FRENCH SILK & THE COMMITMENT INVOLVED (From the Archive)
Originally published in The Oracle’s “Notes from the Middle of Nowhere” 103: Sept. 14, 1989
My father believes in three things. He believes in the Trinity, the family, and he believes in pie.
He is not entirely a form believer in pie unless the object referred to is Tippin’s “French Silk.” It is at this point that he firmly becomes a liberal charismatic pie believer.
As this school year approached, it seemed evident that my car would be immobile come time to trek out to Oklahoma. Hence came the problem of not only transporting my own body to our alma mater, but also my dorm-room-and-a-half worth of things I can’t possibly live without. My father, being the wonderful man he is, offered two possible solutions to our predicamentL a) he could drive me here in his new, luxury, air-conditioned Cadillac (roomy, royal blue interior with power windows) and drive home; or b) I could drive the “Steele-mobile party barge,” a 1980 diesel station wagon with no air, no radio, and all working windows with the exception of the driver’s. I’ve grown to love that car.
I chose b. I wanted a car - bad.
After about a week, the SMPB was making noises that led us to believe it had a bad case of “cats,” as in “caught in the motor.” My father thought it would be best if we didn’t bring the car out. He was right.
Now, my father has driven the 800-mile Atlanta-Tulsa road fiesta enough times to land a steady job at the Arkansas Welcome Center. This doesn’t mean he enjoys it. As a matter of fact, for business purposes, he would have to drive all day (14 hours) on Sunday just to turn around and do it again at 6:00 the next morning.
Why do fathers do this? Is it stupidity? No. At least for my father, there were two reasons: a) He loves me and b) French Silk pie.
There are several ways to show affection to your son, but there is only one way to get a piece of French Silk - drive 800 miles.
My father has always done very job whole-heartedly. He trained his four sons to treat life in the same way. I’ve always related that to my relationships, my jobs, my classes…
But, I never related it to pie.
What is your French Silk? Have you gone after it or have you stood by praying someone would fetch you a piece?
This moment - right now - is a golden opportunity for everyone - and though you sit there, denying it in your head as you read - you are a part of everyone. You have dreams. You have ideas. You have desires. You have rationalized and you have check-listed everything that can possibly go wrong.
Tell your brain to shut up and listen to God.
I’ve known dozens of students with “brilliant ideas.” Yet, I can’t count how many times i’ve heard “it will never work.”
It makes you want to slap their noses off of their faces. We’ve had philosophy and doctrine belted into us so hard that it is falling out of our ears.
When it hurts to use your head, it’s time to think with your heart. That sounds corny, but most true statements do. God has placed that dream inside of you for a reason far above dismissing it due to extenuating circumstances. No dream is too big and no dream is too small. It may be becoming the next president of the university or it may just be getting that cute brunette to go out with you.
Somewhere hidden in that dream is a passion. There is a passion in doing what makes you feel complete - in doing what God has meant for you. There is a passion in French Silk pie.
Remember how you felt when you first met Christ? What happened to that feeling? It was that kind of passion that makes your heart bleed. It’s time we brought that craving back - that craving that makes you stand up and do something, which brings us to my point.
Just do it.
Don’t set your mind on the complications. They’ll come without your help. Worrying about them just them seem worse than they already are - and don’t make excuses!
Either make your dream happen or leave it alone. Excuses are like cow dung. Nobody likes it, but they step in it al the time.
I’m not giving you a license to go crazy. I don’t want the Dean of Men coming up to me next week and saying, “This guy was running round naked in the lower lot and he blamed your article.”
I’m not talking about sacrificing your school work, relationships, or your time with God. I’m talking about taking a risk. No one will make your dream happen until you do something about it yourself.
That’s not saying things will always turn out perfect. After all, on that one August evening, Tippin’s was fresh out of French Silk. My father was crushed, but our drive brought us closer.
Just do it. It will be a great ride, even though sometimes you may have to settle for Boston Creme.
Next: YOU CANNOT RELY ON JAMES DEAN AND NON-STICK SURFACES (From the Archive) Originally published in The Oracle’s “Notes from the Middle of Nowhere” 104: Sept. 21, 1989