Growing Up with Prayer, Love, and the Red Dirt Road
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I slowly raised my hand when the visiting pastor asked who wants change in their life. He looked at me and told me, "I have nothing for you, you need to write, just write. Your story needs to be heard." We were barely hitting top speed, flying down the hill, and the sound that blasted through the trees and above the pebbles scared us all. It was the blast of a horn from a log truck. This bellowing booming sound meant get out of the way! Our laughter turned into fear as we all turned back to see a large empty log truck barreling at us. Growing up in the heart of the deep East Texas woods with t...
I slowly raised my hand when the visiting pastor asked who wants change in their life. He looked at me and told me, "I have nothing for you, you need to write, just write. Your story needs to be heard." We were barely hitting top speed, flying down the hill, and the sound that blasted through the trees and above the pebbles scared us all. It was the blast of a horn from a log truck. This bellowing booming sound meant get out of the way! Our laughter turned into fear as we all turned back to see a large empty log truck barreling at us. Growing up in the heart of the deep East Texas woods with three channels on TV, we could not help but take our adventures outside. These stories will take you down the red dirt road we called home. We raced log trucks in a makeshift buggy, nearly burnt down Granny's house, danced in her shoes, created clubhouses out of anything not tied down, plus so many more. Looking back at these adventures, we laugh and wonder how we made it without broken bones or, worse, mishaps. We made it with prayer and a family's love for God and us. With each adventure you read, you will find a lesson learned I discovered along the way forty plus years later as I have grown into my faith. It's been there all along, all I needed was to slow down and be still.
