that feeling away by working hard. Whether it was cooking, cleaning, or laundry she pulled her weight and then some. She learned at 10 what most of the rest of the world doesn't learn until 20 and she could do the household chores, a day's schooling, and a part time shift & be ready to start again the next morning.

During her early teen years she developed several athletic talents. She could beat most grown men at golf and pool thanks to the summers she spent with an aunt and uncle who ran a golf course. She kept the grounds then played golf and shot pool in the clubhouse between mowing the greens. About this time her gym teacher told her she would either go out for basketball or she would flunk gym (gotta' love our educational sytem!) She said "go ahead" and promptly left school at 15 and started working full time. By now she was living with a married cousin. She learned how to fight off the unwanted advances of the husband and spent as little time there as possible. She bought a car with the money she earned and learned to fix it herself when it needed a new starter or a tune-up.

At 17 she met someone who made her believe that he wanted to build a life with her. A day or so after their wedding she saw him fly his true colors. He talked to her worse than a plow animal. She asked "why are you treating me this way? I thought you loved me." he said "your mine now. I can be myself . I don't have to act anymore" as he gave her a back hand across the nose. This began 7 years of hell.

She took it because she figured that's probably the way it was supposed to be. Didn't all husbands hit their wives daily? Didn't all wives have to deal with broken noses, black eyes, and fractured skulls? Didn't she deserve this? One day about 3 years later he hit her and knocked her into one of their sons causing him to stumble against a wall and hit his head. A tiny ember erupted into a volcano and she grabbed the husband by his head and introduced it to the same wall several times and told him "if you ever hurt one of my babies again I will get one of the knives from the kitchen and [make you a gelding]"

He responded like most men of that type and didn't lay a hand on her afterwards, although he ratcheted up the verbal abuse to take up the slack telling her how worthless she was. Never mind the fact that she supported them because he never could seem to get along with anyone long enough to last more than a month at a job. Then it would take him another 3 months to get another job. After another year he decided he was moving to Texas...the land of opportunity where he could make his fortune. She had never been more than 100 miles from home her entire life. What was he thinking? "If you don't want to come stay here. I'm going anyway" he said.

"If we go, that's it. The last go around. Last chance. You have GOT to learn to keep a job and help support the family. I can't support all of us any more" she said. They made the move and for about a year things were ok. No more fists but the verbal abuse was still there. Meanwhile she fell in love with this strange new place called Texas. She was amazed that there weren't cacti and hitching posts on every corner...there were trees...and grass! No desert in site! After 18 months the husband decided he didn't like it in "the armpit of the nation" so he announced he was "going back to New Jersey".

She said she wasn't going back and reminded him this was the last try and he hadn't held down a job more than 6 months total since they came. He didn't care. He was going home. If she didn't like it, tough. She could stay in Texas. She said "If you go that's it. It's over. You give up all claims to me or either of the boys." He left taking the car and leaving her and his sons in an apartment with rent paid through the end of the month...with money she earned working for the Family Business.

He came back about 1 1/2 years later and found, to his shock, she had managed to survive without him and prosper. She had moved on with life. When he tried to re-insert himself into her life he was informed by someone who cared deeply for Beauty that his services were no longer required nor wanted and he should leave...under his own power or under power assist, the choice was his. He called Beauty to inform her that he was reporting the threat from the friend to the police. She told him it was 'gelding time' and he'd better report 2 threats while he was at it. Nothing more was heard from him for a long, long time to come.

That day Beauty was set free. She was a new person with a re-born spirit who would never be under the control of someone like that again. Life would have it's share of ups and downs but mainly she had set her course on an upward path that day. I'm just thankful she let me come along for the ride.

To follow up: the husband eventually realized the poison he was spreading and changed his life.

Beauty and the Beast

Meeting my wife was a ‘one in a million’ thing. If either one of us had been where we thought we should or would be or where we wanted to be at that point in life we would have never met.

She came to work at the Family Business just like anyone else looking for a job. The first time we met I poked my head in the door to say something to Brother, whom I was a little put out with at the time, therefore I wasn't my usual polite self. She was NOT impressed. We worked together one night shortly after and I was immediately attracted. "From the moment I saw her, she captured my heart with her beauty, her warmth, and her courage. I knew then, as I know now, she would change my life...forever."

There was just one thing: She had a husband and 2 children.

I thought ‘why is it that all the nice girls are already taken?' I knew the answer. What I didn’t know was their marriage was already severely strained and very shortly after we met he abandoned them and moved back to New Jersey. Over the next year or so we went from very good friends to very much in love. We got married and started our life together.

Mom wasn’t too thrilled because Beauty didn’t match the image of the Southern Baptist Baylor Girl that she had planned for me to marry. I had spent the better part of 3 years at school and seen first hand what ‘those’ girls were like **violent shudder**. I had also seen an example like that in Brother’s wife and I knew I didn’t want any parts of that. Aside from already having been married and having 2 children Mom wasn’t thrilled that Beauty was 3 ½ years older than me.

Bottom line, it was my life. I was going to have to live with my decision. I wasn’t going to live with Mom and although I loved her I didn’t really care if all she could look at was ‘outward appearances’ and all that worldly crap. I knew I had found a spiritual relationship with someone that I would never be able to find with anyone else and I didn’t really care what anyone thought.

My wife doesn’t like it when I call her Beauty or make a fuss over her but I have to say it. Now, years later, I mean it more than ever, I have never met a more beautiful soul than hers.

The Rest is Silence

Dad had a heart attack on January 2nd and died from another on January 12th, a month and a half after his 53rd birthday & just before #2 Grandson's 2nd birthday. No one really saw the bomb ticking: stress, long hours, 3-4 packs a day, the poor diet (Dad never was overweight but had extremely high blood pressure).

The rest of that winter was cold and grey...one of the coldest winters ever (not according to the weather service but that's the way I remember it). The sun didn't shine much until about June. I worked 80-100 hour weeks for the next year...week after week...month after month, no hope, not knowing what the future held, not really caring. Mom took over the Business along with Brother. While they fumbled around in the dark trying to get a handle on everything I abandoned all thought of returning to school and worked.

And worked. And worked. I couldn't help them much with running The Business because I was "ignorant...didn't know any better...what does a 21-year-old child know"? So, I worked...and learned. I learned: that you CAN work 197 days in a row without a day off and still be standing; that the human body CAN survive on convenience store food and stale hot dogs & nachos; what it meant to crawl your way through the days and to just survive. I had already learned that hard work can kill you, now I learned how it can bury you alive.

I didn't learn how to fight. I already knew how anyway. Don't we all learn that growing up and being teenagers? Besides, what was I going to fight? Life, circumstances, the Devil, God? It wasn't God that made Dad work like he did, or smoke like he did, or not take care of himself. Those were his choices. He told me so himself that day a lifetime before in December. He once told me why he wouldn't quit smoking: "Look, I don't drink and I don't chase women. I think those are the 2 big ones so leave me alone."

One big misconception, though was the whole "boss' son" thing. I'd hear "Oh, you've got it made" "You get to do whatever you want" "You just tell everyone else what to do" "I'll bet you get all your stuff free". Right. In our world being one of the family meant you worked harder than anyone else to set the example. You were first in and last out. You didn't get paid until everyone else did. You never took something without paying for it. You never lost your temper with anyone. You were servant to your employees and to your customers. And, I wouldn't have had that part any other way. That was Dad's way of doing business.

I also didn't learn how to be angry (already knew that, too). I was lucky. I have seen many people in similar situations get extremely angry and bitter...like Lt. Dan in Forest Gump. They sink into a "dungeon of black despair" -- of bitterness & rage and become lost. I was spared that...that time. I didn't hate God or life or anything or anybody. I knew that how I reacted was my choice...I could choose what to do with my life, I didn't have to stay and work in The Business (no matter what kind of guilt trip was laid down), I chose that path because I cared about Mom and Brother and wanted to do my part...whatever they decided that was. Even though I wasn't bitter I was lost for some time and didn't realize what was going on around me. I have a hard time even now remembering allot of the details of those long days. Guess my mind has blocked some of it out.

Then, something wonderful happened around the first of June...I met my future wife.

"Down once more..."

Sometimes you just don't fit in. Your round peg doesn't fit into their square hole. You just can't help the circumstance you were born into. A shame, really, because everyone has a beautiful story...if we'll give them a chance, be still, and listen. I guess what I really meant in my 3-31 post was thanks, guys, for sharing your stories. I'm glad I slowed down long enough to get to know you a little. So much has happened recently that I had been searching for some way to make sense of it all...

It started long ago. I had a normal childhood except I was blessed with parents that were very, very, good (almost perfect): noble, self sacrificing, hard working (had the Family Grocery Business), they were children of the Great Depression who wanted only the best for me and my brother. But mostly for Brother, I suppose, since he was a Junior and 6-years the elder (the way Mom looked at it, anyway. I don't really think Dad cared much about that stuff). I suspect Mom didn't mind when a little of Brother's glory shined her way. I never minded much...he was a pretty awesome guy and I was the text-book little brother...just like the Beaver. I was told over and over again that I even looked just like the Beav. That's how it all went, anyway. My brother was the smart one: graduated from Baylor with the accounting degree; married the appropriate sorta-pretty-college girl-grabbing-for-the-brass-ring. They had the mandated first-child-as-a-son and followed it up with second-son (which college-girl thought secured her a place in immortality...but who can guaranty immortality except God? Don't EVER misplace your trust).

All went according to script...we lived a hearty robust life, worked hard, Brother and I found Jesus at age 9 respectively like you’re supposed to, and all was well. Dad worked long, hard hours and slowly grew the Business and acquired a reputation for fairness and honesty. Mom did PTA & church, made sure we were all fed and where we were supposed to be and eventually worked long and hard helping Dad with the books.

Brother tried football but knee injuries forced his 8th grade retirement and he became a very accomplished golfer (won the North Texas Youth tournament his Junior year in High School beating, among others, Ben Crenshaw), worked after school in the Family Business then went to college where he met and married his wife. After a year of grad-school he came home and joined the Family Business full time.

I played football from 2nd through 14th grade and did band from 7th-9th (had a thing for the Tympani...still a sucker for the Symphony). I had more money than most of my friends. Not because we were rich (we weren't) but because I worked...in the Family Business...all the time...and never had any time to go spend what I made. Great for a nest egg but it sucks for your social life. It ultimately cost me a 4-year relationship with a wonderful girl and forced me to make allot of hard decisions…some I’m still not real proud of. All that was ok, I supposed. Brother came back and started in the Family Business putting his accounting knowledge to work and pushing to grow. I took his place at college. Never could quite measure up to what he accomplished, though...not in Mom's eyes.

I was home for Christmas break my junior year. It was Friday 12-23 and Dad had to make 3-hour round trip to a business associates house. The Cowboys and Vikings were playing for the NFC Championship on Christmas Eve (this was before the cowboys dishonored themselves and their fans) and Dad's friend was giving him some complimentary game tickets. A 3-hour road trip may not seem like a big deal until you understand that Dad never went anywhere...NEVER. I couldn't even drag him away long enough to get a line wet. He couldn't bear the thought of being out of touch with The Business for that long (no cell phones in those days).

When he asked me to go along I jumped at the chance to have some private time with him away from The Business and Family. It was very educational. I found out that, despite what I had been told, he wasn't ashamed of me...in fact he thought I was pretty ok and admired my tendency for doing what I thought was right and not listening to other people...except when I didn't listen to him. I found out that not only did he NOT go ballistic like Mom did (and she predicted that he would), he was actually excited when I told him I didn't feel like my place was in the Family Business after college. He said I'd better NOT follow him unless I could figure a way to do it without it costing my whole life and time away from my future family...this shocked me because I never dreamed Dad had any regrets about The Business. I found out, too, that he wasn't really all that thrilled about Brother coming into The Business...that meant he had to keep pushing and expanding...trying to be successful. He wished Brother had had the guts and courage to follow his chosen career of accounting and, not to sound too indelicate, leave Dad alone to enjoy a little bit of what he had built. He was 53 and, while not ready to retire, he sure didn't want to sink more time, energy, and money into a business that had extracted a heavy toll from him of 70-75 hours a week for almost 20 years and was finally starting to provide a reasonably comfortable living. Dad ended up telling me that I had damn well (his words) better promise him to finish school and follow that secret dream career I had just confided to him. This was the first time Dad and I talked to each other as men and not just father and son.

Three weeks later he was dead.

"Sometimes we must leave our safe places...

...and walk empty-handed amongst our enemies"

I've had allot of people ask me "where in the world did you come up with Beast1624" or from some of my christian friends "I have a real hard time typing in that address. It just seems wrong." Well, really it just represents where I started and where I am now. Let me explain...

There was a time when I wondered: is it worth it? I knew there was a God. I've been lucky. I've never doubted. I'd seen too many things over the years to ever question 'Does God exist?' But I had begun to envy the comfort and wealth of those who I knew didn't care about God. They didn't have to struggle to make a living. Everything they touched turned to gold. They treated their employees with contempt and ruled over them with an iron fist yet their businesses prospered...they didn't have trouble finding good help. They were healthy and fit no matter how much they partied or indulged. They didn't struggle with their appearance or their finances like the rest of us did. It all just came naturally...just fell into their laps. They held up to ridicule and mockery all the things that I was taught you were supposed to do...all the things that were right.

It seemed like everything I had done, all I believed was in vain. What good was it? Had I been stupid to play by the rules? Even though I tried to do what was right, even though I treated people beyond fair, still I struggled to keep my head above water. Our business was a constant struggle: solve 1 crises and have 4 more even worse come up. People either didn't believe my intentions or took advantage of them saying "if he's stupid enough to play fair let's steal him blind". Get slapped with litigation at every turn but when we had a beef with someone it gets ignored. What good had it done Mom and Dad? Dad died WAAAAY too young...Mom died pretty darn young too. I began to resent the very foundation I had built my whole life on...what Mom and Dad had built theirs on and taught me was the way to do things.

Then, when the world looked like it was caving in on me, when it seemed like I was going to be crushed, a small voice said "Just give me 1 more try. Come with no expectations and ignore the 'holy' ones". I did. I spent some loooong days thinking, searching, reading. I realized that I had been a dumb ox...a 'brute beast'.

I began to realize that the real important things don't have anything to do with money, business, success, possessions or prestige. When life was over it would boil down to 2 things: who we loved and who loved us. I had been set free ("free at last, free at last, thank God almighty I'm free at last!"). I realized I had been in prison since I was a child (it was a 'born into the family business' thing) and that to follow the narrow path I had to deny the things that I thought meant something. I had to focus on the '2 things' that require me to 'deny myself' & suck it up and bear the burden. Like the title says: "Sometimes we must leave our safe places and walk empty-handed amongst our enemies"

Oh, and 1 more thing I learned...a 3rd thing I guess: all this stuff...it only applies to me. Not you. I don't have the right to try to force what I think or believe on you. All I have the right to do is tell you what's happened to me. I can't judge you and I SURE won't condemn you for what you think and believe...that's the fun you get to have: finding YOUR path...back to that 'who loves us' thing again!

For the Beast reference check this out.
Check here for the '1624' reference.

The Purpose

Been messing around with this for a couple of months now. Been adjusting the colors, etc., learning a few little tricks here and there. I will be getting down to business in the near future and start with the true purpose of this stream. In the mean time I want to thank Sam, Allison, Russ, Jeremy, David, and Savage for your examples - for letting me comment - and helping me realize that this is the outlet I've been looking for.

Dead Man Walking

It's important to start this off by telling you how I feel:

"Christ's life showed me how, and enabled me to do it. I identified myself completely with him. Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. My ego is no longer central. It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not "mine," but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. "

Galations 2:20 from The Message