I blame Baptist preachers. Completely. Every time. I’m mad at them, too. The next time I hear a Baptist preach on the “purpose filled life,” I’m going to kick his offering collection plates over,…in the middle of his service,…on purpose. Those dam sermons are the cause of my unquenchable bloodlust for adventure. They are the reason I believe a safe life is not really worth living. I hate it. If you didn’t know – I really would rather be safe.
Preachers have a bad reputation, but the good ones (there are a few of them) are worth listening to – and my daddy is one of them.
Thanks to him and a couple other down to earth, honest to God, real men and women of God who believe in and practice what they preach (like I said, there are a few), I have lived a good and adventurous life. (Wait! Don’t get the wrong impression of me – I’m still a big chicken, but I am now a big chicken with some courage.) I have been to some amazing places, have met amazing people, and have seen the most AMAZING views. I’ve learned to put others first, treasure life, and nourish my soul – simple honest to chicken soup on a sick day type of life lessons. As a result, I’ve been to the top of that mountain, skinny dipped in that river, and yes, I do – I have the t-shirt to prove it.
I can blame them, but I’m glad I can blame them; it just means they did good to me. They brought a lot of good into my life. It’s because of them I’ve decided to leave my job in search of a more purpose filled life. This wasn’t easy for me to do, but then it’s probably one way I know it is the right thing to do, after all, sometimes goodbye is a good thing.