Daddy’s Hands
As Father’s Day approaches, I have found myself thinking a lot about my daddy. Oh, how I wish he were here.
As Father’s Day approaches, I have found myself thinking a lot about my daddy. Oh, how I wish he were here.
I’ve had people ask me why I‘m so opposed to the Marvin Nichols Reservoir. I’ll try to explain it as best as I can. In the early 1900’s my great grandfather bought a farm about two miles as the crow flies from Old Hagansport. On this farm he raised corn, cotton, and kids. Six in all. By all accounts he was a good neighbor and generally well thought of. My grandfather was the oldest of his sons, and one spring day they were clearing stumps with dynamite in order to increase the plowable acres. My great grandfather lit a dry fuse and it raced to the dynamite faster than he could race away from it.
If you turn to God and call upon His name every morning before your feet touches the floor, He is already present in your life. You have but to acknowledge that He is to begin to feel his presence in your day.
I know, that title probably makes you wonder where this column will go. Well, here it is.
Gov. Greg Abbott has directed the Texas Education Agency to ensure school facilities are made safer in the wake of the killing of 19 children and two teachers at Robb Elementary in Uvalde.
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