Friday, November 6, 2009


Janet is still in bed and I have been spending a little time weeding out some of the less than interesting links on the blog. I am not quite sure what brought this to mind but trying to figure out how and why the mind works the way it does is an interesting pursuit for the less than well educated.

Growing up in Burkburnett I attended the First Baptist Church. I do not know how other denominations select their pastors but the Southern Baptist invite several applicants to conduct services and then the deacons select the one they feel is most fitting for the church.

I remember one such event. There were probably three or four applicants. My father was quite taken by one in particular. However, the applicant that he preferred was rejected. My father was more than disgusted, not that he was rejected but because of the reason he was rejected.

I do not remember the man but he apparently had very large protruding ears. The feedback the deacons were getting from the ladies of the church was that they could not possibly enjoy sitting through a sermon staring at those ears. Apparently they would fail to receive the Word of God if someone with large ears delivered it. Interesting.

Still trying to figure out what brought that to mind. It is simply an interesting occurrence to a person that has spent the majority of his life attempting to prove that the book is not the cover.

I also find it interesting that the older I get the more intelligent my father with his third grade schooling becomes. He may not have been educated but he had a God given intelligence that many fail to exercise. I just wish I would act on everything he has taught me like, stay with your roots, boy. God put you there for a reason.


  1. The story about the (non) selection of the minister would be quite comical if not so pathetic. I'm quite sure those kind of "roots" are not the ones your Dad would have wanted you to stay tied to!

    And btw, how OLD do I have to be for my daughters to start thinking I am smart??

  2. I realized there was a possibility at forty. Your daughters might be smarter than I was.

  3. I'm sorry my Dad was eighty at the time. No, it didn't take that long. I was well aware of it half way through my first marriage.