Just Another Blog

Yesterday, our team of pastors traveled to Oklahoma to attend the funeral of the father-in-law of one of the other pastors.  It was a long trip - about 5 hours each way - and there was plenty of time for idle chatter, story telling, and fellowship. After attending the funeral, we jumped back in the car and began the trek back home.  Things were quieter for a while as different ones reflected on those they had seen, those they had met, and what we had observed in the service. I tackled the task of driving and found myself, for extended periods of time, in complete quietness, watching the road before me and pondering what we had experienced in the service we had attended. The man's name was Frank.  I did not know him, but I know his daughter.  I did not know him, but I saw his family.  I did not know him, but I heard his words and saw his legacy and his heritage walking before me.  I did not know him, but in a way, I feel like I know him now. ...

If only the reality were as beautiful as the picture to the right.  If only it were as easy as following the path that has been laid out in front of you.  If only you could simply grab the hand of the one that walks in front of you and simply repeat each step they take, each action they display, each word they speak. But it's not. Traveling the road less travelled means that you are going to have to do many things that you not prepared to do.  It means you are going to have to go in directions that others may have chosen not to go.  Right or wrong, they chose differently than you. No, this is not a theological discussion on choosing the narrow path or the wide path.  This is not a lesson on how through discipline we can achieve greater things.  This is a reflection of a father whose heart hurts and aches when the actions of his children - whom he loves - requires doing something that is hard.  This is the reflection of a husband who has chosen...