"Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?"

As Lindsey and I were leaving Tybee Island this past Saturday, we made it a point to drive through historic Savannah, Georgia. We wanted to see downtown, particularly Reynolds Square, the beautiful home of a monument to John Wesley – complete with an amazing statue, some biographical information, and a brief sketch of historical significance regarding the father of Methodism.

I must confess that I was a bit choked up the whole time we were out of the car at Reynolds Square. As I first approached Wesley's statue, which boldly occupies the very center of the Square, I found myself surprisingly anxious, being both eager and hesitant. The only way I know to express the exciting yet intimidating feeling I had is to simply say that, while I wanted so desperately to see this depiction of a man upon whose shoulders I humbly stand, I felt grossly unworthy to be in the presence of even a representation of him. I felt myself to be a mere mortal before a glorious god of sorts.

[At this point, you might very well have written me off as an idolater or – God forbid! - one who esteems other men too highly. If so... well, there you go.]

To be honest, I am terribly troubled when I look at the condition of the Church today and try to find someone – anyone – who is a figure like Wesley. Whatever happened to people like him? or Thomas a' Kempis? or Athanasius? Whatever happened to people who held the attention of what seemed the whole world yet wouldn't budge an inch when Truth was at stake, not giving one rip about if others thought they were foolish, uninformed, or plain wrong? Where's the Dietrich Bonhoeffer of today?

Paula Cole, I'm with you, dear... Where have all the cowboys gone?

I tell you, though, I long so much for my precious children to know the significance of people like Wesley. While I looked on in awe, Lindsey beautifully shared with Imogene and Aidan about Wesley and his import, and I'm sure Emery was doing all he could to listen intently. For the sake of the future, we need more men like Wesley. For the sake of the Gospel, we need more cowboys.

As we returned to the car, I couldn't help but think of those who have even recently held significant public attention only to cave under the intense pressure that comes with it. I couldn't help but wonder, “Is there anyone, Lord? Is there anybody out there who can handle it? Is there not one who won't budge?”

And now, as I write this post, I recall the closing words to the immensely weighty hymn I sang to Aidan as he drifted off to sleep just a couple of hours ago... “That soul – though all hell should endeavor to shake – I'll never, no never, no never forsake!” Sure, all the forces of hell might rise up before him, but through the power of the Spirit of God, a cowboy CAN stand strong.

If you are reading this, please know that I am hungry to read your thoughts on the matter. Where have all the cowboys gone?

Sad, I Know

My confession:

I am a terrible member of the blog-o-sphere. In fact, I am so terrible that my membership status probably should have rightfully been revoked long ago. It's so bad that, since this time last year (i.e., when the family and I went to New Orleans, Lousiana), I have updated so few times that they probably even all show up on a single page. [To be totally honest, I don't really know that, I'm just assuming. I'll check once I post this post. {"post this post"? Sorry, I'm limited.}]

My excuse:

I'm busy. [lame, I know - but true]

Update:

I was wrong - but only by a month.

Here's me at the sea...

This week is spring break for the school where I teach, so the family and I are taking full advantage of my time off and are, therefore, vacationing.



After our Resurrection Sunday (i.e., Easter) morning service of worship, we hit the road to Mississippi. We stayed with Mimaw and Papaw (i.e., my mom and dad) for a couple of days - actually, until Wednesday morning. During our stay in Mississippi, we went spent an afternoon at the Museum of Natural Science and another afternoon at the Jackson Zoological Park. We also ate at several places we have been craving now for several months. Lindsey got to enjoy her Bella Basil Chicken Salad Sandwich from Broadstreet Bakery as well as her Newk's Favorite Salad from Newk's Express Cafe. I finally got to eat pizza at Sal and Mookie's in the Fondren district of Jackson - something for which I have been waiting since even before we moved to Georgia. I must confess that the pizza was incredible, while the desserts were a bit of a disappointment - at least, my Italian creme cake was [Lindsey said that the fudge cake was great.]. During this trip, we also got to visit with my Pappy and my Mammaw, as well as with Chris, Jamie, Chylen, and Grayson. Overall, our time was well spent.



On Wednesday, we hit the road around 8:00 a.m. CST and finally arrived on Tybee Island, Georgia, around 8:00 p.m. EST. I was fully certain that I would soon crash, never to awaken until well into the morning or early afternoon on Thursday. However and much to my surprise, I didn't get to bed until about 2:00 a.m. and was out of bed by 9:00 a.m. - interesting... I don't know how that happened.



Aidan and I took a mid-morning walk through the sand, and I must say that the beach here is gorgeous. Our condo is great, the food has been good, and the R and R has been wonderful. The best part of it all has been that there has been nothing that we have HAD to do. Sure, we have done stuff, but it has all been done in leisure. To be sure, I do hate the the prevailing mentality of our culture, particularly of my generation; namely, the mentality of compete freedom from responsibility, discipline, or commitment. Nevertheless, for a couple of days here and there, it sure is lovely to relax. I have had a blast this week just spending time with my family. I haven't had to work a single hour, which has been an enormous change of pace for us. Though we return to the reality of labor tomorrow evening, for now at least, we are taking it easy. Ahhh, how sweet it is.