Category Archives: Family

Royce! Why Aren’t You Serving the Lord?

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It has been ten years since I graduated from Southern Baptist Theological Seminary (SBTS). I have not yet served in any professional ministry. At various times, family and friends have asked, “Are you a pastor yet? When are you going … Continue reading

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I Tried Being Methodist. I Didn’t Like It.

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Whenever a Methodist coworker or friend learns that I used to be a Methodist, they ask in bewilderment, “Why aren’t you still a Methodist? How could you leave the largest and most popular denomination in the USA? Don’t you think … Continue reading

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Rampage Against Education

It has been nine years since I graduated from seminary, fifteen years since graduating from College, and twenty-five years since graduating from high school. Throughout high school, my teachers, guidance counselors, and classmates drummed into my head the idea that … Continue reading

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Eulogy for the Talented Man

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Frank E. Hunt (b. November 21, 1933 d. September 1, 2014) It doesn’t seem like that long ago. My dad was mowing our lawn on Karen Drive in Summerford, Ohio. I pushed my little plastic lawn mower behind his, trying … Continue reading

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I’m Sooooooooo Stupid…

Over the past three years, I have become known to some of my coworkers as an absolute dunderbunny, a mental midget, and an irrational imbecile for the beliefs that I hold and upon which I act. The main categories of idiocy for which I am condemned are finances, family, and faith. I am convinced that in each of these areas, I have at least a modicum of intelligence; yet, I have learned to accept the title of fool. Continue reading

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Honoring Thy Father

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In last weeks installment of ROAR, I painted a very small portion of the canvas that is my dad. I did so in order to show how God provided another man to fill the void of kindness and fun in a little boy’s life. Yes, in respect to play and kindness, my dad was lacking; however, my dad has many admirable qualities. Continue reading

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On Being a “Grampa Tooker”

When dad stopped being fun, I turned to Grandpa Tooker. Mr. Tooker lived across the drive from us. He had a small farm, in which he grew corn and assorted other vegetables. He was a very kind man, who, knowing that both my biological grandpas were dead, adopted me as his very own grandson. When I went across the street to visit him, he said, “When you’re over here, you’re a Tooker.” Continue reading

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