The Hale's Journey Part Four - Finding a Wife and Settling Down

College GRADUATE Clint, cheerfully accepting his double degree in Thermonuclear Physics and The History of Rock and Roll Music. (He accidentally burned off his mustache in Thermo lab - note also the mysterious glow radiating from his face).

After all of the turmoil surrounding my parent’s divorce, I stopped speaking with my mother. I absolutely cut her off from my life. The only times I saw her over the next four years were a couple of times that I just could not avoid her, such as my brother’s college graduation. I think I spoke to her a total of three times during those four years and the conversations were limited to me giving grunts and monosyllabic replies. I was so angry with her that I did not even invite her to my wedding – though she was the person who introduced me to my wife.

I should point out that I didn’t only react that way because I was angry. I thought I was doing the right thing, theologically. I was convinced that she had wronged my father, and as the “guilty” party I was not to even eat with her. I had scriptures to back me up (too bad I didn’t understand them properly…) and animosity galore.

But the other parts of my life were coming into alignment. For mom had introduced me to a very serious Christian. Debbie never missed a church service. She even used a dual King James Version/New International Version bible. I think she preferred the KJV. In Church of Christ circles, that meant that she was “conservative” which was code-name for “reliable and devoted to God.” Personally, I said I preferred the New American Standard Version, but that was mostly because my dad preferred that one.

So I was 23 years old, dating a 20 year old woman who was committed to God and the “one true church” (which is what Church of Christ folks are very sure about – THEY, and they alone are the only ones going to heaven). I knew I had a keeper. At the same time, I spent quite a large amount of quality time with my dad. I treasure that next year as one of the most blessed years of my life. Dad and I were able to make up for lost time – all that time I had ignored his advice and lived my own life, regardless of his entreaties. We talked about everything that we could.

I used to joke that I became a preacher because they were the only people who got to talk all the time during church, and I had a hard time being quiet, so…. [Fr. James' note: What do you mean "HAD"?] But the reality was that I knew my burgeoning new faith was not that strong, nor deeply rooted. I figured that if I was ever going to “make it” as a Christian, I better do it full-time. So, in unison with Debbie, I decided that once I graduated from college, I would go attend the same preaching school that dad had attended.

In April 1994, Debbie and I were married. My dad conducted the ceremony, just as he had done for my brother. In December of that year, I graduated from the University of Texas at San Antonio with a BA in English, and no intention of ever using it. I had already been accepted to the preaching school and had begun to raise support to attend. It was standard practice that students to the school raised support just like missionaries for a two year course of study.

By the time Debbie and I got married, dad had improved enough to move to a different town (I won’t go into the specifics, for time’s sake). We lived with her parents for a little over a year before moving to Lubbock to attend the preaching school. I had spent two and a half years being committed to church and God. I had studied with dad and on my own very deeply – well, as deeply as I could at the time. I had even taught the High School bible class at church (where Debbie’s little sister was a student – that was fun, let me tell you). Now, Debbie and I were taking our first big step together into the world of ministry. We would both be students at the preaching school and were determined to give our lives to the service of the Lord.

What was waiting at the preaching school was better than either of us could have ever imagined. And it all started on the very first day of class…