Merry Christmas from us!

We're not the types to send out cheesy Christmas cards with our family picture on them but here you go anyway. Merry Christmas!

Three Couches, One With Christ (Part 1)

The first couch was in my friend’s apartment in Nashville in 1998. I had moved there after I finished my undergraduate degree, but now after only a month I sat on the couch with a girl that I had been seeing before I left Memphis. I’m not sure what sort of reaction she expected when she told me the news, but I am sure that she did not expect the first words out of my mouth to be, “abortion is not an option.” It wasn’t the most sensitive and reassuring thing to say and I’m sure it didn’t do anything to instill in her a sense of comfort. She was pregnant and she had driven four hours to tell me in person the news, and I just sat there issuing moral decrees surrounding the results of my own failure. I immediately packed my things, threw them in the back of the truck and drove with her back to Memphis.

The next couch was in a coffee bar near the University of Memphis in 2002. I had just been introduced to a very pretty young lady named Kathryn Wray. Kathryn and I shared a few mutual friends and it just so happened that those mutual friends drug us both out on a Saturday night to hear some guy with a guitar that was apparently playing up on the stage. I wasn’t paying any attention to him. My attention was focused on Kathryn. She was sweet, attractive, easy to talk too, and she demonstrated a level of devotion to the Lord that was instantly noticeable. On our first date we just talked the whole time. By our second date, I was sure that she was the woman I wanted to marry.

The third couch was in a waiting room at the Baptist Memorial Hospital for Women in 2004. This time I was seated on the couch between my wife, Kathryn, and my dad, Steve. We were waiting for the nurse to come out and tell us that my mother was out of surgery and in the recovery room. My mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer and was in surgery undergoing a radical mastectomy. More than three months of chemotherapy was to follow. Despite the trauma of having this procedure and the horrible thought of facing nearly constant sickness and nausea from the chemo, my mom was in good spirits. She was ready to have the cancer removed from her body.

Exams!!!