Here's the very rare blog post that comes on my birthday. In fact, welcome to the first one. I turned 44 today. I'm now the age when I thought my parents were old. I was wrong. I mostly wanted to write today because now, more than ever, I have a captive audience. I'm sorry that all of you have to stay home (for those of you that do). I'm sorry you had to cancel your plans. I'm really sorry to those of you that are going to have to miss milestones this year. My niece, Megan, is supposed to graduate from high school this year. Megan is not actually my niece, but she practically is. I taught her how to turn on the lights in the house. I hate that she has to miss a special day. Those of you that just found out that school was cancelled, I'm sorry. I hate that we're going to have to stay home for Easter. Easter is one of my favorites. We normally have everyone over for dinner. I smoke several large pieces of meat. But mostly, I'm going to miss having everyone around. I'm going to miss not being able to go to the church building and celebrate the resurrection of Jesus with my church family. I miss being able to go the grocery store and get everything that is on the list without having to change things up on the fly because of availability of some items. I hate that my boys can't casually go and see their grandparents on a whim. Today is my Mother in Law's birthday as well. I hate that we aren't going to be able to celebrate our birthdays together anytime soon.
I'm done telling you about what I'm sad about or hating or disappointed with right now. The list is longer than what I just wrote. Of all the lessons I've learned in my 44 years, there really aren't a whole lot of things that truly matter besides relationships. The most important being the relationship with our Creator. Doubt would be easy right now. Questioning is easy right now. That's not how I'm approaching any of this. I choose faith today. I choose faith in a Sovereign that isn't caught off guard by any of this. I'm looking at this as a reset button that's been hit, and we get to try again. Taking for granted things that we view as always being there, and all of a sudden, they aren't has been eye opening. The idea of walking up to someone and giving them a handshake or a hug right now seems like a foreign concept. I think God has used this time in history to speak to the hearts of people that have been searching for answers for a long time and not finding them. The other day, I let fear set in for a few minutes. I felt my heart rate increase. I got a little clammy and shaky for a minute because I wasn’t looking at this through the proper lens. I had to repent later on. Letting fear win, for me, is a sin worthy of repenting for. The moment I repented for it, I felt a peace that had been missing in the previous few days. Fear will never win the day again for me. It's a dark place to be. This is the time when the rubber meets the road. Do I have faith, or am I a fraud? I have faith that God is above all of it. I know that he has given men and women that are much smarter than I am, the ability to study this thing and either find a treatment or a vaccine that will work. I live with hope.
The other relationships, the ones with you, whoever is reading this are important to me as well. At some point in time, you have made some type of impact on me. If you're my family, you know that we've walked through some dark days together. We're here right now. It didn't kill us. If you're my close friends, we've been through some stuff. Both of my best friends and I have all lost brothers. It sucked, but we know where they're at, and they're all three better off than us right now. And friends that I've come across along the way, we've cried tears, raised glasses, laughed, and prayed together a lot over the years, here's to many more of those when we can get back together again. Mostly, I just want all of you to know that I miss you. I'm praying for you.
One last note to any of you that are currently or have been my pastors previously, I want you guys to know that I know the burden you're carrying for your flocks right now. Or if you're one of my friends that are in ministry. Thank you for doing what you do. This season is a particular challenge for you that hasn't happened in recent history. I know you're working harder. I know you're frustrated having to preach to a camera, or laptop, or iPhone right now. I know it's tough singing to someone that you can't see or hear. The reunion is going to be sweet. Hang in there. If I can be of service to you in any way, reach out.
Monday, March 30, 2020
Wednesday, March 4, 2020
Pickups.
A little while back, I was talking to Buzz. He was telling me that when he spent some time in Southeastern New Mexico, he was surprised at how many people that drove pick up trucks. I hadn't ever really thought about it that much, but he's right. Per capita, there are more pick ups in that area than any other area of the country (I can't prove this, so I won't). I was then reminded of the time in my when I thought that I would attempt to write a book. I didn't make it that far. At that point in my life, I hadn't lived much life. While mulling over ideas for chapters, I had an idea for one. I was going to call it, "Everything that I ever learned, I learned by having a conversation around the bed of a pick up truck".
As far back as I can remember, the Tomblin's had a lot of pick up trucks. My family had a water well drilling business. My Grandpa was a welder. We owned cattle. Thus requiring the ownership of pick ups. Inevitably, we'd all start the day around the bed, getting the plan together for the day. We'd get the tools out, or the equipment. Or the ice chest. I remember my Grandma would send us out with sandwiches, wrapped in wax paper. I would ride in the back of the pick up when we were driving around. This was before we had this hang up about child safety. I remember doing the hand dolphin, or opening my mouth and seeing how big my cheeks would get when they filled with air. But I always remember any number of pick ups always being around. We'd always be working on one. New starters. New alternators. Clutch would go out. I know. A clutch is a very novel idea in 2020. At the end of the day, we would inevitably gather around the bed and dissect the day. The things that went well, and the things that went not so well. There would be laughing. There would be arguments. Grandpa or Dad or both, would give instructions about the things that needed to be done to leave for the day. And there would be reminders of what we needed to get for the next day.
For the most part I was useless when I was younger. I just went to along because it was the thing we did. In the summertime, I went to the rig. Or the wench truck to pull water pumps. Most of the things that were talked about around the bed when I was younger was a foreign language to me. As I've gotten older, I realize that this was where these relationships were forged. My Grandpa passed away when I was 13. I could've used a few more years with him around the bed of a pickup truck. 43 year old me has a few questions for the man that I knew had been through so much tragedy. I loved my Grandpa. He didn't talk a lot. I think its where I get it from. I know that he had a ton of wisdom to pass along that would've benefited me today. I don't want to get into the nitty gritty of all of this, but my Dad's parents dealt with more loss than just about anyone else I know of. Shoot, now that I think about it, both of my parent's parent's have dealt with more loss than just about anyone I know of. I would pay a lot of money to have one more chat with Jim Tomblin about life, and death. He would love my boys. He would love my wife. I miss him quite a bit.
Around the bed of the truck is where we would get our fishing poles ready. Hooks tied. Extras put on our hats in case something happened in the water and we wouldn't have to go back if the white bass were hungry and we lost tackle. Aaron and I would laugh at whatever dumb thing the other said. Aaron isn't scare by any creature on the planet. He's super weird in that way. He loves snakes and stuff. I, on the other hand, do not. So when I see Aaron leap from flat feet into the back of my faded green oil field truck that we bought used from the company my Dad worked for, it meant that I needed to do the same thing without question. We both looked over the side to see two javelina hanging out. Aaron said the one came up and sniffed his ankle and freaked him out. I sent Aaron out of the truck first to see if they'd eat him. They didn't. They were friendly. We fed them some black jelly beans that I had in my truck from easter and we named them Beavis and Butthead. I'd pay a lot of money to go back and have one more time around the bed of my pick up with my best friend, getting ready to go fishing.
I have too many stories around a pickup bed that mean something to me to tell you in a blog post. My brother was there a lot. My family was there a lot. My best friends were there a lot. Girls I had crushes on were there a lot. People I didn't like were there too. I spent a lot of time alone around the bed of a pick up truck. I would go out to secluded places and pray. Pray for my best friend. Pray for my brother. Pray about the girls I had crushes on. I will tell you this right now. Even years later, prayers that I prayed 20 and 30 years ago are still being answered now. Some yes, some no. But answered nonetheless. There's a book here now. I don't know if it will ever be written, but if you've ever been with me around the bed of my pickup, I want you to know that I miss being with you there. I'm praying for good things for you. I now realize that I want a pick up truck again. Maybe my next vehicle purchase will be a pick up.
As far back as I can remember, the Tomblin's had a lot of pick up trucks. My family had a water well drilling business. My Grandpa was a welder. We owned cattle. Thus requiring the ownership of pick ups. Inevitably, we'd all start the day around the bed, getting the plan together for the day. We'd get the tools out, or the equipment. Or the ice chest. I remember my Grandma would send us out with sandwiches, wrapped in wax paper. I would ride in the back of the pick up when we were driving around. This was before we had this hang up about child safety. I remember doing the hand dolphin, or opening my mouth and seeing how big my cheeks would get when they filled with air. But I always remember any number of pick ups always being around. We'd always be working on one. New starters. New alternators. Clutch would go out. I know. A clutch is a very novel idea in 2020. At the end of the day, we would inevitably gather around the bed and dissect the day. The things that went well, and the things that went not so well. There would be laughing. There would be arguments. Grandpa or Dad or both, would give instructions about the things that needed to be done to leave for the day. And there would be reminders of what we needed to get for the next day.
For the most part I was useless when I was younger. I just went to along because it was the thing we did. In the summertime, I went to the rig. Or the wench truck to pull water pumps. Most of the things that were talked about around the bed when I was younger was a foreign language to me. As I've gotten older, I realize that this was where these relationships were forged. My Grandpa passed away when I was 13. I could've used a few more years with him around the bed of a pickup truck. 43 year old me has a few questions for the man that I knew had been through so much tragedy. I loved my Grandpa. He didn't talk a lot. I think its where I get it from. I know that he had a ton of wisdom to pass along that would've benefited me today. I don't want to get into the nitty gritty of all of this, but my Dad's parents dealt with more loss than just about anyone else I know of. Shoot, now that I think about it, both of my parent's parent's have dealt with more loss than just about anyone I know of. I would pay a lot of money to have one more chat with Jim Tomblin about life, and death. He would love my boys. He would love my wife. I miss him quite a bit.
Around the bed of the truck is where we would get our fishing poles ready. Hooks tied. Extras put on our hats in case something happened in the water and we wouldn't have to go back if the white bass were hungry and we lost tackle. Aaron and I would laugh at whatever dumb thing the other said. Aaron isn't scare by any creature on the planet. He's super weird in that way. He loves snakes and stuff. I, on the other hand, do not. So when I see Aaron leap from flat feet into the back of my faded green oil field truck that we bought used from the company my Dad worked for, it meant that I needed to do the same thing without question. We both looked over the side to see two javelina hanging out. Aaron said the one came up and sniffed his ankle and freaked him out. I sent Aaron out of the truck first to see if they'd eat him. They didn't. They were friendly. We fed them some black jelly beans that I had in my truck from easter and we named them Beavis and Butthead. I'd pay a lot of money to go back and have one more time around the bed of my pick up with my best friend, getting ready to go fishing.
I have too many stories around a pickup bed that mean something to me to tell you in a blog post. My brother was there a lot. My family was there a lot. My best friends were there a lot. Girls I had crushes on were there a lot. People I didn't like were there too. I spent a lot of time alone around the bed of a pick up truck. I would go out to secluded places and pray. Pray for my best friend. Pray for my brother. Pray about the girls I had crushes on. I will tell you this right now. Even years later, prayers that I prayed 20 and 30 years ago are still being answered now. Some yes, some no. But answered nonetheless. There's a book here now. I don't know if it will ever be written, but if you've ever been with me around the bed of my pickup, I want you to know that I miss being with you there. I'm praying for good things for you. I now realize that I want a pick up truck again. Maybe my next vehicle purchase will be a pick up.
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