The Kingdom, The Kids, & The Cowboys

AllanStanglin.com

Category: Four Horsemen (Page 1 of 7)

Being Changed on Mission

February 11, 2026 / / 0 Comments

A couple of weeks ago, I told our GCR church a story about my three Horsemen friends and I attempting to feed the homeless in downtown Dallas. This was in the summer of 2001, before I was preaching. Jason, Dan, Kevin, and I had never done anything like this; we had no idea how to do it, or where. But we had made some recent commitments together to stop griping about our church and stop complaining about our own needs and start serving other people. So, we made plans to feed the homeless.

We scrambled together $200 on a Tuesday afternoon, purchased 200 sandwiches off the dollar menu at the McDonald’s next to the downtown Greyhound bus station, and drove to an empty parking lot across the street from the downtown Dallas library. And within about four minutes, we had 13-million homeless people surrounding our minivan and grabbing for food.

That’s what it felt like.

We apologized for not having enough food, we got everyone to line up single file, we prayed over every cheeseburger and McChicken sandwich, and we did the best we could. We were uneasy at first; it was a little tense. And, yeah, we ran out of food fairly quickly. And everybody was… cool. Gracious. Thankful. Very thankful.

We wound up having a lot of conversations. We prayed with probably 20 people. And some of them prayed for us. We laughed together about the food shortage and how we didn’t know what we were doing. I was in a place I had never been with people I had never engaged. We heard a lot of stories. We talked about God. And we stayed there until almost dark.

Almost dark.

I’m telling you, that three hours changed me. It profoundly changed me. We did that once a month for a couple of years and it transformed me. It’s a big part of the things that led to me transitioning out of radio and into preaching. It helped set me on that path.

Actually doing some ministry, having a mission–not just talking about it or studying it or agreeing that it’s good–changes you. When you risk going to new places, meeting new people, and trying new activities, the uneasiness creates some space for change. New experiences challenge your beliefs and assumptions. Ministry when you’re in over your head forces you to face your fears and surprises you with resources and strength from God you didn’t know you had. Hearing the stories first-hand, seeing the places and the people, makes the needs in our world and the opportunities to serve more urgent and real. The Scriptures become more alive and more “right now” when you connect them to real ministry. It pushes us out of the comfort of theory and rhetoric and into the places where God really is changing the world.

To empty yourself for the mission of God like that feels good. You know it feels good, because you’ve experienced it, too. The reason it feels so good is because it’s our God-created and God-ordained purpose. He made us to put other people first. When we do that, we are being Christ-like. That’s why it’s so powerful. When we serve others, when we live in the mission zone, we live better. We worship better. We pray better. We love better. Everything’s better.

And you’ll be changed.

Peace,
Allan

A Very Late Cultural Invention

January 12, 2026 / / 0 Comments

The great Drew Pearson is 75 today. The OG 88. Walk around today with a little bit of a chip on your shoulder in his honor. Try to use the phrase “Hail Mary” at least a couple of times. And just point to the crowd knowingly. Don’t spike it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m not a hundred-percent sure what to do with Substack. It feels like social media, to which I am fundamentally opposed. But some of the best writers I know personally are writing there regularly. So, I’m reading Jim Martin and Daniel Harris and Carrie McKean. Then Steve Schorr, my brother and partner in the Gospel at First Presbyterian, turned me on to the Disarming Leviathan guys. And now I have come across Kenneth B.

I do not know who Kenneth B. is. He is an orthodox Christian. That’s it. Maybe that’s all I need to know. He has written an excellent piece on the Church and our understandings of Church as the Body of Christ. Or, better said, our gross misunderstandings. And it is the best article on Church as the transforming community of faith I have read in a long time.

He writes about people a little younger than me, people in their 40s and 50s maybe, and how they were raised to view Christianity as a personal relationship with Jesus, faith as an emotional experience, and the Church as functioning to produce that experience.

“The idea that church existed to form a people rather than to stimulate an individual was unimaginable to us. Church was treated like a spiritual energy drink. You consumed it for a jolt of religious feeling, and if you stopped feeling the jolt, you changed flavors… Looking back, I realize that what I was handed was not the faith of the apostles, but a very late cultural invention.”

I just preached yesterday about how God’s Holy Spirit transforms us in Christian community, how our commitments to Christ and to his people–people we would never choose, people we don’t agree with, people we may not even like–form us more and more into his holy image. I only wish I had read Kenneth B’s article before I had preached. I think I might have just read the whole thing to everybody and called it good. This is excellent stuff.

“Because the entire structure was built around individual experience, religious feeling became the engine and the evidence of faith. A good church was one that gave you an experience. A bad church was one that did not. Piety was defined by how deeply a song moved you, how intensely a sermon pierced your conscience, how often you felt the Spirit goosebump the back of your neck. If you prayed and felt nothing, the prayer was thought to have failed. If you worshiped and felt nothing, the worship was considered dead.” 

Please read this whole article. It’s right here. Click right here. Read it twice. I think I’m going to write about it in sections this week, along with excerpts from yesterday’s sermon.

“Consider how the early Christians spoke. They did not describe salvation as me and Jesus but as us in Christ. Baptism did not place you in a private booth with God. It plunged you into a people. The Eucharist did not symbolize an internal feeling. It joined your life with every believer at the table.” 

Okay. It’s really good. Check it out. Then come back tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys are six months old. They are both rolling over consistently and sleeping on their bellies. Elliott is starting to hold his own bottle, here and there. Sam is watching Elliott intensely and hollering at him when he feels ignored. They are the two coolest little kids on the planet and they will be center stage at the annual Baby Dedication Service at the Jenks Church this Sunday. We will be on the front row. Cheering and laughing and praising God for his grace in the gift of these guys who fill us with so much joy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had an incredible weekend in Dallas with some of the people I absolutely love the most. Three of the four Horsemen had lunch together at Dan’s house Friday. I snuck in a box of Swiss Cake Rolls and Zebra Cakes–don’t tell Debbie–and we laughed together and talked about all that God is doing in our lives. The Parkinson’s keeps Dan-O mostly confined to his bedroom now, but his Spirit has never known any bounds. He is as full of joy and encouragement as I’ve ever seen him. I thank God for Dan and for his continuous encouragement to me. He sees things in me I never did. Still does. He speaks them into existence, to our Lord and to me, sometimes at the same time.

Friday night, my sister Rhonda and I drove to Oak Cliff to take our Aunt Louann to dinner at the historic Norma’s Cafe. I knew we were going to make for a very loud party, so I made sure we sat in a booth in the very back corner of the restaurant. I think we still scared away some of the patrons. Oh, my word, we shared memories and Stanglin stories, we puzzled over unanswered questions and deep family mysteries, we sang songs (hard to explain), and laughed at everything. And we did it all way too loud.

At one point, the couple in the booth behind Louann got up to leave and looked at us with huge grins on their faces. They laughed and said, “Y’all have some really interesting stories!” I apologized and they assured us it was fine, they were entertained. They could tell we were having fun and that made it fun for them. As they walked away, Louann yelled at me, “WHAT DID THEY SAY?” So I told her. And Louann responded, “DO YOU THINK THEY HEARD US?!” And I yelled back, “I DON’T KNOW! DO YOU THINK THEY HEARD US?!”

Then Saturday morning, Rhonda and I met at the Saturn Road Church of Christ in Garland for Coach Richmond’s funeral. Coach Larry Richmond was my high school football coach at Dallas Christian. He was a history and health teacher and, for a couple of years in an emergency situation, our tennis coach. And we all loved him deeply. There were about 20 of us at the service who played for Coach Richmond, and we took pictures together and swapped a lot of football stories in the foyer, at the reception, and for about three hours at the On the Border at Saturn Road and Northwest Highway.

That crazy last drive and the Savage Fake that beat Metro Christian. The 4th quarter meltdown in that playoff game at Bishop Lynch. Cowboy drills. Sideline tackle drills. Uphill forties. Dean Stewart’s grades that were questionable for the Trinity game and kept him out of the First Baptist game. The Greenhill bell. Crack-backing on Greg Lybrand in practice and fearing for my life every day after until he graduated. A certain peanut butter incident after a week of two-a-days at football camp. The Bomb Squad. Ground Control. Coach T’s “Major Tom” towel. All the nicknames. Pearhead’s intense running. Godoy’s speed and the physical way he went after a football. Dumb Adkins’ toughness and leadership. Coach Lisle.

As I drove to Midland after that long lunch, my head aching from laughing too hard for too long, and Rhonda drove home to Edmond, we talked on the phone with each other for almost an hour and a half. Psycho-analyzing all of it. Reviewing feelings and reactions. Remembering people who weren’t there. Reminding of something funny or unexpected that was done or said.

I came away from the weekend overflowing with gratitude to God for all the amazingly wonderful people he has placed in my life. My whole life. Coach Richmond was MY coach! So was Coach Lisle! I had both of them! And Coach A and Coach T and Coach Savage and Coach Smith and Coach Shack. How was I so blessed? Jason Reeves is MY friend. So is Dan and Kevin and Robby John! Todd Adkins was MY teammate and running buddy in high school and MY roommate in college. I also went to high school and was friends with Mark Cawyer and Randy Hill and Michelle Peoples and Jeff Majors and Stephen Fitzhugh and Kyle Douthit! How? Rhonda Kingsley is MY sister! Completely undeserved! Totally lucky! Deeply and richly blessed by God!

Don’t wait until next week. Tell the people you love that you love them.

Peace,

Allan

Dining with Dan-O

August 17, 2023 / / 1 Comment

“In a good friendship each member often feels humility towards the rest. He sees that they are splendid and counts himself lucky to be among them.” ~C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves

I spent three days this week in DFW spending some significant time with some of the very most important people in my life. I had lunch with Rick Atchley at a Fuzzy’s Taco a few blocks from The Hills. I spent a few hours with our youngest daughter Carley at their brand new house in Flower Mound. I had dinner with David and Shanna Byrnes, Dawson and his wife Mallory, Dakota, David’s mom Paula, and their three (four?) dogs.

 

But the absolute highlight of my trip was dining with Dan-O and the other Horsemen.

Dan Miller is one of my dearest and oldest friends and one of the fabled Four Horsemen. If you’re relatively new to me and/or to this blog, you might not know about the Four Horsemen. These three men and their families form a mutual alliance of love, support, and encouragement for me and my family that’s impossible to describe (you can read about our origins together by clicking here or you can search “Four Horsemen” on this site to get a glimpse of what these guys mean to me).

We four made vows to each other around my kitchen table in 2001, before two of us were preachers, before any of us had married kids, before any of us got cancer or lost jobs or moved across the state. Since then, for the past 22 years, we’ve taken an annual three-day camping trip together at Tyler State Park. We pray together via Zoom once a month. We’ve traveled to Tulsa and Abilene together for church conferences and workshops. We’ve helped each other move (they’ve helped me more than I’ve helped them). We’ve attended every one of our kids’ weddings. And we keep in very close contact.

A little over two years ago, Dan was diagnosed with Parkinson’s — it was just after we had moved to Midland. We had noticed his shaking for about a year before that, but he can be really stubborn. I think he’s so optimistic and hopeful by nature, he refused to believe anything was wrong. A few months after his diagnosis, they added another huge uppercut to the gut punch: Lewy Body Dementia.

Not good.

I’ve seen Dan in person only twice since then. So it was a gracious gift from the Lord to be able to round up the Four Horsemen this week for some quality time together at a couple of Dan’s favorite spots.

First, it was the El Fenix in Casa Linda, a neighborhood in East Dallas that was always just a little more upscale than my Pleasant Grove community to the south — we had a Pancho’s in Pleasant Grove. When we were kids, we only drove north on Buckner Boulevard to Casa Linda if our church was doing something with the White Rock Church of Christ. I remember eating at this El Fenix with my friend Todd Adkins and his family when I would spend the night at his house on Telegraph near White Rock Lake. When I was 14, Glen and Becky Burroughs took my sister and me to see Raiders of the Lost Ark at the Casa Linda Theater across the street from the El Fenix. That theater is now a Natural Grocers, which is really weird; the movie poster boards out front now contain grocery store ads.

 

 

 

 

When I moved to Arlington and, later, to North Richland Hills, the Horsemen made it a point to eat a long lunch together on the last Friday of every month. The almost-halfway point was the El Fenix in North Dallas at LBJ and Forest Lane. We did that together for years until I moved to Amarillo and the monthly lunch became a monthly prayer via conference call. So, it was nostalgic on several fronts to eat together at the Casa Linda El Fenix on Tuesday. It’s not as cool as eating at the original El Fenix at McKinney and Pearl Streets in downtown Dallas, the one that opened in 1918. But this El Fenix in Casa Linda opened in 1956 and, at the time, boasted the first and only completely stainless steel kitchen in the restaurant industry. Clean!

Beef fajitas. Tortillas. Chips and salsa and queso. Sopapillas AND churos and ice cream. And a lot of laughing.

Then yesterday we got together for breakfast at the Goldmine in the historic Ridgewood area of Garland. It’s just a generic diner, a little rundown cafe. I had never been to the Goldmine before, but it’s super close to Dan’s house, so it made sense. Little did I know that all three of these guys have stomped through the Goldmine over the past five decades: Kevin as a freshman at Eastfield College, Jason as a Garland police officer, and Dan over the past few years living near Centerville and Duck Creek Drive.

Eggs and sausage. Hashbrowns and country potatoes. Biscuits and gravy. Diet Dr Pepper! And a lot of laughing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Parkinson’s / Lewy Body Dementia combo is brutal. My great friend Dan-O Miller is suffering. He shakes. He hurts. He can’t straighten out his fingers. He can’t stop the leg cramps. Hallucinations. Bone pain. Overall weakness and fatigue. Side effects. Doctors visits. New medications. No more driving. Forgetfulness. Delayed reactions and slower response times. Dizziness. Loss of balance.

Yet, Dan continues to think of others more than himself. He still considers the needs of others more important than his own. He still jokes and laughs with an abounding and limitless joy. And he still sees the very best in every person and in every situation.

Dan Miller speaks with such confidence about our Lord and his plans for each one of us. He encourages me. He lifts me up. He sees things in me that I never have — good things, holy things. He speaks over me things I have never thought — eternal things, Gospel things. He sees beyond the urgent to the bigger picture truths of love and unity and charity. He is secure in his saving relationship with God through Christ Jesus. He talks about it and he lives it. He always has. He still does. He has less time now for skirting around difficult issues and less patience for Christians who know better. But he is still able to see our God very clearly in every person and in every place.

I am a better person because I know Dan. I’m a better Christian, a better husband and dad, a better preacher. I’m paying close attention to Dan now, watching him, listening to him, learning from him as he navigates this incredibly difficult journey. I want to be more like him. I want to love and forgive and serve others the way he does. I want to be faithful like Dan, faithful to friends and family, faithful to our God even in the middle of hardship.

Dan reflects the glory of our God in his compassion for others, his love for all people of all kinds, and his capacity to encourage. Even now. Especially now.

I thank God for Dan Miller.

Peace,

Allan

Another Horsemen Wedding

June 26, 2017 / / 0 Comments

Dan’s three children are all married off and living in California, South Carolina, and Austin. And now it begins for another of us Four Horsemen — it’s Jason’s turn.

The Four Horsemen and our families got together this past weekend in Dallas/Garland/Forney/Anna for the glorious occasion of the wedding of Jason and Tiersa’s first-born son, Mason. Yes, Mason went to Harding, met a beautiful Lady Bisons scholarship softball player, fell fast in love, and gave his whole life to her Saturday on the shores of a little country lake in Anna. And we were blessed by God to share it with all the Reeves and each other.


 

It was great to see Dan and Debbie’s new house in the White Rock Lake area of the Dallas-Garland border. It was fun walking (and driving) around Kevin and Anita’s expanding mansion and Henrichson compound in Sunnyvale. We had a blast with Jason and Tiersa and their rapidly growing children. And we also got to spend some really quality time with Chris and Liz Moore and Ray and Gail Vannoy.

We shared meals together. We prayed together. We got caught up on everybody’s kids and jobs and churches. I think we were able to calm Tiersa down a little bit on Friday night when the 300 wooden spoons for the Blue Bell homemade vanilla (instead of a groom’s cake; thank you, Mason!) didn’t come in. We all pitched in together to locate the spoons and Kevin went out and grabbed them Saturday morning, insuring that we didn’t have to eat our ice cream with wooden forks. Dan and I shared a wonderful early morning conversation about our pasts and our futures, drinking coffee and Diet Dr Pepper together, watching the rain before the girls were awake. We all calmed down when the rain finally stopped at about 2:00 Saturday afternoon. And, yes, Jason’s ceremony from start to finish only lasted a promised 14-minutes!


 

I don’t know how he did it. How do you perform the wedding ceremony for your own child? I was barely able to officiate my niece Maryn’s wedding a year-and-a-half ago. Jason has a personal bias against preachers who cry in the pulpit and a personal policy governing it: bite through your lip until the blood is running down your shirt before you shed a tear up there.

They tied the knot, we ate burgers and dogs and cake and ice cream, took a lot of pictures, hugged everybody ‘good-bye,’ and then Carrie-Anne drove the six-hours home while I alternately slept and reviewed my Sunday sermon.

Dan’s done, Jason’s taking his cuts now, and Kevin’s on-deck. His oldest son, Clayton, is getting married to the lovely and sweet Taylor in less than a year. Yeah, I’m taking notes through these shared wedding experiences. I know/hope my time’s coming. Blue Bell ice cream instead of a groom’s cake was a really important takeaway for me.

May God bless Mason and Mack. As they give their lives to each other and give their relationship together to our Lord, may he flood them with his mercies of love and joy and peace. And may their marriage bring eternal glory and praise to the One who brought our four families together eighteen years ago.

Peace,

Allan

Hat Trick!

March 25, 2017 / / 0 Comments

Adam Cracknell scored his first career hat trick last night to help the Stars cruise past San Jose 6-1 at American Airlines Center and Whitney and I were there to see it! Thanks to Brenda we had just a really great night together. Until we settled into our seats at center ice during the warm up, I had forgotten how much I really, really love NHL hockey. For grace and speed and skill and tension and pace and athleticism and teamwork and pure non-stop action, nothing beats the NHL. I forgot. I forgot how much I love hockey. Thank you, Brenda! We had a blast.

We wrapped up our quick weekend trip to DFW this morning by meeting some of our oldest and best friends from Mesquite for breakfast at the Pioneer Restaurant in old Arlington. It turned into a two-hour deal and it easily could have gone until past lunch. Carrie-Anne and I and our family feel so blessed to love and be loved by the Reeves, Millers, and Moores for so long now. Our Lord has faithfully brought us all through so much over the past seventeen years. Together.

Peace,

Allan

One Down, Fourteen to Go

January 12, 2013 / / 1 Comment

 

The oldest daughter of the Four Horsemen’s combined 15 children is getting married this afternoon in Dallas and we’re all assembling to take part in this wonderful and sacred moment together. Little Katie Miller is pledging her life to some boy named Justin today. And they are, in turn, pledging their lives to one another and to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It’s a blessed day. It’s a sacred day. And we wouldn’t miss it for the world.

These three great friends of mine and their families are the single most influential force in my life. It was almost twelve years ago around my dining room table in Mesquite when Jason and Dan and Kevin and I pledged to give our lives more fully to God and to his Kingdom work in this world. We vowed to stick together as brothers, to support and encourage one another, to protect and defend one another, to live and love and serve together in the name of Jesus until he returns. Together, our families have been through the death of parents, the birth of twins, a divorce and remarriage, cancer, the adoption of another child (hopefully official in less than two months!) and three dramatic career changes. The cop and the jewelry salesman and the architect and the sports radio guy are all four now proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus in various ways, ways that twelve years ago would have seemed unlikely, if not completely impossible. I praise God for the ways these men and their families have impacted me and my family.

We wouldn’t miss today’s wedding for the world. Yeah, we’re going to wind up spending more than 13 hours in the car during a 30-hour period. We left straight from Carley’s school yesterday and won’t get home until after midnight tonight. But there’s no way we couldn’t do it. I believe this weekend is a reminder to us eight adults of the commitments we’ve made to one another and, by God’s grace, have maintained to this point. And, way beyond that, I believe we are passing on to our children a legacy of what it looks like to live and love in committed Christian community. This is what it looks like to be faithful brothers and sisters, this is what it looks like to keep promises, this is what it’s like to bless and serve one another as God in Christ blesses and serves us.

Friendships like this are rare. Extremely rare. My family and I feel so specially blessed to have the Reeves and Henrichsons and Millers in our lives. We are better people, we are better disciples of our Lord because of our relationships with one another. And we intend to continue to show our children just how important these kinds of relationships and commitments are as we walk together in the ways of Christ.

We’re all going to eat at El Fenix this afternoon and then we’re going to sit together while Katie walks down the aisle on her wedding day. The first of maybe 14 more of these weddings. What a wonderful day. What a sacred and blessed day.

May our merciful Father bless Katie and Justin with his richest gifts of love and strength. May their marriage reflect his eternal glory. And may their lives together result in praise to the one who’s brought us together in the name and manner of his great Son.

Peace,

Allan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The picture’s blurry, but this is what it looks like when four families commit to one another in Christ. We try to live out Romans 12 with one another so that we are all members of the same group and each member belongs to all the others. Katie is ours and now Justin is, too. And they both need to know that we will be praying for them, keeping up with them, and always there for them for the rest of our lives. We enjoyed our time with y’all so much. God bless Justin & Kate!

« Older posts

© 2026 The Kingdom, The Kids, & The Cowboys

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑