6 and Leach

 I didn't expect Mike Leach's passing to effect me as much as it did.  I didn't sleep well on Wednesday night because of it. I've always admired Coach Leach.  His teams in Lubbock were so fun to watch.  Except in 2008.  He was a football savant.  A genius. You can read all of that stuff in other places though.  It's been well covered. I think the thing that I admired most about him is that he was unashamedly himself. He would give opinions on weddings, the best kind of candy, the purpose that coffee serves, pirates, and any other number of topics. I'm really glad that we have all of these videos of him giving interviews to people that just wanted to talk.  He was hilarious.  I've watched the video of him giving wedding advice about five years ago 100 times.  I've laughed every time, "your bride to be is going to lose her mind, your mom is going to lose her mind, etc." is some of the funniest stuff  I've ever heard. I will miss Mike Leach and his desire to never call a running play. He said every time they ran, it was an audible that the quarterback made. Fascinating. 

On Nov 6 this year was the sixth year that my brother has been gone. I haven't written anything about it because, well I don't know why.  Some part of me says that I don't want to be the guy that just always talks about his brother passing away. A few weeks ago we had a night of thanks service at our church.  It is not in my nature to ever raise my hand and say something in public. I'm not afraid to, its just not something I do a lot.  This night I felt the need to.  I talked about how we hadn't known what to do with Josh's ashes these last six years and this year we figured out that we need to bury them with my Granny because he loved her so much and it seemed right.  I'm not a person that believes closure is a thing. Meaning I don't think its as important as people think it is.  But putting his ashes seemed like the right decision because nothing else seemed right.  We had talked about just opening up the canister on the highway because Josh loved driving.  We talked about burying him under a safety corridor sign. We thought that the state troopers wouldn't look too kindly on that, but with Granny was definitely the right decision.  

You may be asking, how do these two things go together? Coach Leach was always who he was.  So was my brother.  He was opinionated and was never at a loss of  letting you know what his was.  He was hilarious and not necessarily at the proper times.  There was more than one funeral or hospital visit that some dirty looks were shot our way. Joshua never put on airs.  One of the things that I've realized that I appreciated about him was he was always himself.  Those people don't come around that often.  I feel like I'm only my true self around a very limited amount of people, but that's not the way that Joshua was.  I'm drawn to authenticity.  Everyone that I enjoy being around are people that are themselves and aren't apologetic about it.  

I'll get back to the rest of the story about church.  I told the church that I was thankful for God's sovereignty. For a long time before Josh ever got sick, I would wake up at all hours of the night and pray for him. It happened hundreds of times as I got into my later 20's and 30's  I would ask God to save my brother.  Much like earlier in my life when I would do the same thing for my Dad, and one day those prayers were answered. My Dad was saved.  I believe that every time we pray, the answer will come.  Sometimes, that answer is yes, and the harder thing to deal with, is that answer is no. That's where my thankfulness for God's sovereignty happens.  In the no.  But your brother is dead.  Yes.  But he's saved.  The prayer was answered.  Not in the way I wanted it to be, but in the way God chose to answer it.  This tension is difficult because every day I miss Josh. One of my sons will give a look or say something and I think, "man that looks or sounds like Josh".  Those times are sweet reminders of him.  I'm fully convinced that the way things happened with Josh were the way that they were supposed to go simply because at this exact moment, he is in Heaven.  I wish I was there.  That's where my heart longs to be.  

Here are some final thoughts for you if you're still reading this.  I love you.  Finding my way through this grief over the last six years has been interesting.  It's never been easy.  A lot of times I've been tempted to go inside a shell and just never come out.  That's not a good place for me to go.  The only things that I've figured out is there is a lot of suffering everywhere.  Somebody is always going through something.  I've talked to more people, more deeply over the last few years then I ever have before because of grief.  If  you need to talk to anyone, I'll talk to you. Or I know someone that you can talk to.  There have been some songs that I've listened to on repeat.  They help. Tears flow sometimes and that's good.  Here's list of three songs.  Abide- Aaron Williams, How Good is He- Vertical Worship, Promised Land- Toby Mac.  Promised Land made me bawl like a baby, but I needed it when I heard it.  I know loss.  It's real.  It hurts.  Sometimes it comes out of nowhere and not at a time that you're expecting it to.  The tension between the finite and infinite is beautiful.  I appreciate smaller things than I ever did before. Don't got through it alone.  It won't help.  It's tempting.  Don't do it.  Go to God. Then go someone that knows God.  

One that isn't about my brother (maybe)

It is no secret that I love college football. Being able to go and work the champ game is a privilege that I do not take lightly. I fully appreciate the exclusivity and the honor it is to be able to go and be a small part of it.  When I wasn't able to go last year, I put on a brave face and told myself it wasn't going to be the same anyway, so it will be ok to miss it.  I lied to myself. It got to game day and something was missing.  Getting updates from Christa was nice, but it wasn't the same.   I decided then that if I get the opportunity to go again, I would.  I also decided to approach it differently than I had in the past few years.  I think it's easy to take things for granted that you don't think you're going to lose.  I decided I wouldn't take it for granted again.  I was going to do whatever I was asked to do.  I was going to take it in more and look at things differently than I had in past years. I also decided to say things to people I wouldn't otherwise say.  

When Gina first asked us to come help with the champ game, I was pumped for the access.  That is fun don't get me wrong.  I don't take it for granted that during the most important moments of these games, I'm on the field while it's going on. The thing I didn't know is how important the other people that come help with this game would become to me.  I've become friends with people from all over the country that I otherwise would never have crossed paths with. When Gina decided to change career paths, I wasn't sure what the future would hold for Christa's and my involvement with this game.  When a change like that happens, people tend to bring in their own people.  When Katie Cavender took over for Gina, I didn't know what she would think of me.  I knew what she would think of Christa, but me not so much.  The thing that happened was Katie became like a sister to me.  It's hard to explain, but I felt like I had known her for a long time. I think the thing that I admire most about Katie is how much she cares about her people.  The kids she brings in for social content, for video, for all of the stuff that you see that isn't on ESPN, is her and her people.  Her brothers are a blast and I can tell that they love her and are fiercely loyal to her.  That stuff isn't fake.  And it came out of nowhere.  I don't believe in accidents.  I believe that God puts people in my path that He knows I need.  And vice versa. I was going to start listing people here, but thought better of it because there are a lot people and I don't want to forget anyone.  If you've been to this game to work it and we've spent anytime at all together, I want you to know that I appreciate you and am very glad that I know you.  If you're here in phoenix anytime soon, our door is open. I'll smoke some meat and we can hang out.

The other thing I love about all of this, is seeing Christa do her thing.  Her ability to organize and get people to follow her is amazing.  I think this game and the behind the scenes operation of this game is one of the things that makes her soul sing.  She juggles a thousand things and keeps a great attitude about all of it.  It's also the only time of the year that I get to be alone with her and it's a great reminder to me that there was the two of us before it was the four of us.  Don't get me wrong, I love the four of us more than anything, but I enjoy the two of us quite a bit as well.  Christa deals with brand new people at this game every year, and at the end of it, people have always become quit fond of her. I say it all the time, she's the best.  I don't tell her enough. I don't show her enough. But seemingly every new person she comes across seems to have the same reaction.  Eight years, eight different games. Eight different groups of people become very close with my wife.  It's amazing.  

As long as they keep letting me, I'm going to keep coming to this game.  Even if they take away my access, I'll keep coming.  It's become bigger than this game that I love so much. I absolutely didn't expect the people that became the thing, but they did. Hopefully, all of the ones this missed this one, will be in LA. I missed you. 

5

 The story of the two key chains pictured on my social media pages goes like this.  My brother had a key chain that I stole from him a long time ago.  Like 25 years ago.  I didn't tell him I stole it from him until many years later.  It broke at some point last year.  It shouldn't have affected me.  It affected me.  It affected me quite a bit.  There aren't many tangible things left of my brother's. This one was a direct tie to him and I.  It was a part of our story.  Quite honestly, the memories are fading a little.  The problem with Josh being gone is, he was my historian.  The stuff he remembered, is the stuff I forgot, and vice versa. Back to the key chains.  I got a package in the mail one day.  A package I wasn't expecting.  It was a key chain that says "Brothers".  My best friend Aaron sent me this key chain. I say best friend, but that doesn't explain it.  Aaron knows where all the bodies are buried. It affected me. There will never be another Joshua Tomblin.  Aaron is doing his best to make up for the brother part of my life that I am missing.  5 years ago I had no idea how much of my identity was wrapped up in being a brother.  I would like Aaron to know in this blog post that I really appreciate the kindness he showed with a simple act of thinking of me when he saw that key chain.  It's something a brother would do.  I don't remember if I said thank you when you sent it.  But I need you to know that I had this moment in mind.  You know the effect of the loss of my brother. You loved him too.  He loved you.  The memory will now forever be forged for as long as i own the key chain you sent me. I was sad when the old one broke.  I told my Mom about it and she said let me take and see if Cole can fix it.  Cole is my cousin's husband and he does great leather work. Look his facebook page up, it's Henderson Boys Creations.  He's really talented.  My Mom came back here a couple months ago and brought the repaired stolen key chain with her.  It's not in it's original form.  But it's ok.  It's repaired.  In so many ways it parallels my relationship with my brother.  So many times it was broken.  But we always came back around to being repaired.  I can't believe how many sentences I've written about a key chain.  

This is the part where I write specifically to Josh.  

I don't cry as often. But I do cry. It comes out of nowhere. A sibling story on a tv show or movie, will always cause it. I don't know if I've still ever grieved you properly.  I think about you every day. Sometimes, Caleb will make a face, and I think, man that's a Josh face.  I've figured out that I'll never replace the relationship with you. But I have decided to be more brotherly to people around me.  I say stuff to them that I never would've said before.  I know you and I know that you would probably be making fun of me a lot for some of it.  I am thinking that people need brothers more than ever.  I also think about how you would've dealt with the politics and world events of the last two years and I kind of wish that you were still here, just so I could see your head explode. I often search the recesses of my brain for memories of you.  I hate that they're memories.  I find some that I regret.  I find some that make me laugh.  I find some that are frustrating.  You were a complex human being.  I've been around a lot of  loss recently. In the past, while you were still alive, I'm not sure how affected by it I would've been. But now, it's made me think about how tough losing you at such an early age has been.  I was telling our small group a while back about how I would wake up in the middle of the night praying for you. And that it happened quite often.  I would pray that God would save you.  I also told them about praying for you to be healed.  A lot.  And it didn't happen.  But the prayers about you being saved were answered.  It's such a weird tension.  I want you to still be here, but I'm glad that you're there.  5 years flew by.  Some days, it feels like it was yesterday. I've gotten really good at making rib tips.  You would lose your mind with how good they are. I miss you Josh. So much.  The other day I was looking at my facebook memories and I saw a comment you made on a post, and I realized that it was the last one you ever made on my page.  Heartrbreaking.  But at the same time it brought a smile because it was picture of  one of the babies and you were commenting on it.  There's a lot of things that go like that when I think about you.  Broken heart, but also a smile. Mom and Dad got a new puppy.  They named him Mickey. I wonder what you would think of that name.  And I laugh.  

The part to Josh is over. 

 If you're reading this. I appreciate it.  My brother's death is the singular most difficult event I've ever been confronted with.  I don't know how I made it other than the grace of God. I eulogized him twice.  Eulogizing a 37 year old is difficult.  When that 37 year old is your only brother it really hits home how precious and fragile life is.  I am always willing to talk.  I am a member of the world's worst fraternity.  Don't pull yourself up by the bootstraps.  It's difficult.  I know.  I'm serious.  I'll talk with you.  I'll listen if that's all you need too.  I've found that sometimes I just need to say it.  Don't feel like you're alone.  I'm here.  Thank you for taking the time to read this. I've found that writing these on these days helps me to remember.  I want to remember.    

Confession Time

 I've been trying to avoid writing this one for a while now.  Too many "coincidences" have made it to where I knew that I can't go on any longer without being obedient.  I've been a Christian for a long time. I've gone to church for literally my entire life.  I know all of the right words to say.  I know how to act when the moment calls for it. I've faked my way through more Christian things than I can even count.  Our small group was meeting for the last time for the spring semester before we all went on spring break. The typical last small group meeting of the semester isn't one that is typically soul bearing or really in depth. So when this one was, it came out of nowhere.  Jason, our leader was asking about time and place in regards to spending time alone with God and praying, and reading His word. When it came time for me to talk, I hemmed and hawed my way through it as best I could.  Justifying bad habits is easy.  I'm a pro.  I'll come  back to this.  

We left a church about three years years ago.  It was seeker sensitive.  It's not necessarily a bad thing.  It is when you've been a Christian your whole life and you're just sitting back and cruising because you think that you've put your time in with all time you've given in the past.  So for the last three years we've been attending a church that isn't afraid to ask you some tough questions.  Why aren't you serving?  Why aren't you attending a small group on a regular basis?  Why aren't you listening to sermons that are expository instead of topical?  When i started answering these questions I began to realize how spiritually malnourished I was.  As big as I am physically, spiritually, I'm anorexic.  I've grown quite a bit in the last few years, but there were still some questions being asked that I wasn't answering.  

So the question about the time and place lingered and nagged and bothered me.  I had no escape.  If the question isn't being asked, I can avoid it.  When confronted with it, The Holy Spirit wouldn't go away.  I did not have a love for the Word of God.  I haven't read it consistently and thoroughly enough to let it do it's work in my life.  Of course I've read passages.  Of course I've read Romans, and Revelation, and The Psalms, and Proverbs.  I've read a lot of it.  Just not consistently.  Not thoroughly.  I started a Bible reading plan for the first time in my life about 49 days ago. I haven't done the plan every day, but the days that I missed, I've made up for it.  For the first time in my life, I've been consistent with the Word of God. Let me tell you something.  It works.  The impatience has been better.  The quickness to anger has been better.  My attitude with the world around me has been better.  The battle against besetting sin has been better.  Not perfect.  Not arrived at the destination.  Better.  

If you're my friend and you're reading this, I know you've thought about some deep things recently.  I know you've been wondering about what the missing thing is.  I know what it is.  It's God's Word.  It's where He's at.  Life is in that book. He put it there for you.  I'm not recruiting for our church.  But if you've been thinking about it.  Come with me.  The difference for me has been monumental.  I was missing so many things.  I was in the dark.  God by His grace and kindness illuminated the dark places in my life and gave me the choice to look at Him differently.  Even if it's not coming with me to my church, find a church that emphasizes the Word of God.  If you're listening to sermons every Sunday that are just some dude's opinion, you're missing it.  I was missing it.  I still miss it sometimes.  I love you.  Thanks for reading this.  

4

If you're reading this right now, I'm writing a blog post to my brother Josh that passed away four years ago (Nov 6).  I've found it to be a great way to help with my grief.  I can't tell you about anyone else's experiences in life.  Losing a brother is easily the hardest thing that's ever happened in my life.  I wouldn't wish it happening to a sworn enemy.  I wanted to give you some context.  If you're reading this, and you've lost someone significant in your life, I'm here.  It's hard.  I fight some days to not get lost in the loss of  Josh.  It shouldn't have happened.  If you want to have a private conversation about specifics, I will.  It won't be awkward on my end, I promise.  

Christa was was watching a movie with the boys a few weeks ago called Greater.  It's about an offensive lineman at the university of Arkansas named Brandon Burlsworth that was a walk on. I'm sure that you would never have watched it.  I came in about halfway through.  I kind of knew the story.  I thought it was good.  It was inspiring to see the work that Brandon put in to (spoiler alert) become an all American offensive lineman.  If you were watching it with me, you would have said, that could be you Jarod.  I'd roll my eyes and tell you to shut up. Christa would get mad at me and tell to not say shut up in front of the boys.  It would be a whole thing.    I digress.  I'm watching it and realize that he has an older brother.  In my head I think, I can handle this.  I'm fine.  Movie keeps going, I cook some ramen noodles. I start eating them.  I keep thinking, no big deal.  I'm fine. I can handle this.  And then I can't handle it.  Dude, I came apart.  

Before this moment in time, I thought I didn't have any more of these moments in me.  Not that I don't still  miss you, or don't think of you.  I just thought that I didn't have any more left.  I. Was. Wrong.  

Dude the longer this goes, the more I realize that you're gone.  I looked your contact info up in my phone the other day.  I was hoping that somehow, some old text was in there.  It wasn't.  And I was sad. With how crazy this year has been, I keep thinking about how you would be.  All the memes that you would've sent  All the crazy stuff that you would've said.  How many times the FBI would have to come out and talk to you.  It would've been great.  I keep thinking I should look your name up and see if you voted in this election.  That would be funny.  I just miss you.  It's not easier.  The tears don't come near as often, but when they do, it's a lot. It's really not lost on me that you died around election time.  It really puts a lot of things in perspective for me every four years. Nothing has impacted me thus far in my life as you not being here anymore.  

I'm not smart enough to know how eternity works.  I would hope that there's some way for you to read this.  I miss you.  More than anything, just the random call for the check in that you would do.  That's the hardest thing still.  The safety corridor check in.  The random meme from out of nowhere to let me know that you were thinking of me.  I'm glad they pop up in my memories.  It's the only reason I still have facebook.  

You wouldn't believe how much less shy I am these days.  There has been a definite shift in how I approach people since you've been gone.  I think losing you, lit something in me.  I still have a hard time not being a brother anymore.  People will tell me after they read this that I will always be brother, and  I will appreciate the sentiment, and respond nicely.  Not having you here, created a massive hole in my life, that I cannot replace.  I do have great, close friends, that substitute nicely,  but they're not you.  

I am still on a search to reconcile the loss of you in my life.  The blog posts help to a certain extent.  I just don't know if I'm going to get there on this side of Heaven.  

44

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. 

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.