I got some awesome suggestions from some of you the other day when I asked about blog topics. The one I am doing today was given to me by CopMama. I simply adore this lady( and not because she carries a firearm and probably knows how to hip toss me and zip tie my hands in 6 seconds flat) she is so sweet and funny, you really got to check her out.
She wanted to hear more about me growing up. Frankly the thought of this post is a little unsettling because I don’t really like to talk about me much. I find talking about my children and their antics a lot more fun than little ole me. The topic was brought up because we obviously share a love of firearms, holsters and the ability of SWAT teams to bust up in someone’s house.
The two defining moments of growing up to be me where spent in the hallways of church and in the back of a patrol car.
Back of a patrol car….Wha??? you say…
My dad was a Texas Highway Patrolman and BOY…was he cool. And tough. And he reeked Texan. I was so incredibly proud of him and so incredibly mortified to ride in the patrol car.
I don’t want to ride in the back. Someone might see me and think I did something wrong…
Yeah, because the THP regularly arrests small children.
Well…that and the siren and lights are in the front of the car…and the cool scanner….
Then one day my dad got a call. It didn’t come over the scanner. He got a calling to leave the THP and join a bigger force. Both he and my mom (my mom and him…him and her….whatever) decided to go to Seminary. There were quite a few jobs that he did between the two and since, but nothing made his back straighter than serving The Lord. They went on mission trips to other countries and sometimes…my sister and I got to go along. My favorite trip was to Belize. I was able to see actual people that lived in tiny little huts and to see their eyes shine with “Faith” even though I had no idea what they were saying. We brought them the Fruit of the Spirit and they served us rat and rice for dinner. Listerine doesn’t get rat out of the mouth and there is no amount of mental scrubbing either…
As a teenager…a very defiant teenager…there was almost no hope for getting away with anything (although I sure didn’t know that then) what having the eyes of The Law didn’t teach them about deliquency…the eyes of The Lord sure did.
33 years have passed and dad is now hitting balls on the green enjoying a well deserved retirement…mom is leading Women’s Ministry work and me….I love The Lord and I love me some firearms…with scopes and lights.
Bibles and Bullets.
That’s how I grew up to be me.
Categories: growing up