A Navy Family

I wish I could find some more pictures of my family in the Navy, but here are a few of them....

 Uncle Cliff. I was closest to him, spent several summers with him and Martha in late 70's. He was in the Battle of Leyte Gulf. He was on the USS Princeton (CVL 23) . She was hit by a Jap 500lb bomb on the morning of October 24, 1944. Fires spread and eventually a huge explosion rocked the ship, most likely from the bomb arsenal. This not only damaged the Princeton, but also the USS Birmingham that had come along side for Damage Control operations. Around 3:30, the order was given to abandon ship. Uncle Cliff went over the side and landed flatfooted on a gun turret. He broke both of his feet. He was in the water for almost 48 hours, and at one point was buzzed by a Jap fighter, but he didn't fire on them. Cliff told me he figured the pilot didn't have any ammo, and was probably a Kamikaze.Grandma was told he was "Missing at sea" and didn't hear that he was alive for weeks, until he was back at Pearl in a Navvy hospital. He was a great man and I reveled in his stories. He is an America hero.

USS Princeton (CVL 23) shortly after being hit by a Japanese bomb during the Battle of Leyte Gulf. 10/24/1944

 Uncle Joe. I never met Uncle Joe. Cliff told me many stories about Joe and his WWII stories, but I can only remember bits and pieces. Wish I knew more.

Uncle Al. Again, I wish I knew some stories to tell. But, brother, check out that dog dish! I've never seen one that far back on someone's head!  And the Clarke Gable mustache. What a looker! No wonder he won Aunt Marie!

and, then is my Dad. Check out the wings on his hat. You can tell he was an airman!

And lastly, me! Man, that's a good looking sailor! Squ...aa...ared Away and Outstanding!

More Pictures of Dad and me

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 Me looking spiffy on 8/27/1973 in my bell bottom pants and fancy white belt. The insert is my dad in 1941 so four or near five years old.

Here is Luke at about the same age

Home coming from the Navy. After I got my crow, so this would be 1987ish. My nephew Eric is holding the picture in the foreground.

William Donald Leigh: 1937-2012

Here are a few of the pictures I swiped from momma's house. More to come as I have time to scan them.

Dad at 12 years old, 1949

 In 8th grade

 1955, obviously, in the Navy. Probably still at Jacksonville Naval Station.

 1955 again. With Grandma, right before he left for San Francisco.

 1976, playing baseball with me in the backyard. Del Ray Court.

Mom and Dad in June, 1977. On our Mountain vacation. First trip I ever took that wasn't to Orlando.

 Christmas Day, 1981

3 generation picture with Luke. 1996

Me and my Dad

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This is my Dad and me circa 1990. I just got out of the Navy. I can tell b/c I grew a beard right after I got out.

My Dad; My Hero

I grew up listening to Waylon and Willie croon on about their heroes being old, worn-out cowboys. Heroes are those rare people that make an indelible impact on our lives, so forcefully that they cause not only our admiration, but often our emulation. Well, while I like the song, I never wanted to be a cowboy.  There was, however, someone that I tried to pattern my life after: my real life hero, my dad. Yeah, I know that it sounds blasé, but it really is true. I love Bluegrass music, Merle Haggard, and football because he did. I joined the Navy because he had been a sailor. I worked as an engineer because he did. I tried to smoke Winston cigarettes because that was his brand, even though the “cool” people smoked Marlboro. (Luckily that was a short lived attempt. I never could get used to the smell.)

His life was hard, and because of that he was a hard man. His philosophy of life was simple: work hard and take care of your little acre. In other words, take care of you and yours, leave everyone else to theirs. Not an earth shattering revelation or groundbreaking epistemology of course, but it was his. He grew up very poor in the mountains of East Kentucky and left school in the eighth grade to help support the family. At nineteen he joined the Navy and spent his time in Asia touring on the USS Oriskany CV34 (The Mighty “O”) on two WestPac’s . He got a giant cobra tattoo in Hong Kong, and his True Love knuckles in the Philippians. (Did I mention my tattoo???  When I left for Boot Camp, my dad didn’t warn me about loose women or crotchety old CC’s, but he did tell me that if I got a tattoo to make sure a short sleeved shirt covered it up. Smart man and advice I’m glad I heeded. Current occupation and all.) He worked at NASA building platforms for the Saturn program, and married my mom making a buck an hour. Four kids and a move to Georgia later, he was in management at Sheet Metal Engineers. Things were going well when he lost two children in separate car crashes about five years apart. Life was never really the same.

On August 8 he lost his final battle, a bout with Pulmonary Alveolar Proteinosis, of all things. PAP is a very rare (about 500 cases per year worldwide) lung disorder that is an autoimmune disease; the body cranks up the production of the surfactant protein and fills the air sacks in the lungs with fluid. Throughout his life he taught me things, and I guess that makes him my hero still. Even though he had become dependent on me in his last years, he will always be the one man that I will think about and wonder what he would have done in a given situation.

I will miss him terribly, and can only hope that I can measure up to the high benchmark he set for me. My hero is not a cowboy. He is a sheet metal worker. Not a barroom brawler, but a hard worker. Not a whoremonger, but a devoted husband. Not a modern-day drifter, but a dedicated family man. Not a high rider, but my dad.

For My Children

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LEARNING THE BICYCLE
(for Heather)

The older children pedal past
Stable as little gyros, spinning hard
To supper, bath, and bed, until at last
We also quit, silent and tired
Beside the darkening yard where trees
Now shadow up instead of down.
Their predictable lengths can only tease
Her as, head lowered, she walks her bike alone
Somewhere between her wanting to ride
And her certainty she will always fall.

Tomorrow, though I will run behind,
Arms out to catch her, she’ll tilt and balance wide
Of my reach, till distance makes her small,
Smaller, beyond the place I stop and know
That to teach her I had to follow
And when she learned I had to let her go.

 
Charles R. Swindoll, The Grace Awakening

Thanks Living

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So it's Thanksgiving Day, and our thoughts turn toward a list of things we are "thankful" for. I have such a list. Do you?
1) I have a “know-so-salvation.”
2) I have a wonderful wife and a healthy family.
3) I have the great joy of pastoring at a faithful church.
4) I have a great God and Savior.

On and on it could go...friends, shelter, cars, country, reaching self-actualization (OK. That one was to see if you're paying attention :)

Let me encourage you not to allow this Thanksgiving to come and go without taking inventory of your blessings.

However, I do not want us to be thankful for these things just because it is November. Biblical gratitude isn't something that should pass from our minds with the passing of a season. Biblical gratitude is an attitude of the heart; a God-centered response to whatever circumstances comes our way—each moment of each day of each year.

I believe that is what the Psalmist was thinking when he wrote “I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth.” (Psalm 34:1) I couldn’t help but think about that little phrase, “At All Times!” What a thought. It is more than just an admonition; it is a command to be thankful! Thanksgiving may be only one day a year on the world’s calendar, but for Believers, thanksgiving is to become "thanks-living."

If you want a great study, trace the words “thanks” or “thanksgiving” through Paul’s epistles and see how much gratitude is part of what it means to be a Christian. You see, when thanksgiving becomes a way of life, it is the first thing that comes out of our mouths, and we can begin to thank God in any circumstance. How you ask? It’s simple really; God will never allow anything to happen to you that is outside of His perfect will. That’s why Jesus taught us to pray, “Your will be done” (Matthew 6:10). Once we know that God’s plan and purpose for our lives is perfect, that He makes no mistakes, we will say, “Thank You” for what ever comes our way, and we will practice Thanks Living.



May you, your family, and friends enjoy a blessed Thanksgiving season...all year!

Luke The Evangelist

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Ask the average Christian to name THE evangelist, and they will most likely say Billy Graham. According to denomination, historical knowledge, cultural setting, or theological persuasion, they might say Joel Osteen, Benny Hinn, C.H. Spurgeon, or D.L. Moody. But…ask any seminary student the name of the Evangelists and you’ll surely get Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John as your answer. The original Evangelists, usually with a capital E, are the four Gospel writers. The word Evangel is old English for the Gospel of Christianity, hence the Evangelists are those who wrote that Gospel.

With the case of Luke, the book and name hold special affections for me. First of all, Luke’s telling of the Lord’s story is the first of my memories of the Christian faith. It would be most of ours if we were to think hard on it. My earliest memories are of my sisters teaching me to sing Away In A Manger. Naturally, that whole song is a culmination of the story in Luke 2. Secondly, it was the first Gospel I read in its entirety, as a twelve year old boy. This was not long after I saw Star Wars’ second installment, The Empire Strikes Back, and I thought, “Hey. Luke is in the Bible. Luke is in Star Wars.” The profundity of that thought does not escape me. Thus started my love affair with Luke.

The third reason would be the fact that my son is named Luke. (Hmm. Wonder why?) To me, the name Luke represents the personification of manhood, machismo and the essence of coolness. My Luke was named, by-the-way, more in reference to Cool Hand Luke, than the Luke of the Bible or Luke Skywalker. (Although there was certainly a strong influence from the Evangel and the Jedi.)

My son Luke was the most amazing kid, and is now the most amazing young man. Coming from the bias of all parents, he is the world’s greatest teenager. He is funny, witty, charming, a bit of a Casanova-ladies-man, and, naturally, one of the “popular kids” in High School.

But I believe it was an act of Divine providence that he shares the name of one of the Evangelist. Luke’s heart is that of an evangelist, and his spiritual giftedness is leading people to the Lord. Time after time, from a three year old to a high school freshman, he has come to his dad and told me about his “friend” at school that he has invited to church (most everyone he meets is a friend, hence the quotation marks. He, like Will Rogers, never met a stranger.) Said friend needs a ride, or his/her parents won’t let them come, or lo and behold, there they are on a Wednesday night or Sunday morning looking for their “friend” Luke who invited them. Sometimes they come looking for a meal, others for game time (an AWANA thing,) or occasionally just looking for something to do. But they all come looking for what people need most…someone to care enough to reach out, to be a friend, to say with the simplest of invitations, “I care about you. You are important to me”

As I write this, my eyes misting up with a sanctified pride, I can’t help but wonder…Church; if we were more Lukish, more Markish, more Matthewish, more Johnish, how many more people would come to church and feel like they are important to God, because they were important to His people? I can assure you, there wouldn’t be enough room to hold them.

Well, food for thought I guess.

And to my Boy I say: “Keep ‘em coming, son. There is room at the cross for them all!”

North Central High School Homecoming 2010

This video is of North Central high school's homecoming game, the Band is performing Victory March after NC scored a td.

Yes, I am aware that is the Notre Dame fight song. It also happens to be North Central's. and Marshall County's. And Centenial High School's as well. I'm wellllllllllll over it by now!

Quick Updates

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So when did my beloved Bulldogs become Thug U? Eight players arrested, THIS YEAR!


The Dawgs' fanbase is ranked 4th...Most Obnoxious! haha


Biblical Turbulence is coming along slowly. Patience IS a virtue, you know. Plus, I told you, good Bible study cannot be rushed.



Luke is playing in the Marching Band. That's my boy, out there!

The one in the middle.




With the trumpet.

And saxophone.



Look how "Versatile! " he is.

Look for an update from Fat Pastor soon.



Worked with a few folks writing the By Laws for a newly formed Band Booster Club at North Central High School. Thanks to Ed Stetzer for teaching that component of Urban Evangelization at Southern.





And I begin Doctoral studies at Luther Rice next week.



Other than that....life has been kinda slow.

Back To School With The Leigh's

Well, I suppose it is official now. I have been accepted into the Doctoral program at Luther Rice Seminary. Classes start September 7th. This is something I have wanted to pursue for some time now, and so I am excited to get started. Patty starts her new job on Monday. She has waited for a long time to have her own library, and the folks at Baron DeKalb Elementary are lucky to have her. Luke starts band camp Monday as well. He has taken to the trumpet like a fish to water, I just hope his sax doesn't suffer from the new attention. I think he will be a sax player in the band, with a minor part with the trumpet. We'll see. Stevie starts back to college on the 23rd. As far as I know, Shea has already started back at ASU.


So we are a schooled up family. Yes, schooled, not screwed! Pray for us as our endeavors take us on more journeys for Jesus.

Crazy Train, part deux

So surely the Preacher is crazy to post the words to an Ozzy Ozbourne song. Right? Well, there is a back story.

Family is a precious commodity, and one I cherish. But, like many folks, my family comes with ...certain...certain...challenges.?.  So when I'm on the phone with said family, Patty is always just in ear shot saying in a sing-song voice "Crazy Train!"

Of course, to know Patty is to know that the only time she has heard anything remotely Ozzy Ozbourne would be when Chipper Jones is coming to bat. But, after a long and disturbing phone call with...*sigh* ....  (dramatic pause)...*sigh*... family, and hearing "Crazy Train" sing-songed over and over, I couldn't shake the song from my (distant) past out of my head. So, I share with the world--Ozzy.......


Inheriting troubles, I'm mentally numb


Crazy, I just cannot bare


I'm living with something that just isn't fair

Mental wounds not healing


Who and what's to blame


I'm going off the rails on a crazy train