About 8 years ago, I picked up my dad's old pipe and packed it full of some Half and Half pipe tobacco, got a an ole Bic lighter and fired up my first bowl. I was sitting on top of my porch roof in Seminary. It was a cold night, but I didn't care. I had had just about enough stress for the week, and just thought a little nostalgia would ease the moment. Oddly enough. It did. Since then, I am the most infrequent smoker known to man. I literally by pipe tobacco and forget where I put when I get home. So, if you think I am an addict or I have a smoking problem, I would gladly dismiss your accusations. But, I will admit this. I know exactly why my dad would pack a bowl, retreat to the back porch, pet a partially retarded golden retriever, and pensively look off to a lightly traveled dirt road. I never saw him smoke out of nervousness, even though I am sure he did, ...the pipe seemed to be a 7-12 minute pause in life...a time of reflection, gathering of thoughts,...making deci...
Influencing Hearts and Minds to Share a Passion for Better Speaking, Teaching, and Preaching