I spent my pre-college, teen-age years living in the city of Houston, Texas. My small-town parents worried constantly for my safety and sanity in the big city. Thus they set boundary lines for me. There were certain parts of the city where I was not allowed, and certain places that were off-limits to me. As the son of a Southern Baptist pastor, you can imagine where some of those places were. But I survived and to this day have wonderful (although mostly Facebook-type) friends from those years. I appreciated my parents’ concern, but was glad to move off to college, for an unexpected culture shock. From the city to the country; from the second largest High School in the south to a college of 1000 students; from big city boundaries to small town freedoms. Brownwood, Texas was a long way from Houston, not just in miles. Described by some as located, “fifteen miles from the nearest known sin,” this new environment presented new opportunities and possibilities. My sophomore roommate was an Agriculture major from “out-of-Lometa, Texas” with pictures of cows beside his bed. Needless to say, it was an interesting year. But the early boundaries kept me in line and to this day, some of my best friends, are my former college classmates. To go from one among the masses in a large city and a High School graduating class of more than 700 to being named my University’s Distinguished Alumni of the Year in 2015, was quite a journey, with some very interesting boundaries. The Psalmist wrote, “The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; Yes, I have a good inheritance.” (Psalm 16:6). Better, the NIV translates it, “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.” This would be a good week to check and reflect on your boundary lines, and if necessary, join me in being grateful.