I love you, I believe in you…you are worth it.

On Saturday night, my best friend Stuart called me to tell me the worst news I could ever imagine. The man who dubbed himself my “stunt dad” had unexpectedly died.

I am heartbroken.

I met Paul and Lynn Barclay when I became involved with Young Life as a high school student in Winston-Salem, NC. Lynn was the Area Director and Paul filled a million different roles in Young Life as well. Paul was a big and rowdy man who loved wholeheartedly and unabashedly. Their home was open to us twenty-four/seven and we took full advantage of that. Especially in the summers, most nights you could find me over at the Barclay’s hanging out with my core group of friends. Even if Paul, Lynn and their sons, John and P.J., weren’t there, we were. It was enough just to be in their home, the love was that strong.

Paul stepped into my life and stepped up for me in ways that I never knew I needed and that certainly weren’t required of him. “Stunt dad” is the best term I could ever think of because that’s exactly what he did- he stepped into the places of my life, emotionally and spiritually, that were messy and dangerous and where my own dad just wasn’t equipped to go.

{Paul and I at Stewart and Elizabeth Welch’s wedding rehearsal, 2000}

In 2000, after my parents divorced, he really stepped it up. He left me a message on the answering machine at the E-Ranch and I left it on there for months, listening to it over and over and over again. I finally wrote it down, word for word…

I was just checkin’ in on you, honey. Hope you’re doing well. You know, I love you and I believe in you and I count it a privilege to be your stunt dad. And I would kill to have a daughter like you. And it’s even cooler that out of all the women in the world, that I chose you to be my stunt daughter.

Hope you’re doing well, I love you dearly. I’m sorry you went through all that stuff yesterday. I wish I could be around…I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you, praying about you.

Guard your heart. I pray that you would continue to seek the Lord’s face. I know it’s hard to feel loved sometimes but you are and you’re a special gal.

Be strong, be courageous, you are worth it. Be good.

I’m weepy too, be quiet. You’re special, see ya…

I have never forgotten those words. They were truth, they were balm to my hurting heart. You see, I know the love of God as my father because of who Paul Barclay was in my life. And I’m not the only one. As I’ve read what folks have written on his Facebook wall, I’m realizing that I have hundreds of brothers and sisters because he was a stunt dad to so many of us. He loved us all fiercely, like one of his own. He couldn’t help it. It was just the way his heart worked.

Paul wasn’t just loving, he was funny. Really, really funny. And irreverent in the most awful ways that somehow made you love him even more. He loved music and I just learned that back in the day, he stepped in for the band Hot Chocolate to drum for their recording of “{I believe in miracles, where’d you come from} You Sexy Thing”. Crazy, right?

{Paul in the 70’s}

He gave the best hugs. The last time I saw him, we were meeting for breakfast at Bruegger’s as I passed through W-S on my back to TN. He walked in, hollered, “Oooonga!” {my high school nickname, a play on my maiden name, Unger}, wrapped me in a giant hug and kissed the top of my head.

{The Barclay family, Thanksgiving, 2008}

He adored Lynn. He always said that he married well beyond his means, that he didn’t know how he managed to get a woman like her. I learned what a healthy marriage looked like in part from being around Lynn and Paul for all those years.

 {Paul with John and P.J. at Stewart and Elizabeth’s wedding, 2000}

He loved his boys, John and P.J. He was so proud of them. All they had to do was walk into the room and Paul’s face would light up. I loved watching him being a dad and it made me feel so lucky that he included me in that.

I will miss him more than anything.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

From Paul’s Facebook wall…

“After God made you he threw out the mold. That he unleashed a man of your stature onto the world shows, to me, how wild and wonderful a God we have! Satan trembled. He still trembles, for we are the men and the women who are still in your wake. I love you, PB. You are a true saint - rough edges to be sure - but a saint nonetheless.”

“Thanks for showing us how much fun it is to love the Lord. I wonder if you are sharing some kind of farting story with the apostles right now.. perhaps you are just getting a hug from Jesus who is telling you "well done my good and faithful servant." In my selfishness I am so sorry you are not here..somehow the world is a little less funny and loving this morning.”

“I have never met someone in my life who was a better pursuer of people in an effort to love them the way Jesus might love them. You believed in me when I did not believe in myself. You challenged me to be more of the woman that God made me to be and to love others and Jesus better.”

“Pauly B, so many memories. You changed my life and I would not be who or where I am without you. You showed me what it means to be a man of God--emphasis on man--in a world where guys so often need that. Your example taught me so much.”

“Thank you, Paul, for being an early influence on our marriage. My husband often tells of how you advised him during college, “Instead of looking for Mrs. Right, focus on becoming Mr. Right.” I’m convinced that seeing your devotion to Lynn and the boys has encouraged his dedication to me and our boys. Thank you for the example you gave in the way you loved the Lord, loved your family, and loved life!”

“I remember when a bad leader "kicked a kid out of cabin time" and I walked into Paul sharing the Gospel with him out in the lobby of the cabin. Thank the Lord for Paul Barclay.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

A service for Paul will be held Thursday, July 19 at 3 p.m. at First Presbyterian Church in Winston-Salem, NC with a reception following. In lieu of flowers, the family has requested for donations to be made to Young Life.

By Internet:

Step 1: Click on this link for Young Life Tar Heel Region Giving

Step 2: Fill in your Donor Information

Step 3: In the "Gift Designation" section, select Campership

Step 4: Click the box "This gift is in honor or memory of someone special." A box will pop up for you to insert "Paul Barclay" in the box.

By Phone:

877-438-9572

Step 1: For the TarHeel Region (AF32)

Step 2: For Campership

Step 3: In Memory of Paul Barclay

By Mail:

Young Life Tar Heel Region

1008 Brookstown Ave Suite D3

Winston-Salem, NC 27101

Truly, a scanner is a glorious thing.

Perhaps it’s that I’m in complete and utter denial that there are over 4,000 pictures from the Petree Family Beach Trip for me to pore through, select and edit. Perhaps it’s that there is nothing all that noteworthy happening in my life. Perhaps it’s because I am completely uninspired when it comes to the written word these days.

For whatever reason, you’re getting more scanned pictures. Shoot, I might even make it this week’s theme! Let’s start the embarassment, shall we? I give you, fashion choices of Leslie in the late 1990’s…

This was taken at my sixteenth birthday party on our back deck. Oh, how cute, a party with my friends, how very sixteen of me. No, what you can’t see is that I actually had an open house for my party to which I invited not only my friends but other adults, their children and my entire extended family.

Not so much rowdy as dork.

I chose my ensemble carefully for this big day. Mom actually let me splurge and we ventured into The Limited. Yes, those are cream colored jeans. Yes, that is a ruffled blouse. And yes, that is a cream embroidered vest. And yes, my hair was that big naturally.

I adored this baby doll dress. Never mind that it made me look five months pregnant. Also, I’m pretty sure that Wake Forest Graduation took place before Memorial Day. Why someone didn’t rip those white hose and shoes off of me, I’ll never know.

Senior year of high school, getting ready to go to The Snowball which was an exclusive dance, invitation only. I paid someone to make my hair look like that. Camille? Lovely, elegant, classic. Me? Something akin to Mary Tyler Moore.

Nesting in my brand new freshman dorm room in Hinton-James at UNC-Chapel Hill. Is it possible for my shorts to sit any higher on my body?

Ah, yes. The year of the overalls. Also the year of “Why don’t I just make my hair look like an afro cowlick hot mess?” and apparently the season of velour amongst the cousins. I’m going to make a pretty good guess that this was also before my dear friend Sarah Ferg taught me how to tweeze my eyebrows.

Again, the overalls. Again, the hot mess of a hairstyle.

Pictures at Windy Gap before heading off to see Sarah Ferg make her Asheville debutante debut. Ok, so this isn’t terrible. I’ve managed to tame the hair and while I scored the dress on sale at Ross {or TJ Maxx, not sure}, I neglected to realize that it was a.) about four inches too short for a formal event and b.) eerily mimicking my beloved overalls.

Tomorrow? I bust out the high school yearbooks…

Sweet mercy, I’d have loved him even then.

He was playing a guitar. He was wearing cowboy boots. Do you really need more than that?

Two generation of Petrees {first Jason’s dad, then his sister and then Jason} participated in The West Texas Farm Bureau Beauty/Talent Contest. If I posted the pictures of my sister-in-law, I would never get to see my niece and nephew again. So instead, I give you my husband, the cowboy who took me away.

So earnest.

So oblivious to the beauty contestants beside him.

So 1994 when I was a sophomore in high school and a sucker for guitar playing blondes.

I always knew God was looking out for me.

“Because, you know, it IS all about liberty…”

So said my Aunt Joann in a voice mail last week as we planned our meal for July 4th. Her other plans of remembering soldiers by name or a moment of silence, and having an Uncle Sam and Miss Liberty weren't realized. However, I think her patriotic yearnings were satisfied when our crazy family burst into song as we gathered for the blessing. Think "My Country Tis of Thee", "America the Beautiful", "Yankee Doodle", "You're a Grand Old Flag"....you get the picture.

After dinner, our family learned the hard way that riding bikes at dusk to see fireworks only guarantees that you will be riding back in pitch black darkness.

The plan was pure Americana, so picturesque. We would all hop on our beach cruisers (the most popular mode of transportation here on the island) and stake out a beach spot close to where the fireworks were being launched. Then, in Cruise family togetherness, we could ooh and aah over the stunning display. Yup. Right. Except that we all left at different times and no one knew where the others were. Two were on the beach, four were ahead on the path before they realized they were missing the rest of the group, and the rest of the group was...well, doing as well as could be expected of a caravan of ten riders. The Tour de France we were not.

Fireworks over, we all realized that it was now pitch black and the only person smart enough to bring a large flashlight was 7 year old Madison. (Actually, Allie stole it from Madison's room and Madison was smart enough to ask for it back.) That meant that we were now a literal, living example of the blind leading the blind. I'll leave the rest of it to your imagination but, for a bit of fodder, Aunt Betsy did go over her handlebars at one point.

Also, I learned that riding a bike with a margarita in one hand only guarantees that you will have margarita all over you by the time you reach your destination.

{Originally posted on July 5, 2005. But I swear, thinking of that night still makes me weep with laughter. Happy 4th of July! May your hotdog be cooked just right, your fireworks colorful and loud and your libations cold and sweet…}

Is “blogiversary” a word?

On July 3, 2005, I started this blog with this post…

Lessons from Oz

"Yes, Dorothy, what have you learned?"

"Well, I guess I've learned that if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I shouldn't go looking any further than my own backyard. Because if it's not there, I never really lost it to begin with...there's no place like home!"

Vacation is snuggling on a couch in Kiawah Island, South Carolina with my 4 and 7 year old cousins to watch "The Wizard of Oz." There is nothing else to do, no other pressing agenda than to settle in with these sweet girls (after they have fought over who sits where, of course) and watch our "most fav-oh-wit movie evah."

It really is my most favorite movie, has been ever since I was captured by the color, spectacle and wonder of Oz. I wanted to be Dorothy on a grand journey with faithful friends and a cute dog. Well, maybe I just wanted that fabulous dress and ruby slippers. My mom made that possible on Halloween when I was 8 years old. The dress was perfect, just like Judy Garland's, with a white blouse and the trademark blue gingham pinafore. And thanks to two bottles of Wet and Wild nailpolish, I had my ruby slippers.

Now it is my turn to watch it through a child's eyes. The girls narrate the entire viewing and punctuate it with question after question. Madison and I discuss the witch and the flying monkeys and agree that it is violently unfair when they take Toto away. After I explain (again) why the Winkie soldiers are chasing Dorothy, Abby nestles into the crook of my arm and murmurs, "I love my Leslie." Does it get better than that?

I realize that my 8 year old wish has come true. I am in the middle of a grand journey. Many faithful friends accompany me. I don't have the cute dog yet, but as the Wicked Witch says, "All in good time, my pretty, all in good time!"

Four years. I don’t remember how I found out what a blog was or even how I knew to set one up on blogspot. But one summer evening, while on The Cruise Family Beach Trip, I did. And honestly? I don’t think I’ve ever been the same.

I’ve always loved writing. The fifteen journals spanning from age ten to the present testify to that. A small box of my elementary and middle school writing projects give voice to my love of words. The fact that I would rather bury my nose in a well written novel than anything else {have I mentioned that you have to read Love Walked In?} is a testament to what the written word does for me. Written words are an outlet, a catharsis, page upon page of my imagination, emotions and musings. Once they are on a page they are mine but even better, I can share them if I want.

I love this blog. As in I’m getting teary-eyed even as I type thinking about how this, my little piece of the internet, has been such an encouragement and accountability for me over the last four years. It’s taught me to choose my words carefully. I’ve learned how to use my words to recreate the image or experience I want to keep forever. Best of all for this social southern drama queen, it has connected me to you.

From North Carolina to Texas and then back again to Tennessee. And allllllll the places in-between where I have discovered new friends who have graciously shared their words with me as well. From a single woman without a cute dog to a married woman with a freckle-faced monster. Thanks for listening to the ramblings of this southern drama queen…

Happy Blogiversary, dear diary!

Sneak Peek

Because with four professional cameras and already over 1,500 pictures taken between them, I should probably start somewhere…

{Yes, that’s my incredibly buff sister-in-law and no, I’m not jealous at all, why do you ask?}

We interrupt this beach vacation for some sassiness

One of my dear friends back in Abilene, Texas, Tiffany, is seriously talented when it comes to fun and sassy things for your home. Tiffany’s creative blog has been incognito for a while but it looks like she’s diving head first into the crafty waters these days and, trust me, you want in.

Among her wares are some darling name signs, jewelry and absolutely darling appliquéd tees for kids and adults. But my favorite? These lap desks…

I think we all know a kiddo or two in our life who would benefit from one of these.

Tiffany’s got a couple of giveaways going on over at her creative blog. You can also get a closer look at thing over in her etsy shop. Go take a peek!