Hello friends and family! I hope this blog post finds you all doing well in your preperations for Christmas. We're having some extemely cold weather for early December and just a dusting of snow. Barb has done most of our Christmas shopping online again this year, and I have no complaints about that! I'm getting things ready for our very first Father/Son deer hunt this weekend with DJ. We're headed down to our 450 acre farm south of Louisville, Ky. with my friend, Brad Noe. I'm also excited to be part of a project with Brad and his son Brandon. They are putting together a new cookbook that will be titled, "The Ultimate Deer Camp Cookbook". Brad authored a Southern and Outdoor cookbook about 15 years ago, it did very well. Brandon is a freshman at the University of Illinois and he will be doing all the marketing for the cookbook. With the internet connections that we have now, compared to 15 years ago, this should be an interesting venture. Brad has asked me to write the intro and include some of my recipes as well. I'm sharing this with you because many of you enjoy my writing. I'm including in this blog my "rough draft" of the cookbook intro and would appreciate any thoughts or critism you might share. You're not going to hurt my feelings if you don't like it.
Below is my rough draft and you can leave your thoughts on A View From My Stand Blog or on my Facebook wall. Or you can email those to me at TimDodge@rocketmail.com. Thanks for your input and that's A View from My Stand!
The Ultimate Deer Camp Cookbook
Introduction:
When I received the phone call from my good friend that he was doing a deer camp cookbook, there was no doubt I wanted to be included. I’m honored that he asked me to write the introduction to his cookbook and include a few of my favorite recipes from camps gone by.
There’s a word that I like to use when describing something that is significantly more than avid, it is passionate. I’ve been an outdoorsman for more than 30 years. My friend, Brad Noe, has been a passionate outdoorsman/cook for even longer. His love for the outdoors, especially deer camp, is contagious, much like his laughter. When you begin reading through these pages of recipes and viewing the photos that accompany them, you will find yourself smack dab in the middle of a Noe deer camp. Your olfactory senses will kick into overdrive as your mind pictures a Dutch oven simmering with goodness or a charcoal grill covered in deer tenderloins wrapped in bacon; the essence of a campfire permeating your soul.
I’ve had the privilege of sharing a number of deer camp experiences with Brad and some of our friends. We always have lots of fun, lots of fellowship and lots of food. Whether its breads, veggies, soups/stews, casseroles, main dishes or even a few desserts, these recipes will be ones you’ll want to use over and over and then pass on to your friends. We are convinced that food brings people together, but great food always brings them back! Enjoy these recipes as we have; gathered around the campfire or stove surrounded by people that bring you pleasure when you are in their company. Happy Hunting and Incredible Cooking,
Tim Dodge
“Big Dog”
Monday, December 6, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Thanksgiving
Today many of us will be gathering around a table with family and friends to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday. At our home, I’m going to be preparing a small feast for an intimate holiday gathering with my immediate family; my wife, Barb, our teenager, Abby, Mariah, who will be 12 in a couple months, and DJ, who will celebrate his 10th birthday on Sunday. So, we will have an extended weekend of celebrating. Barb is recovering from a knee replacement surgery so she gets to “commandeer” from her recliner. It was nice to sit around the table and each of us take a few moments to share a few things for which we are thankful. The turkey breast, honey ham, noodles, stuffing, corn, gravy, potatoes, cranberry jello and dinner rolls all turned out great. We all had our fill and the girls cleaned up after the meal; saving room for some dessert after our traditional Thanksgiving movie. {Christmas Vacation}
Its days like today that I enjoy being with my family, but I can’t help but think about all our extended family and friends as well. Being from a family of 10 kids, I’m used to being surrounded by lots of noise, lots of laughter, and what sometimes seems to be “mass chaos”. I have to say, sometimes it’s nice to have the more quiet event, but if I were going to be honest, I always miss being around family and friends. We seem to always have a swell time, regardless of the circumstances. Like many families, ours is not absent from adversity. My thoughts also go out today too many of our good friends. We’ve been blessed to have some of the best friends in the world. Some are close by and some not so close, but the great thing is that miles can not keep them out of our hearts and minds. The Johnson’s down in Florida are enjoying their first Thanksgiving there. The Noe’s are all gathered down at “The Camp” celebrating. Brad & Julie are sharing the day with their family and are also in our thoughts. The Paxton family is gathered at brother Ted and Jeans home and enjoying a great feast. The Shaw’s, the Eiland’s, the Ballard’s, the McCune’s, the Moore’s and so many more have touched our lives and made the journey all the better. Here’s wishing you all a safe, happy and joy filled Thanksgiving and a blessed December. That’s the view from my stand!
Its days like today that I enjoy being with my family, but I can’t help but think about all our extended family and friends as well. Being from a family of 10 kids, I’m used to being surrounded by lots of noise, lots of laughter, and what sometimes seems to be “mass chaos”. I have to say, sometimes it’s nice to have the more quiet event, but if I were going to be honest, I always miss being around family and friends. We seem to always have a swell time, regardless of the circumstances. Like many families, ours is not absent from adversity. My thoughts also go out today too many of our good friends. We’ve been blessed to have some of the best friends in the world. Some are close by and some not so close, but the great thing is that miles can not keep them out of our hearts and minds. The Johnson’s down in Florida are enjoying their first Thanksgiving there. The Noe’s are all gathered down at “The Camp” celebrating. Brad & Julie are sharing the day with their family and are also in our thoughts. The Paxton family is gathered at brother Ted and Jeans home and enjoying a great feast. The Shaw’s, the Eiland’s, the Ballard’s, the McCune’s, the Moore’s and so many more have touched our lives and made the journey all the better. Here’s wishing you all a safe, happy and joy filled Thanksgiving and a blessed December. That’s the view from my stand!
Friday, November 19, 2010
The Dream
It’s been a while since I’ve posted to “The View from My Stand” and again, my apologies. Life has certainly been pretty crazy this fall. Hunting season seemed to sneak up on us and 2010 has blown by like an evening breeze on the lake. I’ve had some things on my mind of late that I’ve been trying to put into words and I’m going to attempt to do so in this posting. Many of these thoughts are being shared for the very first time. Tomorrow will mark two years since we received that phone call from my brother Jim; the phone call to tell me that our brother Mike had unexpectedly died. A phone call that peeled my heart back like the winter stripping of the deciduous trees, and a section cut out in the way a seasoned butcher butterfly cuts tenderloin. I didn’t want to believe it, in fact, in my mind I quickly began bargaining with God to make it not true. Obviously, to no avail. For several months after that day, I had a difficult time caring about a lot of things, mainly myself. I gained more weight than I’ve ever carried; I was less motivated to do much of anything then ever before; I wasn’t treating my wife and kids the way I should; I was extremely pissed at God. It seemed that a blanket of gray covered my life, bound and secured like a backwoodsman’s mummy sleeping bag. I found myself regretting and wishing so many different things.
1. I regret not calling Mike in the two weeks leading up to that day, for many reasons.
2. I regret that we didn’t get the chance to do some things that we had talked about.
3. I wished that it was other people that I knew taken from us rather than Mike.
4. I wished that it had been me rather than him.
I recognize that some of these thoughts are selfish and not exactly clear thinking, but sometimes trying to wrap your mind around “why things happen” rebels against your logical judgment. I’ve always had a belief/faith in God, but I have to tell you, we were doing some serious WWF cage matches during this time. With the help of a loving family, some incredibly good friends, time and a little different view on life, I’m glad to be sharing these thoughts with you today. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Mike and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We made years and years of memories that I get to share with my kids, his kids and anyone else who will listen. All of this brings me to the story that I want to share with you of this past weekend.
The last few years of Mike’s life he started getting into deer hunting. I like to think that I spurred that notion in him. We spent many seasons going pheasant and rabbit hunting; as well as lots of cold nights in the countryside on raccoon hunts. We didn’t get the opportunity to go deer hunting together and I wish that weren’t the case. If we had I know that Mike would love the property we are leasing down in Kentucky. Since September, I’ve had the opportunity to share some time with some pretty special people. My love for the outdoors is only surpassed by my love for my family and good friends. {Which I consider family} I’ve been spending some time at a 450 acre farm south of Louisville that we affectionately call “The Camp” with an old friend from when we lived in Illinois. My last post touched on our reconnecting. This past weekend was another memory maker. Along with the time spent cruising the property and in the woods hunting deer, it was great to get to see Brad’s children Rhiannon {28} and Brandon. {18} I hadn’t seen either of them since they were young, around 6-8 yrs old. It was as if the 10 to 20 years hadn’t taken place; great natured kids with a promising life. Without a doubt, Brad and Deb are very proud of them, me too. It was also good to see the matriarch of the family, Sarah Noe, Brad and Kent’s mother. I was introduced to a few people that I didn’t know, gathering as strangers and leaving as new-found friends. This being my third trip to the camp I thought it would be great to bring along a good friend from here in Ohio. So my pal, Matt Moore, joined me in the long weekend hunt at “The Camp”.
When we arrived a game plan was coming together on where everyone would be hunting and what was the likelihood of taking a nice deer come morning. A couple had been taken a few weeks before and many had been seen at different locations on the farm. On opening day we had 6 hunters in various locations on the farm with very high expectations. As it sometimes goes, the deer didn’t cooperate. We went from having 50 degree temps midweek, to having 70 degree Indian Summer days on Friday and Saturday. The deer just weren’t moving and only one was taken opening morning by Brandon. That afternoon we were all out in the woods until dark. A few deer were seen but no one took a shot. The evening was filled with lots of laughter and good times, to the point that my sides and head hurt from laughing too much. Maybe at another time I will tell you about the “Southern Baptist Hayride”…maybe I won’t.
Saturday night after I went to bed I had a crazy dream. My dream was that I was out hunting the farm and I shot three deer on Sunday morning. I told the guys at camp that I had that dream, but I didn’t tell them the entire dream. In my dream, I was hunting the farm with my brother Mike. We were having a great time enjoying the scenery of the rolling hills and tree lines. The deer came out and we harvested them. I’m not one to dream very often but this one was so vivid and clear it was as if it was really happening. We got up Sunday morning and went through our regular routines. Before heading to the woods I told the guys, “Today the deer are going down.” I went out and got settled into my stand and it wasn’t long before first light was upon us. The first deer was coming up out of the bottoms to the ridge I was hunting around 6:15 am straight across from the stand I was in. As I readied myself for the deer to top the ridge into the clearing I was thinking about the dream. Could it really happen? As soon as the deer cleared the ridge and started moving to my left it entered the shooting lane that I had chosen earlier. I grunted and the deer stopped in its tracks. I fired a round, hitting the deer right in the kill zone and it turned and traveled back into the woods about 75 yards. It was exactly 6:30 am. I usually wait about 15-20 minutes before getting down from the stand to track a deer. So right around 6:45 am I was thinking about getting down when out of the corner of my eye I caught some movement off to my right. About 115 yards on the other side of the clearing several deer were heading my way. As I looked them over I choose the biggest of the four and decided if they moved in I would take that one. As luck would have it they continued into the middle of the clearing on the ridge and again I grunted. The deer came to a complete stop and I sealed the deal. A round at about 70 yards dropped that deer in its tracks. I’ve only seen this happen a couple of times, but when I fired my gun the other three deer scattered off to the southwest. It wasn’t even a minute and they all returned and started milling around the deer that was down. It would have been easy to shoot another deer but the more I thought about it I decided two was enough. I know the “dream” didn’t get fulfilled, but really, who needs to harvest 3 deer in one day? I was very happy to get the opportunity to get the two. As I cleared my firearm, the deer milling around the fallen one decided that sticking around was a bad idea and with the closing of the bolt action, they bolted off into the woods.
Now the work starts; tracking, field dressing and retrieving the deer. Luckily we have multiple bodies and a couple of ATVs to make the job a little easier. The 2nd deer I could still see from the stand. The first one I had to do a little work to find it. I went to where I thought it entered back into the woods after I shot and there was evidence waiting for me. The unfortunate part, the property had been logged 5+ years ago and now it was thick, thick, thick with briars and brambles that made it tough for a deer to pass through. I started down the hillside following the trail left for me. 75 yards down the hill and I finally found the deer. After getting some help dragging it the rest of the way to the clearing and loaded up onto the side-by-side ATV,
I couldn’t help but think about the dream. I didn’t harvest 3 deer, but I did get two; one for me and one for Mike. I was extremely pleased, not just because I got to shoot a deer, but because it was almost as if Sunday morning was a continuation of Saturday nights dream. In spirit, I know Mike was with me. He’s always in my thoughts and in my heart. It was invigorating to share the success of the hunt with all the guys at “The Camp”. That night I was humbled with the honor of preparing the tenderloins on the grill for the hungry hunters and our guests. Everyone enjoyed them immensely. That brings me as much joy as the hunt. Some of the guys had to be on their way Sunday evening so Monday morning just Josh, Matt and I went out hunting. Unfortunately, a heavy fog rolled in and visibility became a problem. We decided that breaking camp a little early and getting back to our families in Ohio would be a good idea. So we began to wrap things up. As much fun as we have and the pure joy I get just from being in the outdoors, it’s always good to get back home. We had another awesome weekend of fun and new friends. I can’t wait to bring DJ and the rest of the family down to “The Camp”. But until then, I’ll remember this last weekend as the deer hunting season that Mike and I finally got to share. That’s the view from my stand!
1. I regret not calling Mike in the two weeks leading up to that day, for many reasons.
2. I regret that we didn’t get the chance to do some things that we had talked about.
3. I wished that it was other people that I knew taken from us rather than Mike.
4. I wished that it had been me rather than him.
I recognize that some of these thoughts are selfish and not exactly clear thinking, but sometimes trying to wrap your mind around “why things happen” rebels against your logical judgment. I’ve always had a belief/faith in God, but I have to tell you, we were doing some serious WWF cage matches during this time. With the help of a loving family, some incredibly good friends, time and a little different view on life, I’m glad to be sharing these thoughts with you today. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Mike and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We made years and years of memories that I get to share with my kids, his kids and anyone else who will listen. All of this brings me to the story that I want to share with you of this past weekend.
The last few years of Mike’s life he started getting into deer hunting. I like to think that I spurred that notion in him. We spent many seasons going pheasant and rabbit hunting; as well as lots of cold nights in the countryside on raccoon hunts. We didn’t get the opportunity to go deer hunting together and I wish that weren’t the case. If we had I know that Mike would love the property we are leasing down in Kentucky. Since September, I’ve had the opportunity to share some time with some pretty special people. My love for the outdoors is only surpassed by my love for my family and good friends. {Which I consider family} I’ve been spending some time at a 450 acre farm south of Louisville that we affectionately call “The Camp” with an old friend from when we lived in Illinois. My last post touched on our reconnecting. This past weekend was another memory maker. Along with the time spent cruising the property and in the woods hunting deer, it was great to get to see Brad’s children Rhiannon {28} and Brandon. {18} I hadn’t seen either of them since they were young, around 6-8 yrs old. It was as if the 10 to 20 years hadn’t taken place; great natured kids with a promising life. Without a doubt, Brad and Deb are very proud of them, me too. It was also good to see the matriarch of the family, Sarah Noe, Brad and Kent’s mother. I was introduced to a few people that I didn’t know, gathering as strangers and leaving as new-found friends. This being my third trip to the camp I thought it would be great to bring along a good friend from here in Ohio. So my pal, Matt Moore, joined me in the long weekend hunt at “The Camp”.
When we arrived a game plan was coming together on where everyone would be hunting and what was the likelihood of taking a nice deer come morning. A couple had been taken a few weeks before and many had been seen at different locations on the farm. On opening day we had 6 hunters in various locations on the farm with very high expectations. As it sometimes goes, the deer didn’t cooperate. We went from having 50 degree temps midweek, to having 70 degree Indian Summer days on Friday and Saturday. The deer just weren’t moving and only one was taken opening morning by Brandon. That afternoon we were all out in the woods until dark. A few deer were seen but no one took a shot. The evening was filled with lots of laughter and good times, to the point that my sides and head hurt from laughing too much. Maybe at another time I will tell you about the “Southern Baptist Hayride”…maybe I won’t.
Saturday night after I went to bed I had a crazy dream. My dream was that I was out hunting the farm and I shot three deer on Sunday morning. I told the guys at camp that I had that dream, but I didn’t tell them the entire dream. In my dream, I was hunting the farm with my brother Mike. We were having a great time enjoying the scenery of the rolling hills and tree lines. The deer came out and we harvested them. I’m not one to dream very often but this one was so vivid and clear it was as if it was really happening. We got up Sunday morning and went through our regular routines. Before heading to the woods I told the guys, “Today the deer are going down.” I went out and got settled into my stand and it wasn’t long before first light was upon us. The first deer was coming up out of the bottoms to the ridge I was hunting around 6:15 am straight across from the stand I was in. As I readied myself for the deer to top the ridge into the clearing I was thinking about the dream. Could it really happen? As soon as the deer cleared the ridge and started moving to my left it entered the shooting lane that I had chosen earlier. I grunted and the deer stopped in its tracks. I fired a round, hitting the deer right in the kill zone and it turned and traveled back into the woods about 75 yards. It was exactly 6:30 am. I usually wait about 15-20 minutes before getting down from the stand to track a deer. So right around 6:45 am I was thinking about getting down when out of the corner of my eye I caught some movement off to my right. About 115 yards on the other side of the clearing several deer were heading my way. As I looked them over I choose the biggest of the four and decided if they moved in I would take that one. As luck would have it they continued into the middle of the clearing on the ridge and again I grunted. The deer came to a complete stop and I sealed the deal. A round at about 70 yards dropped that deer in its tracks. I’ve only seen this happen a couple of times, but when I fired my gun the other three deer scattered off to the southwest. It wasn’t even a minute and they all returned and started milling around the deer that was down. It would have been easy to shoot another deer but the more I thought about it I decided two was enough. I know the “dream” didn’t get fulfilled, but really, who needs to harvest 3 deer in one day? I was very happy to get the opportunity to get the two. As I cleared my firearm, the deer milling around the fallen one decided that sticking around was a bad idea and with the closing of the bolt action, they bolted off into the woods.
Now the work starts; tracking, field dressing and retrieving the deer. Luckily we have multiple bodies and a couple of ATVs to make the job a little easier. The 2nd deer I could still see from the stand. The first one I had to do a little work to find it. I went to where I thought it entered back into the woods after I shot and there was evidence waiting for me. The unfortunate part, the property had been logged 5+ years ago and now it was thick, thick, thick with briars and brambles that made it tough for a deer to pass through. I started down the hillside following the trail left for me. 75 yards down the hill and I finally found the deer. After getting some help dragging it the rest of the way to the clearing and loaded up onto the side-by-side ATV,
I couldn’t help but think about the dream. I didn’t harvest 3 deer, but I did get two; one for me and one for Mike. I was extremely pleased, not just because I got to shoot a deer, but because it was almost as if Sunday morning was a continuation of Saturday nights dream. In spirit, I know Mike was with me. He’s always in my thoughts and in my heart. It was invigorating to share the success of the hunt with all the guys at “The Camp”. That night I was humbled with the honor of preparing the tenderloins on the grill for the hungry hunters and our guests. Everyone enjoyed them immensely. That brings me as much joy as the hunt. Some of the guys had to be on their way Sunday evening so Monday morning just Josh, Matt and I went out hunting. Unfortunately, a heavy fog rolled in and visibility became a problem. We decided that breaking camp a little early and getting back to our families in Ohio would be a good idea. So we began to wrap things up. As much fun as we have and the pure joy I get just from being in the outdoors, it’s always good to get back home. We had another awesome weekend of fun and new friends. I can’t wait to bring DJ and the rest of the family down to “The Camp”. But until then, I’ll remember this last weekend as the deer hunting season that Mike and I finally got to share. That’s the view from my stand!
Monday, September 6, 2010
Footprints
I haven’t taken the time to sit down and write for awhile so I thought this would be a good time to do so. The summer has been especially busy and time just seems to fly by. Speaking of “time flying by”, I spent the weekend with and old friend I hadn’t seen in maybe 10-12 years. Now, when I say old, I don’t mean he’s really old; although, he is older than I. We were close friends for many years when we lived in Illinois. And as life goes, we moved to Ohio and seemed to lose our connection. We didn’t stop being friends, our life’s journey were just taking us in different directions. Whether it was the busyness of life, family circumstances, or the 400 miles; it just happens. As fate would have it, and a little bit of help from the internet, we have been able to reconnect.
One of the reasons we are friends in the first place is because we both have a great passion for the outdoors. We love to fish, hunt, spend time in the woods, sit by a good roaring fire and tell stories, watch the sunrise and set over a tree line or body of water and enjoy a good cold adult beverage. Even the passing of years hasn’t changed these things in us. Those are the things that make us “who we are” and they are the qualities and characteristics that bring those that are like-minded together.
We had a great weekend staying at an old farmhouse on a 450 acre farm with lots of woods, rolling fields, soggy river bottom ground and a nice little fishing pond. We took a tour of the property in an old Land Rover that reminded me of the tv show when we were kids, “Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom”. Later we cruised the property again on ATV’s. We dove hunted Saturday evening and both of us were able to take a deer on Sunday. My friend is quite the outdoors chef as well and we had some incredibly tasty feasts that included; walleye, deer tenderloin, dove breasts wrapped in smoked bacon and pork tenderloin. What more can a guy ask for, right? The times I enjoyed the most this weekend were spent around the fire ring telling stories about the “good ole days”, the “PA” story, catching up on each others lives, and hearing about what’s going with other friends back home we both knew/know.
It was a great break that couldn’t have come at a better time for me, and maybe both of us. My friend has a lot on his plate. He’s certainly not one that would burden others with the things life has dealt him; he’s never been a complainer. The last few years a miserable disease has taken its toll on my friend’s wife, totally changing the bubbly person she used to be and slowly draining the life from her. I know it’s incredibly hard to watch someone you love decline in the quality of life that we usually take for granted. We really didn’t talk about it much. I guess you could say it was the things “not said” and the things we just know about each other. My friend has a saying that pretty much sums up how he deals with things, “It is what it is.” He’s always been one of the most consistent guys I’ve known. He will do what needs to be done and care for his wife because that’s what you do.
I’m sharing this with you because I have many friends who have an incredibly strong faith and prayer life. My friends, old {long time} and new are always special to me. Each in their own way leaves footprints on the trail that is my life journey. We were taught from a young age that “there’s a peace that comes from God that surpasses all human understanding.” I’m not fully aware or can wrap my mind around that kind of peace when you see the conditions of this world. I guess that’s where our faith takes over. I usually don’t do this on my blog, but if you read this I’m asking you to say a prayer for “the peace that surpasses all human understanding” for my friends Brad and Deb. They are good people and have left some dusty footprints on my memory. I’m thankful today, that there are fresh footprints on the path and we’ll have the chance to create some more in the near future. There’s a saying that comes to mind right now, “None of us are promised tomorrow, so make the best of your today.” I’m glad we made the best of our long weekend.
That’s the view from my stand!
One of the reasons we are friends in the first place is because we both have a great passion for the outdoors. We love to fish, hunt, spend time in the woods, sit by a good roaring fire and tell stories, watch the sunrise and set over a tree line or body of water and enjoy a good cold adult beverage. Even the passing of years hasn’t changed these things in us. Those are the things that make us “who we are” and they are the qualities and characteristics that bring those that are like-minded together.
We had a great weekend staying at an old farmhouse on a 450 acre farm with lots of woods, rolling fields, soggy river bottom ground and a nice little fishing pond. We took a tour of the property in an old Land Rover that reminded me of the tv show when we were kids, “Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom”. Later we cruised the property again on ATV’s. We dove hunted Saturday evening and both of us were able to take a deer on Sunday. My friend is quite the outdoors chef as well and we had some incredibly tasty feasts that included; walleye, deer tenderloin, dove breasts wrapped in smoked bacon and pork tenderloin. What more can a guy ask for, right? The times I enjoyed the most this weekend were spent around the fire ring telling stories about the “good ole days”, the “PA” story, catching up on each others lives, and hearing about what’s going with other friends back home we both knew/know.
It was a great break that couldn’t have come at a better time for me, and maybe both of us. My friend has a lot on his plate. He’s certainly not one that would burden others with the things life has dealt him; he’s never been a complainer. The last few years a miserable disease has taken its toll on my friend’s wife, totally changing the bubbly person she used to be and slowly draining the life from her. I know it’s incredibly hard to watch someone you love decline in the quality of life that we usually take for granted. We really didn’t talk about it much. I guess you could say it was the things “not said” and the things we just know about each other. My friend has a saying that pretty much sums up how he deals with things, “It is what it is.” He’s always been one of the most consistent guys I’ve known. He will do what needs to be done and care for his wife because that’s what you do.
I’m sharing this with you because I have many friends who have an incredibly strong faith and prayer life. My friends, old {long time} and new are always special to me. Each in their own way leaves footprints on the trail that is my life journey. We were taught from a young age that “there’s a peace that comes from God that surpasses all human understanding.” I’m not fully aware or can wrap my mind around that kind of peace when you see the conditions of this world. I guess that’s where our faith takes over. I usually don’t do this on my blog, but if you read this I’m asking you to say a prayer for “the peace that surpasses all human understanding” for my friends Brad and Deb. They are good people and have left some dusty footprints on my memory. I’m thankful today, that there are fresh footprints on the path and we’ll have the chance to create some more in the near future. There’s a saying that comes to mind right now, “None of us are promised tomorrow, so make the best of your today.” I’m glad we made the best of our long weekend.
That’s the view from my stand!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Music, Memories and Mongo!
This morning as I was doing my walking at the little county park down the road from us, a number of things came to mind. Yeah, I know, sometimes I can be a little random but for the most part I'm very comfortable blaming it on my OCD. Are you one of those people like me, where certain songs you hear creates a flood of emotions or feelings? Maybe they are reminders of people in your life, and to hear the song it warms your heart or sometimes, breaks it. Maybe there are songs that create negative feelings for you {D I V O R C E..becomes final todaaay} okay.. maybe that's not a negative. I choose to have songs that are positive and lift my spirits on my Ipod. Sometimes while I'm walking, a song will come on that I love {Journey, Chris Tomlin, Mercy Me, Toby Mac, Brad Paisley} and I will start singing along with it. Only a time or two have I failed to not look around first and as I come around a turn on the path, there's someone with a big ole grin on their face because they heard me singing to music they can't hear. {or...maybe they were laughing!}
This morning, three songs that i heard while my IPod shuffled as I walked, they gathered such raw emotions in me, creating a lump in my throat and brought tears to my eyes. I hesitate to share them; but I'm going to anyway. The first one was Brad Paisley's "She's Everything". To me, this song describes in great detail how I feel about my lovely wife of 25 years. Here are just some of the words to that song that moved me to think of her this morning:
She's a Saturday out on the town
And a church girl on Sunday
She's a cross around her neck
And a cuss word 'cause its Monday
She's a bubble bath and candles
Baby come and kiss me
She's a one glass of wine
And she's feeling kinda tipsy
She's the hand that I'm holding
When I'm on my knees and praying
She's the answer to my prayer
And she's the song that I'm playing
[Chorus]
And she's everything I ever wanted
And everything I need
I talk about her, I go on and on and on
'Cause she's everything to me
I'm a pretty lucky guy when it comes to spouses, as some of my buddies who love football would say, "I out kicked my coverage!" But I am very thankful that this woman loves me, even during those times when I don't think I deserve her love.
The second song that made me take time to reflect this morning was another Paisley song that he sings with Dolly Parton; "When I Get Where I'm Going". If you're not familiar with the song here are some of the words to this one:
(Chorus:)
Yeah when I get where I'm going,
they'll be only happy tears.
I will shed the sins and struggles,
I have carried all these years.
And I'll leave my heart wide open,
I will love and have no fear.
Yeah when I get where I'm going,
Don't cry for me down here.
I'm gonna walk with my {grand}daddy,
and he'll match me step for step,
and I'll tell him how I missed him,
every minute since he left.
Then I'll hug his neck.
This year, 8 days after my birthday, it will be 15 years since Dad passed on. Hardly a week goes by that something I say, or something I hear someone else say, or even a sound or smell, triggers a memory of Dad. {I know what you're thinking about the sound/smell thing..stop it!} I miss a lot of things about Dad, but most of all I miss the times that just the two of us had together. With 10 kids and a pile of grand kids, that wasn't always easy to do to get that alone time. But I remember many trips of going to the farm and sitting with Dad working on Jigsaw Puzzles, playing
"31" or just having some lunch. He loved to eat fresh tomatoes covered in cottage cheese and peppered nearly black. I still do that a few times a summer myself. He hated not being able to walk or go to the garage and piddle around with stuff. He also hated having to be on oxygen as well. Those things were not "who he was".
I'll always remember when it was time for me to head back to the city, I'd give Dad a hug on his neck and tell him that I loved him. We would set a date for the next time I would be out to keep him company and then he would tell me, "give Barb and Abbydabby a hug for me!" I'm pretty sure he looked forward to our visits as much as I did, maybe even more. Damn, I miss him.
The last song that struck a chord with me this morning {get it..chord?} was from one of my favorite groups the last few years, Mercy Me. As I've gotten older and realized what a calloused world this could be, my faith is something that has certainly strengthened. In the Bible we're promised that God will never give us more than we can handle or bare. Mercy Me's song, "I Can Only Imagine" was one of the songs that we chose to have playing during the visiting hours at my brother Mike's funeral after his unexpected death in November 2008. We were more than just brothers, we were best friends. At the time of his passing, I wasn't so sure about that God "promise" I mentioned earlier. I wasn't prepared for it, I didn't want it to happen, I wasn't going to accept it. It was only through the constant reminder from family, friends, songs, etc. that helped me through this time. You could say, God worked on me, through them. Anyway, here are some of the lyrics from Mercy Me's song if you're not familiar with them:
I can only imagine
What it will be like
When I walk
By your side
I can only imagine
What my eyes will see
When your face
Is before me
I can only imagine
I can only imagine
[Chorus:]
Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel
Will I dance for you Jesus or in honor of you be still
Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine, I can only imagine.
This song brings a peace in me that tells me, "every things going to be alright!" I miss Dad and Mike, a lot. But because of my faith in God,I believe I will see them again. This keeps me at a good balance when it seems that our country is choosing to do all the wrong things for it's people. I believe that smaller government and less government interference in our lives is better for the country as a whole. Unfortunately, we currently have leaders that don't think that way. The thing to remember is, we have a great big {Mongo} God who is the one in control. Wherever you draw your strength from, tap into it and hold on, the next few years are going to be a bumpy ride. But in the end...ahhh.....I can only imagine! That's the view from my stand!
This morning, three songs that i heard while my IPod shuffled as I walked, they gathered such raw emotions in me, creating a lump in my throat and brought tears to my eyes. I hesitate to share them; but I'm going to anyway. The first one was Brad Paisley's "She's Everything". To me, this song describes in great detail how I feel about my lovely wife of 25 years. Here are just some of the words to that song that moved me to think of her this morning:
She's a Saturday out on the town
And a church girl on Sunday
She's a cross around her neck
And a cuss word 'cause its Monday
She's a bubble bath and candles
Baby come and kiss me
She's a one glass of wine
And she's feeling kinda tipsy
She's the hand that I'm holding
When I'm on my knees and praying
She's the answer to my prayer
And she's the song that I'm playing
[Chorus]
And she's everything I ever wanted
And everything I need
I talk about her, I go on and on and on
'Cause she's everything to me
I'm a pretty lucky guy when it comes to spouses, as some of my buddies who love football would say, "I out kicked my coverage!" But I am very thankful that this woman loves me, even during those times when I don't think I deserve her love.
The second song that made me take time to reflect this morning was another Paisley song that he sings with Dolly Parton; "When I Get Where I'm Going". If you're not familiar with the song here are some of the words to this one:
(Chorus:)
Yeah when I get where I'm going,
they'll be only happy tears.
I will shed the sins and struggles,
I have carried all these years.
And I'll leave my heart wide open,
I will love and have no fear.
Yeah when I get where I'm going,
Don't cry for me down here.
I'm gonna walk with my {grand}daddy,
and he'll match me step for step,
and I'll tell him how I missed him,
every minute since he left.
Then I'll hug his neck.
This year, 8 days after my birthday, it will be 15 years since Dad passed on. Hardly a week goes by that something I say, or something I hear someone else say, or even a sound or smell, triggers a memory of Dad. {I know what you're thinking about the sound/smell thing..stop it!} I miss a lot of things about Dad, but most of all I miss the times that just the two of us had together. With 10 kids and a pile of grand kids, that wasn't always easy to do to get that alone time. But I remember many trips of going to the farm and sitting with Dad working on Jigsaw Puzzles, playing
"31" or just having some lunch. He loved to eat fresh tomatoes covered in cottage cheese and peppered nearly black. I still do that a few times a summer myself. He hated not being able to walk or go to the garage and piddle around with stuff. He also hated having to be on oxygen as well. Those things were not "who he was".
I'll always remember when it was time for me to head back to the city, I'd give Dad a hug on his neck and tell him that I loved him. We would set a date for the next time I would be out to keep him company and then he would tell me, "give Barb and Abbydabby a hug for me!" I'm pretty sure he looked forward to our visits as much as I did, maybe even more. Damn, I miss him.
The last song that struck a chord with me this morning {get it..chord?} was from one of my favorite groups the last few years, Mercy Me. As I've gotten older and realized what a calloused world this could be, my faith is something that has certainly strengthened. In the Bible we're promised that God will never give us more than we can handle or bare. Mercy Me's song, "I Can Only Imagine" was one of the songs that we chose to have playing during the visiting hours at my brother Mike's funeral after his unexpected death in November 2008. We were more than just brothers, we were best friends. At the time of his passing, I wasn't so sure about that God "promise" I mentioned earlier. I wasn't prepared for it, I didn't want it to happen, I wasn't going to accept it. It was only through the constant reminder from family, friends, songs, etc. that helped me through this time. You could say, God worked on me, through them. Anyway, here are some of the lyrics from Mercy Me's song if you're not familiar with them:
I can only imagine
What it will be like
When I walk
By your side
I can only imagine
What my eyes will see
When your face
Is before me
I can only imagine
I can only imagine
[Chorus:]
Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel
Will I dance for you Jesus or in honor of you be still
Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine, I can only imagine.
This song brings a peace in me that tells me, "every things going to be alright!" I miss Dad and Mike, a lot. But because of my faith in God,I believe I will see them again. This keeps me at a good balance when it seems that our country is choosing to do all the wrong things for it's people. I believe that smaller government and less government interference in our lives is better for the country as a whole. Unfortunately, we currently have leaders that don't think that way. The thing to remember is, we have a great big {Mongo} God who is the one in control. Wherever you draw your strength from, tap into it and hold on, the next few years are going to be a bumpy ride. But in the end...ahhh.....I can only imagine! That's the view from my stand!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Thoughts from a dads point of view...
Writing a blog is a lot like keeping a journal or diary. The ideas are very off the cuff and emotions are sometimes raw, but very real. I had mentioned in an earlier blog post about an incident that happened when I was young. I know that many of us can think of times in our life, especially our youth, where we were doing something that seemed harmless and something bad happened. Maybe your life was in danger? It was one of those things that happen and it scares you to death. So much so, that I don't even remember telling mom and dad or very many others about it. But at times, it's as fresh in my mind like an event that happened yesterday.
The incident took place on the farm of my best friends grandparents. My buddy, Don and I were pretty much always together during our teenage years. We went to school together, we played sports together, we went to church together, we were in Scouts together, pretty much inseparable. We decided one spring, while visiting is grandparents farm, to take the canoe down the raging creek that ran through the farm property. Now, this was not our first time in a canoe or even the first time in rapid waters. We were traversing through the turns in the creek bed and enjoying a fun day on the water and in the outdoors. We were coming to a pretty defined left turn in the creek and we started "setting up" the canoe to make that turn in the rushing waters. We made the mistake of getting ready for that turn and planting our paddles a little bit early. As we entered the current in the bend, it tail spun the canoe and dumped us right out into the cold spring water. What happened next, didn't even give us time to worry about how cold the water was. My buddy was in the back of the canoe and was able to get clear of the canoe when it tumbled over. I wasn't as lucky. When the canoe tipped, I went out in the direction it tipped, towards the shore in front of me in the left hand bend. No sooner had I got in the water, the canoe was on top of me, pushing me towards the shore. Somehow, I ended up pinned against the bank by the canoe and the waters incredible force, completely under water. Occasionally, I still have dreams about being trapped against that bank under water and I wake up, breathing heavily. I can't even tell you today how much time passed while I was under water, but it seemed like forever. I know that back then I could hold my breath for more than 2 minutes, but caught in a predicament like this I doubt it was that long.
While I was pushed against the bank by the canoe and current, trapped under water, my friend was able to pull himself onto shore and make his way to where the canoe was jammed between tree roots and holding me captive. With what adrenalene I had left, I was doing everything I could to push the canoe away from my body. After trying to use his arms to push the canoe away from the bank, he finally used a tree for leverage and was able to use his legs and kick the canoe free. Thus, freeing me to come to the surface and get fresh air. I remember being so exhausted from all that happened after the canoe tipped, that I barely remember getting on shore. I do remember laying there and looking up at the sky and being thankful for being alive. Then of course, you start thinking, "oh man, mom and dad are going to kill me for doing this!" {I don't know why we think like that in our youth, you'd think mom and dad would be happy we were alive?} I remember thanking my buddy for getting us out of that situation and saving my life. {Believe it or not, he saved my life more than once. Yeah, we lived large!} I remember feeling like I was getting "another chance".
I tell you this story, to also share with you where I find myself today. 30+ years later, the images are as vivid as the colors on a Mardi Gras Parade float. I think back to the events like this and those similar, that shaped "who we are and who we want to be". I hope that I have done the right things that would make the actions of my friend saving my life, worthwhile. Taking into account the decisions I made then and beyond, that has impacted where I am today. I'm proud of many of my accomplishments, but most proud of my family {wife and kids} and the impact we have had on many children. I have this aching feeling right now for our own teenager and the decisions she will make in her life.
As many of you know, our Abby is now 17. She hasn't always made the best decisions {yes, we were teens once but she doesn't believe it!} and she has some really important ones facing her in the very near future. {keeping grade up, softball, college, job} These decisions will have a pretty big impact on her future and defining some of who she is. I guess as the dad here, I want her to look at the big picture rather then making decisions based on how she feels today. Trying to explain to a female teenager that basing any decisions on your overflow of emotions on any given day, is probably not wise and you may regret it. It's my hope that she would use the God-given intelligence and common sense that she has to make her decisions keeping in mind what's best for her in the long run. Most of all, we want her to be happy with her decisions and who she is. Every parent I know has or will have struggled with these thoughts and feelings. For me, putting them in the written form seems to help sort things out. The thing that we have always done and my parents did for us, is to love. Loving our kids unconditionally, even if they don't think we do, it is the greatest call on us as parents. I guess it's just my hope for them, that will get them to understand that with that love, we also want the very best for them. Will they have regrets? Probably, because many people do. We want them to be the best that they can be in what they choose to do, but we also want them to choose wisely. Maybe these are silly thoughts to some, maybe not. I'm just sharing in the view from my stand!
The incident took place on the farm of my best friends grandparents. My buddy, Don and I were pretty much always together during our teenage years. We went to school together, we played sports together, we went to church together, we were in Scouts together, pretty much inseparable. We decided one spring, while visiting is grandparents farm, to take the canoe down the raging creek that ran through the farm property. Now, this was not our first time in a canoe or even the first time in rapid waters. We were traversing through the turns in the creek bed and enjoying a fun day on the water and in the outdoors. We were coming to a pretty defined left turn in the creek and we started "setting up" the canoe to make that turn in the rushing waters. We made the mistake of getting ready for that turn and planting our paddles a little bit early. As we entered the current in the bend, it tail spun the canoe and dumped us right out into the cold spring water. What happened next, didn't even give us time to worry about how cold the water was. My buddy was in the back of the canoe and was able to get clear of the canoe when it tumbled over. I wasn't as lucky. When the canoe tipped, I went out in the direction it tipped, towards the shore in front of me in the left hand bend. No sooner had I got in the water, the canoe was on top of me, pushing me towards the shore. Somehow, I ended up pinned against the bank by the canoe and the waters incredible force, completely under water. Occasionally, I still have dreams about being trapped against that bank under water and I wake up, breathing heavily. I can't even tell you today how much time passed while I was under water, but it seemed like forever. I know that back then I could hold my breath for more than 2 minutes, but caught in a predicament like this I doubt it was that long.
While I was pushed against the bank by the canoe and current, trapped under water, my friend was able to pull himself onto shore and make his way to where the canoe was jammed between tree roots and holding me captive. With what adrenalene I had left, I was doing everything I could to push the canoe away from my body. After trying to use his arms to push the canoe away from the bank, he finally used a tree for leverage and was able to use his legs and kick the canoe free. Thus, freeing me to come to the surface and get fresh air. I remember being so exhausted from all that happened after the canoe tipped, that I barely remember getting on shore. I do remember laying there and looking up at the sky and being thankful for being alive. Then of course, you start thinking, "oh man, mom and dad are going to kill me for doing this!" {I don't know why we think like that in our youth, you'd think mom and dad would be happy we were alive?} I remember thanking my buddy for getting us out of that situation and saving my life. {Believe it or not, he saved my life more than once. Yeah, we lived large!} I remember feeling like I was getting "another chance".
I tell you this story, to also share with you where I find myself today. 30+ years later, the images are as vivid as the colors on a Mardi Gras Parade float. I think back to the events like this and those similar, that shaped "who we are and who we want to be". I hope that I have done the right things that would make the actions of my friend saving my life, worthwhile. Taking into account the decisions I made then and beyond, that has impacted where I am today. I'm proud of many of my accomplishments, but most proud of my family {wife and kids} and the impact we have had on many children. I have this aching feeling right now for our own teenager and the decisions she will make in her life.
As many of you know, our Abby is now 17. She hasn't always made the best decisions {yes, we were teens once but she doesn't believe it!} and she has some really important ones facing her in the very near future. {keeping grade up, softball, college, job} These decisions will have a pretty big impact on her future and defining some of who she is. I guess as the dad here, I want her to look at the big picture rather then making decisions based on how she feels today. Trying to explain to a female teenager that basing any decisions on your overflow of emotions on any given day, is probably not wise and you may regret it. It's my hope that she would use the God-given intelligence and common sense that she has to make her decisions keeping in mind what's best for her in the long run. Most of all, we want her to be happy with her decisions and who she is. Every parent I know has or will have struggled with these thoughts and feelings. For me, putting them in the written form seems to help sort things out. The thing that we have always done and my parents did for us, is to love. Loving our kids unconditionally, even if they don't think we do, it is the greatest call on us as parents. I guess it's just my hope for them, that will get them to understand that with that love, we also want the very best for them. Will they have regrets? Probably, because many people do. We want them to be the best that they can be in what they choose to do, but we also want them to choose wisely. Maybe these are silly thoughts to some, maybe not. I'm just sharing in the view from my stand!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
It's What's Inside That Counts
First and foremost, my apologies for not posting since the first of the year. It seems the first 2 months of this year have flown by and the family has been extremely busy. Like every family, we've had ups and downs but we keep on keeping on, knowing that we are truly blessed. So, thanks for your understanding in this and I'll try to be more diligent.
This evening I took Abby, our 17 year old, and we went to Ohio Wesleyan University to listen to Coach Herman Boone. He was brought in by several of the campus clubs in celebration of Black History Month. Coach Boone is the man who coached the high school football team that inspired the movie "Remember the Titans". What a treat this was for us. Coach Boone is still a very active, energetic and passionate speaker. He shared with us from his heart how difficult it was to carry out those coaching duties in Alexandria, Virginia in 1971. Racial tension was very high and the segregation of three schools, bringing white and black students together for the first time, was a very big challenge. Then, bringing the boys together as a team to play football was something all together different. Through their story the lives of so many people were changed. The coaches and players first had to learn to talk to each other and respect each others differences before they could learn to trust each other. If you remember the movie, this was quite a struggle. But the end result was a group of young men came together, looked inside themselves for the right answers, and succeeded. They changed a community, the community changed the state and the state changed a country for good.
While listening to Coach Boone speak, I couldn't help but think about how my eyes were opened to the issue of race and how my heart and mind were changed. In 1971, I was 7 years old. Race was something we ran against each other when Mom hollered from the back porch to come in for dinner. We grew up in a small farming community of 400 people {I think they counted pets too} in central Illinois. There were african americans living in central Illinois at the time but not really in our community or in our schools. We were taught from a young age to respect and love others as we want to be respected and loved. Somewhere in that time I developed more of an indifference to people who were different. By different I mean not growing up in a "white" family, not living in a "white" community, not attending a "white" church and not going to a "white" school. Later in life, during training to be foster/adopt parents, that was termed being "white bread". We did a cross-cultural exercise where everyone had a bowl in front of them. On the table around you were trays of colored beads. The leader gave directions like these; "Put a black bead in the bowl for every african american family that lived within a mile of where you grew up. Put a yellow bead in the bowl for every oriental you had in your class at school." It didn't take long to see we lived a pretty sheltered life in rural America. Ok, so I was "white bread". During those most impressionable years, I also started believing things that were being said about blacks; they were mean, they were lazy, they were theives, they hurt people needlessly, all of the stereotypes you can think of during those times in our life come to mind. I believed those things to the point that I just didn't like or want to be around anyone that was different.
We did have one student in our HS that was black and she seemed okay to me but we didn't have the same friends, indifference. It wasn't until I started my first job after school that I was forced into working close with someone of color. It turned out to be a life lesson for me. This guy was really a good dude. As time went on, I began to realize that "they" all weren't the same. Many things happened the next few years but it took those experiences to change my perspective on people in general but specifically people of color. I began to gauge people more by the "content of their character rather than by the color of their skin." I guess that's when I started growing up. I've found that it doesn't matter what color a persons skin is, good is good and evil is evil. I know that none of these things are "earth shattering" but I believe that each of us, depending on our upbringing and the character of our parents, go through this discovery of who we are. Obviously, some walk away from this experience and continue to choose to hate with no valid reasons. I hope that some day our children will be able to go where they want, take on any challenge they face, and be respected and loved for the people they are on the inside. The color of their skin is a non-factor because you and I know, that it's what's inside that counts the most.
Until next time, that's the view from my stand.
This evening I took Abby, our 17 year old, and we went to Ohio Wesleyan University to listen to Coach Herman Boone. He was brought in by several of the campus clubs in celebration of Black History Month. Coach Boone is the man who coached the high school football team that inspired the movie "Remember the Titans". What a treat this was for us. Coach Boone is still a very active, energetic and passionate speaker. He shared with us from his heart how difficult it was to carry out those coaching duties in Alexandria, Virginia in 1971. Racial tension was very high and the segregation of three schools, bringing white and black students together for the first time, was a very big challenge. Then, bringing the boys together as a team to play football was something all together different. Through their story the lives of so many people were changed. The coaches and players first had to learn to talk to each other and respect each others differences before they could learn to trust each other. If you remember the movie, this was quite a struggle. But the end result was a group of young men came together, looked inside themselves for the right answers, and succeeded. They changed a community, the community changed the state and the state changed a country for good.
While listening to Coach Boone speak, I couldn't help but think about how my eyes were opened to the issue of race and how my heart and mind were changed. In 1971, I was 7 years old. Race was something we ran against each other when Mom hollered from the back porch to come in for dinner. We grew up in a small farming community of 400 people {I think they counted pets too} in central Illinois. There were african americans living in central Illinois at the time but not really in our community or in our schools. We were taught from a young age to respect and love others as we want to be respected and loved. Somewhere in that time I developed more of an indifference to people who were different. By different I mean not growing up in a "white" family, not living in a "white" community, not attending a "white" church and not going to a "white" school. Later in life, during training to be foster/adopt parents, that was termed being "white bread". We did a cross-cultural exercise where everyone had a bowl in front of them. On the table around you were trays of colored beads. The leader gave directions like these; "Put a black bead in the bowl for every african american family that lived within a mile of where you grew up. Put a yellow bead in the bowl for every oriental you had in your class at school." It didn't take long to see we lived a pretty sheltered life in rural America. Ok, so I was "white bread". During those most impressionable years, I also started believing things that were being said about blacks; they were mean, they were lazy, they were theives, they hurt people needlessly, all of the stereotypes you can think of during those times in our life come to mind. I believed those things to the point that I just didn't like or want to be around anyone that was different.
We did have one student in our HS that was black and she seemed okay to me but we didn't have the same friends, indifference. It wasn't until I started my first job after school that I was forced into working close with someone of color. It turned out to be a life lesson for me. This guy was really a good dude. As time went on, I began to realize that "they" all weren't the same. Many things happened the next few years but it took those experiences to change my perspective on people in general but specifically people of color. I began to gauge people more by the "content of their character rather than by the color of their skin." I guess that's when I started growing up. I've found that it doesn't matter what color a persons skin is, good is good and evil is evil. I know that none of these things are "earth shattering" but I believe that each of us, depending on our upbringing and the character of our parents, go through this discovery of who we are. Obviously, some walk away from this experience and continue to choose to hate with no valid reasons. I hope that some day our children will be able to go where they want, take on any challenge they face, and be respected and loved for the people they are on the inside. The color of their skin is a non-factor because you and I know, that it's what's inside that counts the most.
Until next time, that's the view from my stand.
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