A phone-call to a friend

  I called my dad on my break from work yesterday. I thought I was being foolish, because my dad can get into a serious “this is Randall Baker” business mood, that will make any sort of conversation not about recycling impossible. However, he was very attentive to me and soft-hearted, and it was a wonderful break in my Brett’s work day. I love my dad. We talked for about twenty minutes, I told him a bit about my world and we planned to go hike together on the Appalacian Trail this summer.

For those of you who don’t know, my dad moved my entire family from our home in Philadelphia to Winston-Salem, NC  last year. He did this, because he wanted to take a risk and buy out an old company and jump into the recycling business, a thing he knew virtually nothing about. So, he uproted us from our church of twenty years and my childhood home,and jumped out on a limb, because that’s what he felt the Lord was having him do.

Now that dream has become a shaky-reality.

Even now, my parents still live in a small apartment and everyday our worried how Abbey Green will fare. My dad runs the whole place, hires people, loves on people, manages people, leads people and sometimes much to his heartache, fires people. Even though, I literally have no desire to go out and see his “worksight” that just looks more like piles of trash, trailors and blue-collar workers, I am so proud of him for his leadership, dreams and risks. He is pouring his whole self into this project, his money, his livelihood, his friends, countless late hours and some sleepless nights.

 I’m even more proud of my mother who stands besides him and supports him step for step, even though she is all alone in a new land with no friends and not even a  house to clean. But throughout my life, the one thing my mother does more than go out to eat and take care of her kids, is pray. My mom prays more than anyone I know, and I know when she is not on retail wesbites looking for a house, she prays and prays for my dad’s dream. Most likely, it’ll be an equal combination of her intercession and my dad’s work that gives Abbey Green it’s wings.

I can’t say I’m upset that I don’t live with my parents and brother in that small apartment. However, I am so proud of all three of them from afar for living a life of risk and faith.

And isn’t the true test of being a good parent, when your kids calls you even after she no longer need you for money, food, education or shelter.

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