Sunday, August 8, 2010
Back When My Hair Was Short
Back when I was growing up, children of all ages played together. Many of our moms could not drive, and we were too young to ride our bicycles very far.Ann Marie and her little brother lived just down the road from our house. I would go by their house and look at all the hunting dogs her dad had. In later years, her mom worked at the high school, and would sometimes give me a ride so I did not have to stand out in the cold waiting for the bus.My dad painted for the Naval Weapons Station during the day, then did other painting jobs at night and on Saturdays (NEVER on Sunday, that was for church) One day, a customer asked dad if I would like a "little car" that he had. So, a few nights later, we emptied our dad's work wagon and hauled it home.It was red and white, and as you can see in the picture, it REALLY was a little car. The engine was pretty well shot, so it was in the garage more than on the roads. In those days, we all rode mini-bikes and go-carts on the state roads, and nobody complained.I drove the car down to Ann Marie's and took her for a ride around the neighborhood. As you can see in the picture, my dog, "King" followed us all the way.Years later, it was Facebook that helped us re-connect. Good times
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Homeward Bound
Sorry it's been a while since I've posted. Sometimes I just get "blogger's block".
In just a few weeks, I will be heading back to my hometown, Mathews County, Virginia.
I don't get back very often anymore, so I am looking forward to it. My college friend and seminary roommate has even invited me to preach at his church there while I am in town. It should be a really fun time. I love to go back and see everyone, and sometimes it seems like I just left yesterday, even though I moved away over 25 years ago.
When I got sick last year, I was amazed at the number of cards that poured in to the hospital room. They came from all over the United States, even some from other countries. A large number came from Mathews. The surprising thing about those Mathews cards was that many of them were from people I did not know that well, or from folks I had not talked with in years. This year at the Mathews Relay for Life, I was honored that several participants listed me as one of the persons they were walking for. Through Facebook, I have also gotten to know some people much better than I knew them before.
If you are near Mathews, I would love to see you when I come back in August. I will be preaching at 11:00 a.m. on August 22 at Locust Grove United Methodist Church.
I'll try to post more often, too.
Have you ever wanted to just be "good enough"?
In just a few weeks, I will be heading back to my hometown, Mathews County, Virginia.
I don't get back very often anymore, so I am looking forward to it. My college friend and seminary roommate has even invited me to preach at his church there while I am in town. It should be a really fun time. I love to go back and see everyone, and sometimes it seems like I just left yesterday, even though I moved away over 25 years ago.
When I got sick last year, I was amazed at the number of cards that poured in to the hospital room. They came from all over the United States, even some from other countries. A large number came from Mathews. The surprising thing about those Mathews cards was that many of them were from people I did not know that well, or from folks I had not talked with in years. This year at the Mathews Relay for Life, I was honored that several participants listed me as one of the persons they were walking for. Through Facebook, I have also gotten to know some people much better than I knew them before.
If you are near Mathews, I would love to see you when I come back in August. I will be preaching at 11:00 a.m. on August 22 at Locust Grove United Methodist Church.
I'll try to post more often, too.
Have you ever wanted to just be "good enough"?
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Happy Father's Day
I could write a book about everything my Dad, Raymond Busic, taught me, some by spoken word, much by silent example. My dad was my hero. He was always there for me, often quietly in the background. When I talked, he did not just wait for a chance to jump in and correct me. He actually listened to me, and tried to understand me.
Some people grew up having to fear a whipping if they missed behaved. My dad never touched me, but he did discipline me, and I am a better man today for it. I always feared disappointing my dad. I did not do it often, but when I did, I felt like I was breaking his heart. That hurt me more than any spanking ever could.
Dad hung on to life like you cannot believe. I think we actually had to convince him that it was alright to die. He worried about leaving my mom and my sister behind, and missing all of us. Someone recently told me, after my health problems and near-death experience last year "You remind me a lot of your dad, your will to live" I'm sure he's where I get my toughness from, my determination to keep fighting. Dad lived for 30 years after his first stroke. He had all kinds of health problems. But he kept fighting, and he lived to see me graduate high school, college, and get married. He also saw all of his grandchildren be born. He was respected across the community, and known as a man of integrity and a man of his word. I don't know of one enemy Dad had. If I can be half the man my father was, I will have done well. He was and is my hero, my example, and my inspiration.
Well, now that I've had a good cry (my daddy taught me that was ok, too) I better get ready to go preach. My job is to be a good husband and a good dad. If I don't do that, how can I represent the love of God?
Have a blessed day!
Some people grew up having to fear a whipping if they missed behaved. My dad never touched me, but he did discipline me, and I am a better man today for it. I always feared disappointing my dad. I did not do it often, but when I did, I felt like I was breaking his heart. That hurt me more than any spanking ever could.
Dad hung on to life like you cannot believe. I think we actually had to convince him that it was alright to die. He worried about leaving my mom and my sister behind, and missing all of us. Someone recently told me, after my health problems and near-death experience last year "You remind me a lot of your dad, your will to live" I'm sure he's where I get my toughness from, my determination to keep fighting. Dad lived for 30 years after his first stroke. He had all kinds of health problems. But he kept fighting, and he lived to see me graduate high school, college, and get married. He also saw all of his grandchildren be born. He was respected across the community, and known as a man of integrity and a man of his word. I don't know of one enemy Dad had. If I can be half the man my father was, I will have done well. He was and is my hero, my example, and my inspiration.
Well, now that I've had a good cry (my daddy taught me that was ok, too) I better get ready to go preach. My job is to be a good husband and a good dad. If I don't do that, how can I represent the love of God?
Have a blessed day!
Friday, June 4, 2010
Moving Day - Part 1
Moving Day. For United Methodist churches and their pastors, it is a day of excitement, sadness, so many feelings, and usually exhausted by the ride to the new church.
I first remember moving day from the mid 1970's. My best friend's father was the pastor of our church. Back then, it was unusual for a pastor to stay longer than four years at an "appointment"'. When Rev. Rogers came back for a fifth year, we knew our time with him was almost over. I remember going to the parsonage the day the loading truck came. I was really upset and mad. When my parents were really ill, I often stayed at the parsonage. It was like losing my second family. I also felt like the church asked Rev. Rogers to move because certain people wanted to control the church, and Rev Rogers himself. I do know that, while he was at our church, it was not at all unusual to have to set up folding chairs in the aisles to seat everyone in the congregation. The church has gone downhill since he left over 25 years ago.
In case you are not United Methodist, you may find it strange to move the pastor almost automatically after five years. These days, if pastor and church are willing, there is no longer a time limit. As for our "system", the Bishop appoints pastors to churches. UM churches do not go and hire their own pastors. We pastors are "sent" to the church.
My next post will detail some of what my kids have gone through in this process, as well as what other pastor's families have shared we me. PLEASE share your experiences, either here, or for more privacy, at revacb32@yahoo.com. All email will remain anonymous.
Been sick for a week-hope things continue to improve!
Have a blessed day!
I first remember moving day from the mid 1970's. My best friend's father was the pastor of our church. Back then, it was unusual for a pastor to stay longer than four years at an "appointment"'. When Rev. Rogers came back for a fifth year, we knew our time with him was almost over. I remember going to the parsonage the day the loading truck came. I was really upset and mad. When my parents were really ill, I often stayed at the parsonage. It was like losing my second family. I also felt like the church asked Rev. Rogers to move because certain people wanted to control the church, and Rev Rogers himself. I do know that, while he was at our church, it was not at all unusual to have to set up folding chairs in the aisles to seat everyone in the congregation. The church has gone downhill since he left over 25 years ago.
In case you are not United Methodist, you may find it strange to move the pastor almost automatically after five years. These days, if pastor and church are willing, there is no longer a time limit. As for our "system", the Bishop appoints pastors to churches. UM churches do not go and hire their own pastors. We pastors are "sent" to the church.
My next post will detail some of what my kids have gone through in this process, as well as what other pastor's families have shared we me. PLEASE share your experiences, either here, or for more privacy, at revacb32@yahoo.com. All email will remain anonymous.
Been sick for a week-hope things continue to improve!
Have a blessed day!
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Bad Hair High School
Some people have bad hair days. I had a "bad hair high school". NO, not everybody at my high school had bad hair; most had cuts that were part of the times (late 70's-early80's) No, I mean me, personally. I had some of the worst hair in high school history.
It was no one's fault but my own. My sister in law, who is a hair stylist and cut my hair once a month, cut it EXACTLY the way I told her to. For some reason known only to God (or perhaps Satan) I thought my hair looked good that way. I had to have been more than confused. Delusional is the word that comes to mind now.
I had a shop teacher in middle school who could not pronounce my last name, "Busic", so he called me "Bush". Well, considering the way my hair looked, the nickname stuck. Some high school friends still remember it today, almost 30 years later. I mean, it got so bad, my parents had to tie a bone around my neck to get my dog to play with me!! People hung my picture beside trash cans to keep the rodents away--I was not much to look at, to put it mildly.
Then, it happened. One day, during the summer before I started college, my mom, sister and I were going to Newport News to shop at Newmarket North Mall. My sister suggested that I try a new haircut. I didn't have much hope for it, but I went along with it. When it was done, I liked it, and thought it was a big improvement.
That afternoon, on the way back from Newport News, we stopped at the ballpark to watch a softball game. As I walked from the parking lot to the ball field, someone happened to turn around and see me. Soon, more and more people were turning around and staring at me. Some began to jump out of the bleachers and start running towards me. I thought something was wrong, but it was all because of my hair!!
I am thankful that I got it changed before I started college. I no longer scared young children, and girls could actually look at me for a few minutes. One guy kept saying "You look like John Travolta" Well, that was not my aim, nor do I think I looked like him. But it really was an improvement.
Got a bad hair story? I'd love to hear it.
Have a blessed day!!
It was no one's fault but my own. My sister in law, who is a hair stylist and cut my hair once a month, cut it EXACTLY the way I told her to. For some reason known only to God (or perhaps Satan) I thought my hair looked good that way. I had to have been more than confused. Delusional is the word that comes to mind now.
I had a shop teacher in middle school who could not pronounce my last name, "Busic", so he called me "Bush". Well, considering the way my hair looked, the nickname stuck. Some high school friends still remember it today, almost 30 years later. I mean, it got so bad, my parents had to tie a bone around my neck to get my dog to play with me!! People hung my picture beside trash cans to keep the rodents away--I was not much to look at, to put it mildly.
Then, it happened. One day, during the summer before I started college, my mom, sister and I were going to Newport News to shop at Newmarket North Mall. My sister suggested that I try a new haircut. I didn't have much hope for it, but I went along with it. When it was done, I liked it, and thought it was a big improvement.
That afternoon, on the way back from Newport News, we stopped at the ballpark to watch a softball game. As I walked from the parking lot to the ball field, someone happened to turn around and see me. Soon, more and more people were turning around and staring at me. Some began to jump out of the bleachers and start running towards me. I thought something was wrong, but it was all because of my hair!!
I am thankful that I got it changed before I started college. I no longer scared young children, and girls could actually look at me for a few minutes. One guy kept saying "You look like John Travolta" Well, that was not my aim, nor do I think I looked like him. But it really was an improvement.
Got a bad hair story? I'd love to hear it.
Have a blessed day!!
Monday, May 17, 2010
Prom Night
While we were enjoying Jacqueline's graduation from Virginia Tech (more on that another time), many of the final Prom of 2010 were being held. Many of our friend's children were dressed to the top, and I hope they will have many wonderful memories of the special night for years to come. I have attached two pictures of my friend's children from their proms this year.
My Proms were not memorable occasions, at least not for many good reasons. For my junior prom. I was not dating anyone steady at the time, so I did not get a date until fairly late in the process. I had a good friend who ran on the track team with me, and her boyfriend was also a great friend of mine. As the time grew near, I still had no date. My friends had broken up, and it seemed to be all over. I asked her if she wanted to go to the prom with me. My friend T already had a new date, and M said she would like to go. We were just going as friends, which was fine with us.
Well, on Prom Night, we went to dinner, and M ordered a nice meal, but ate almost none of it. The food was fine, she said, but she was just not hungry. About five minutes after we got to the Prom. M said she was going to the bathroom. Except for two quick trips out, she stayed there pretty much the ENTIRE night! I learned later that my friend T broke his hand that night when he punched a wall because he was so upset that they had broken up! He was nice enough not to punch me.
My senior prom started off well. My date and I had been seeing each other for a couple of months, and I was quite smitten with her. Since she lived in the next county, no one else at my school really knew her very well. Dinner was fine, and the other couple at the table had a good time, too. The Prom itself was ok, nothing spectacular, but not bad.
When I called her to go out the next week, she said she was busy all weekend. Suddenly, she was always "busy" every time I called. I don't think we ever officially broke up, but I realized pretty quick she didn't want to see me any more. That summer, I started dating a girl who lived down the road from J. She told me that J had been dating another guy while she was dating me. I still don't know if that was true or not, but it seemed to explain her sudden "busyness". Years later J and I got back in touch. I performed her wedding, and we have talked a lot over the last few years. But, the whole thing kinda soured me on the prom.
My daughter enjoyed both of her Proms, and I even worked the After Prom her senior year. It was a Casino Night theme, so I was a black-jack dealer. Lots of fun.
How was your Prom/Proms? PLEASE share your stories-I really enjoy reading them.
Have a blessed day!
My Proms were not memorable occasions, at least not for many good reasons. For my junior prom. I was not dating anyone steady at the time, so I did not get a date until fairly late in the process. I had a good friend who ran on the track team with me, and her boyfriend was also a great friend of mine. As the time grew near, I still had no date. My friends had broken up, and it seemed to be all over. I asked her if she wanted to go to the prom with me. My friend T already had a new date, and M said she would like to go. We were just going as friends, which was fine with us.
Well, on Prom Night, we went to dinner, and M ordered a nice meal, but ate almost none of it. The food was fine, she said, but she was just not hungry. About five minutes after we got to the Prom. M said she was going to the bathroom. Except for two quick trips out, she stayed there pretty much the ENTIRE night! I learned later that my friend T broke his hand that night when he punched a wall because he was so upset that they had broken up! He was nice enough not to punch me.
My senior prom started off well. My date and I had been seeing each other for a couple of months, and I was quite smitten with her. Since she lived in the next county, no one else at my school really knew her very well. Dinner was fine, and the other couple at the table had a good time, too. The Prom itself was ok, nothing spectacular, but not bad.
When I called her to go out the next week, she said she was busy all weekend. Suddenly, she was always "busy" every time I called. I don't think we ever officially broke up, but I realized pretty quick she didn't want to see me any more. That summer, I started dating a girl who lived down the road from J. She told me that J had been dating another guy while she was dating me. I still don't know if that was true or not, but it seemed to explain her sudden "busyness". Years later J and I got back in touch. I performed her wedding, and we have talked a lot over the last few years. But, the whole thing kinda soured me on the prom.
My daughter enjoyed both of her Proms, and I even worked the After Prom her senior year. It was a Casino Night theme, so I was a black-jack dealer. Lots of fun.
How was your Prom/Proms? PLEASE share your stories-I really enjoy reading them.
Have a blessed day!
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Random Thoughts
A good friend does "Three Thing Thursday". I'll just call today "Random Thoughts"
1. The specialist said my sample showed nothing-surprise!-so I have to have a scope treatment done May 19th. Not gonna be pleasant, but let's hope it helps me feel better. I do not like taking strong pain meds, but right now it's about the only thing that gets me through the day.
2. Excited that I was asked to preach this Mother's Day at a church in Roanoke. Also glad it will give their pastor a chance to go to Louisiana for a mission trip. I miss preaching- I don't miss the administrative part of ministry, however.
3. Sarah Palin is easy on the eyes, but hard on the brain. Scary how many people see her as a leader.
4. Lawrence Taylor is in trouble again. Just another example that great athletes do not always make for greatness in society (Tiger, Kobe, Big Ben, on and on it goes).
5. BP was allowed to get by without installing the most modern safety equipment on it's rigs because our government has always relied to much on the oil industry itself, and politicians from big oil states, to police the industry. We are only seeing the beginning of what this ONE spill will do to the Gulf Coast. Can you imagine how much even one spill in the Atlantic Ocean off Virginia would impact the Chesapeake Bay? Not worth it, especially since the experts tell us there is not much oil in the Atlantic area any way.
6. A week from tomorrow, my daughter will graduate from Virginia Tech. We have already started cleaning the house, preparing for guests to arrive, and getting things ready for her graduation party. Four years have gone by quickly.
Well, have a good weekend!!
1. The specialist said my sample showed nothing-surprise!-so I have to have a scope treatment done May 19th. Not gonna be pleasant, but let's hope it helps me feel better. I do not like taking strong pain meds, but right now it's about the only thing that gets me through the day.
2. Excited that I was asked to preach this Mother's Day at a church in Roanoke. Also glad it will give their pastor a chance to go to Louisiana for a mission trip. I miss preaching- I don't miss the administrative part of ministry, however.
3. Sarah Palin is easy on the eyes, but hard on the brain. Scary how many people see her as a leader.
4. Lawrence Taylor is in trouble again. Just another example that great athletes do not always make for greatness in society (Tiger, Kobe, Big Ben, on and on it goes).
5. BP was allowed to get by without installing the most modern safety equipment on it's rigs because our government has always relied to much on the oil industry itself, and politicians from big oil states, to police the industry. We are only seeing the beginning of what this ONE spill will do to the Gulf Coast. Can you imagine how much even one spill in the Atlantic Ocean off Virginia would impact the Chesapeake Bay? Not worth it, especially since the experts tell us there is not much oil in the Atlantic area any way.
6. A week from tomorrow, my daughter will graduate from Virginia Tech. We have already started cleaning the house, preparing for guests to arrive, and getting things ready for her graduation party. Four years have gone by quickly.
Well, have a good weekend!!
Monday, May 3, 2010
My New Heroes
This past weekend, an event unequalled in all of Mathews County history was held. The Harry Ward auditorium hosted the Relay for Life "Woman less Beauty Pageant" "Lovelies" from across the county showed their "stuff" to help raise money for the fight against cancer, and to help bring a truckload of belly laughs and tears of joy that rival anything good ole Mathews, VA has ever seen before (but hopefully will see again!)
As somebody who is battling cancer, has lost loved ones and friends to it, and knows so many who are also battling right now, I just want to say a huge "THANK YOU" It takes a strong, confident man to wear a dress in public (and some of the other outfits, you got more guts than me!) even for a good cause! Even from five hours away, it was a sight to behold! Be sure to check out my 'New Heroes" picture on the right, and I will also post some links to more pictures in the comments section.
Have a great day!
As somebody who is battling cancer, has lost loved ones and friends to it, and knows so many who are also battling right now, I just want to say a huge "THANK YOU" It takes a strong, confident man to wear a dress in public (and some of the other outfits, you got more guts than me!) even for a good cause! Even from five hours away, it was a sight to behold! Be sure to check out my 'New Heroes" picture on the right, and I will also post some links to more pictures in the comments section.
Have a great day!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Struggling to go to Church
Well, you know I never blog on the weekends, so this must be a special occasion. It is, and it is a troubling one. After being in the church all of my life, and being a pastor for over 25 years, I currently, because of my health issues, am not leading a church. What has struck me the last few months is that, I really don't like going to church.
I have no problems with God, Jesus or the Holy Spirit. I still pray every day, and find my personal faith to be as strong, or stronger, than it has ever been. I am extremely grateful that God healed me in a miraculous fashion (tell any doctor what I've been through the last 18 months, and watch the expression on their face). I feel nothing but gratitude and love towards the Lord. But I sit in church and go crazy inside.
It is interesting to hear someone else preach. I often think of what illustrations I might have used as I listen to them use one to make a point. Thank goodness I don't sit there and try to pick them apart. I am a silent cheerleader, praising each solid point in my mind, and cheering them onward and upward if they seem to be struggling a little bit (been there, done that, not fun or easy!)
The main thing is, I look around and let my mind wander. I get depressed when I see so few young people, and worry that I am worshipping with the last generation of that particular church. I see people, and think of all the petty arguments and back-stabbing that goes on, and how their poor pastor has to put up with and try to control that garbage. Too many people join the church and stop growing immediately. They should serve less fried chicken and more milk at covered dish suppers-lots of baby Christians out their who have already reached retirement age!
I think of how the church picks and chooses what sins to talk about and which ones to ignore-sin is sin, but too many churches want to rail about homosexuality and abortion while ignoring the greed and untruthfulness all around them, and all of the adultery and couples living together without marriage. God does not pick and choose--God loves us all, but hates ALL sin! and we are ALL sinners, not just "them".
I sill love to preach and share God's Word, I guess I'm just struggling a bit. A good friend said that, after all I have been through, it's not unusual or un-expected. So, if you pray, please pray for me. I know the church is not a shrine for the saints, but is a hospital for the sick. I know that, like anything man-made, it is not perfect, nor are the people inside of it. I KNOW all of that, and truly believe it. But boy, I'm struggling right now. I do know that God will see me through it.
God bless YOU, and enjoy the rest of your weekend!
I have no problems with God, Jesus or the Holy Spirit. I still pray every day, and find my personal faith to be as strong, or stronger, than it has ever been. I am extremely grateful that God healed me in a miraculous fashion (tell any doctor what I've been through the last 18 months, and watch the expression on their face). I feel nothing but gratitude and love towards the Lord. But I sit in church and go crazy inside.
It is interesting to hear someone else preach. I often think of what illustrations I might have used as I listen to them use one to make a point. Thank goodness I don't sit there and try to pick them apart. I am a silent cheerleader, praising each solid point in my mind, and cheering them onward and upward if they seem to be struggling a little bit (been there, done that, not fun or easy!)
The main thing is, I look around and let my mind wander. I get depressed when I see so few young people, and worry that I am worshipping with the last generation of that particular church. I see people, and think of all the petty arguments and back-stabbing that goes on, and how their poor pastor has to put up with and try to control that garbage. Too many people join the church and stop growing immediately. They should serve less fried chicken and more milk at covered dish suppers-lots of baby Christians out their who have already reached retirement age!
I think of how the church picks and chooses what sins to talk about and which ones to ignore-sin is sin, but too many churches want to rail about homosexuality and abortion while ignoring the greed and untruthfulness all around them, and all of the adultery and couples living together without marriage. God does not pick and choose--God loves us all, but hates ALL sin! and we are ALL sinners, not just "them".
I sill love to preach and share God's Word, I guess I'm just struggling a bit. A good friend said that, after all I have been through, it's not unusual or un-expected. So, if you pray, please pray for me. I know the church is not a shrine for the saints, but is a hospital for the sick. I know that, like anything man-made, it is not perfect, nor are the people inside of it. I KNOW all of that, and truly believe it. But boy, I'm struggling right now. I do know that God will see me through it.
God bless YOU, and enjoy the rest of your weekend!
Friday, April 30, 2010
Kate and Mary
Just down the road from my house growing up, there lived two widowed sisters, Kate and Mary. Their house was at the end of a long, wooded road that passed by a small cemetery. I remember pedaling as fast as I could to get by it. But on a rare occasion, I got the nerve to actually stop and read the names on the tombstones. It was an old cemetery, and it had been years since anyone had been buried there.
Kate and Mary's house was beside a cove, but there was no longer any dock out to the water. The sisters loved to tell the story of how their great grandfather refused to take down the Confederate flag when a Union schooner had sailed into the cove. The Union captain was furious, and a cannon ball was fired into the side of the house. The grandfather went out on the porch, shook his fist towards the schooner and yelled "I'm still not taking it down!" Evidently, someone on the ship convinced the captain that this was not worth his time or effort, so the schooner left the cove and the flag remained flying.
I can still remember walking into their house, or really, I should say their huge kitchen, One end was for cooking, while the other had chairs to sit and talk. I can still smell the room: that old, smoky, cook stove smell that is still in the walls today, I am sure. Kate was a large woman, who mostly sat in her chair and led all the discussions. Her cheeks shook when she talked, and old folks back home would say she had "jowls". I remember that every time I came to visit, she had to give me a big hug and a kiss. Mary was a tiny woman, and hardly ever sat down. She was constantly cooking, cleaning, sweeping, doing something active. She joined in the conversations as well, but she always kept moving while she talked.
We would talk about church, about the weather, my father's garden, the health of everyone in the neighborhood, and much more. I was sometimes there for two or three hours at a time. I am convinced that those conversations years ago are a great part of the reason that I have always been able to talk with older people.
Kate and Mary have been gone for many years now. I often wonder what became of their house, and that little cemetery that gave me goosebumps years ago. I also wonder if they ever realized the lasting impact they had upon so many young people in our neighborhood.
Have you had a Kate or a Mary in your life? PLEASE share your memories here.
Have a blessed weekend!
Kate and Mary's house was beside a cove, but there was no longer any dock out to the water. The sisters loved to tell the story of how their great grandfather refused to take down the Confederate flag when a Union schooner had sailed into the cove. The Union captain was furious, and a cannon ball was fired into the side of the house. The grandfather went out on the porch, shook his fist towards the schooner and yelled "I'm still not taking it down!" Evidently, someone on the ship convinced the captain that this was not worth his time or effort, so the schooner left the cove and the flag remained flying.
I can still remember walking into their house, or really, I should say their huge kitchen, One end was for cooking, while the other had chairs to sit and talk. I can still smell the room: that old, smoky, cook stove smell that is still in the walls today, I am sure. Kate was a large woman, who mostly sat in her chair and led all the discussions. Her cheeks shook when she talked, and old folks back home would say she had "jowls". I remember that every time I came to visit, she had to give me a big hug and a kiss. Mary was a tiny woman, and hardly ever sat down. She was constantly cooking, cleaning, sweeping, doing something active. She joined in the conversations as well, but she always kept moving while she talked.
We would talk about church, about the weather, my father's garden, the health of everyone in the neighborhood, and much more. I was sometimes there for two or three hours at a time. I am convinced that those conversations years ago are a great part of the reason that I have always been able to talk with older people.
Kate and Mary have been gone for many years now. I often wonder what became of their house, and that little cemetery that gave me goosebumps years ago. I also wonder if they ever realized the lasting impact they had upon so many young people in our neighborhood.
Have you had a Kate or a Mary in your life? PLEASE share your memories here.
Have a blessed weekend!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Ghosts
Let me be very clear about this: I DO BELIEVE in Ghosts. Now, as to what they are, where they come from, why they are here, I can't answer all that. What I do know is that there are many things out there that we cannot explain. We also have far too many incidents and reports from credible witnesses to dismiss all the claims as just someones imagination or hysteria.
I grew up in a haunted town, that's for sure. The Old House Woods area of Mathews is one of the most recognized haunted areas in the nation, with stories dating back to Revolutionary War days. Ghost ships, soldiers burying gold on the beach, skeleton soldiers on horseback demanding people stop "In the name of the King's Army!!", disappearing waterman and old coins and beer steins left behind. Many books have chronicles the stories; "Virginia Ghosts, Vol.1" by L.B. Taylor, Jr. is one of the best and most easily available.
I have been to Old House Woods many times. When I was around twelve years old, a friend and I ventured into the woods and found an old abandoned house still standing. We went inside,
and found a still smoking cigarette in an ash tray. Someone had just been there, and took off when we came in. We never did see or hear anyone in the house.
One night, as a teenager, my friends and I decided to drive down to Old House Woods to see if anything would happen or appear. As we turned a corner, the front passenger side door flew open. With God as my witness, we could not get that door to close until we turned the car around and headed away from Old House Woods.
One day, as a teenager, I was watching a baseball game on television. On each side of the TV set were windows that faced a neighbor's house. I looked out of the window, and saw my long-time neighbor walk out of his house and get into his car. In a moment, I saw him drive away. A few minutes later, it hit me: he had been DEAD for over five years!! What I saw was a ghost!
Have you ever seen a ghost, or had an encounter that you cannot explain? PLEASE take a moment to share your experiences.
BTW, I have tried, but I just can't blog every day. CBW, I don't know how you do it.
Take care, and have a blessed day!
I grew up in a haunted town, that's for sure. The Old House Woods area of Mathews is one of the most recognized haunted areas in the nation, with stories dating back to Revolutionary War days. Ghost ships, soldiers burying gold on the beach, skeleton soldiers on horseback demanding people stop "In the name of the King's Army!!", disappearing waterman and old coins and beer steins left behind. Many books have chronicles the stories; "Virginia Ghosts, Vol.1" by L.B. Taylor, Jr. is one of the best and most easily available.
I have been to Old House Woods many times. When I was around twelve years old, a friend and I ventured into the woods and found an old abandoned house still standing. We went inside,
and found a still smoking cigarette in an ash tray. Someone had just been there, and took off when we came in. We never did see or hear anyone in the house.
One night, as a teenager, my friends and I decided to drive down to Old House Woods to see if anything would happen or appear. As we turned a corner, the front passenger side door flew open. With God as my witness, we could not get that door to close until we turned the car around and headed away from Old House Woods.
One day, as a teenager, I was watching a baseball game on television. On each side of the TV set were windows that faced a neighbor's house. I looked out of the window, and saw my long-time neighbor walk out of his house and get into his car. In a moment, I saw him drive away. A few minutes later, it hit me: he had been DEAD for over five years!! What I saw was a ghost!
Have you ever seen a ghost, or had an encounter that you cannot explain? PLEASE take a moment to share your experiences.
BTW, I have tried, but I just can't blog every day. CBW, I don't know how you do it.
Take care, and have a blessed day!
Monday, April 19, 2010
Speaking Clearly
Growing up, I had a speech impairment. I had a terrible time with the "thr" sound, so that when I said "three", it sounded like "free". This was long before schools began to offer speech therapy, so I was just kind of stuck with it.
I remember one day in 5th grade, in Mrs. B. Johnson's math class. Mrs. Johnson was originally from New York City, so if you wanted to get her distracted, you just had to ask about NYC. She would get so distracted, we never had to do any math that day. On this day, I had to do a problem in front of the class, and it involved the number three. She laughed at the way I said three, and told the class how lazy and dumb I was. Some laughed, but most just sat there feeling bad for me and ashamed of her. I felt like I must just be dumb and "not good enough".
When I was a junior in high school, my English teacher and my History teacher came up to me together in the hall. One of them said, "We think you would do a good job on the Forensics team as an extemporaneous speaker" There were very IMPOSING figures at our school, and nobody gave these two teachers any trouble (yes, Deputy and McDaniel, my MHS friends!) But, even though I had no idea what extemporaneous even meant, I did hear the word "speaker"-public speaker? Me-what a joke! I looked them both square in the eyes and said 'How can I be a speaker with the way I talk?" I thought they had lost their minds.
But they had not. They responded that they knew some drills that I could practice with them, after-school and at home on my own, that would probably correct the problem. I was willing to try, but wondered if it would really work.
Well, it did. I did o.k. my junior year, and by my senior year, I placed 1st in District, 2nd at Regionals, and 2nd in the state of Virginia for Group A. Our team finished second in the state that year as well, losing to George Mason High School. For me, being able to speak clearly was a life-changing experience. I went on to be student body President of my high school, and was able to use my public speaking skills in college and as a pastor.
My life changed because two teachers cared enough to work with me, as opposed to one who just wanted to make fun of me. This is a big week in Mathews as Mrs. Trusch, our former US government teacher, turn 90 years old. What teachers have made a positive impact on your life?What teachers and/or their comments caused you pain? How have you strived to help others in their lives? Please share with all of us.
Have a blessed day!
I remember one day in 5th grade, in Mrs. B. Johnson's math class. Mrs. Johnson was originally from New York City, so if you wanted to get her distracted, you just had to ask about NYC. She would get so distracted, we never had to do any math that day. On this day, I had to do a problem in front of the class, and it involved the number three. She laughed at the way I said three, and told the class how lazy and dumb I was. Some laughed, but most just sat there feeling bad for me and ashamed of her. I felt like I must just be dumb and "not good enough".
When I was a junior in high school, my English teacher and my History teacher came up to me together in the hall. One of them said, "We think you would do a good job on the Forensics team as an extemporaneous speaker" There were very IMPOSING figures at our school, and nobody gave these two teachers any trouble (yes, Deputy and McDaniel, my MHS friends!) But, even though I had no idea what extemporaneous even meant, I did hear the word "speaker"-public speaker? Me-what a joke! I looked them both square in the eyes and said 'How can I be a speaker with the way I talk?" I thought they had lost their minds.
But they had not. They responded that they knew some drills that I could practice with them, after-school and at home on my own, that would probably correct the problem. I was willing to try, but wondered if it would really work.
Well, it did. I did o.k. my junior year, and by my senior year, I placed 1st in District, 2nd at Regionals, and 2nd in the state of Virginia for Group A. Our team finished second in the state that year as well, losing to George Mason High School. For me, being able to speak clearly was a life-changing experience. I went on to be student body President of my high school, and was able to use my public speaking skills in college and as a pastor.
My life changed because two teachers cared enough to work with me, as opposed to one who just wanted to make fun of me. This is a big week in Mathews as Mrs. Trusch, our former US government teacher, turn 90 years old. What teachers have made a positive impact on your life?What teachers and/or their comments caused you pain? How have you strived to help others in their lives? Please share with all of us.
Have a blessed day!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
We Remember
One the first day of Jacqueline's freshman year at Virginia Tech, police and state troopers burst into the auditorium and rushed the students out because there was a shooter on campus. They had to run outside with their hands above their heads so that the police would know they were not armed. At one point, they had to crouch down behind a hilly sidewalk until the police were sure it was clear.
That Spring, on April 16th, the massacre took place. Jacqueline had come home for the weekend to watch the family dog while we were in Atlanta with Kenny for his spring break. As Vickie took her down to school that morning, word came over the radio that two people had been shot, and that the campus was shut down. By the time they turned around at Ironto to come back to Salem, word was coming in that more had been shot. Ten-then a few minutes later, 12-then 22, then the final, ungodly total: 32 killed, plus the shooter had killed himself.
I was on my way to work in Lynchburg that morning. I stopped at Moneta to just sit and cry and compose myself. By the time I got to Lynchburg, the church phone was ringing constantly, more like an alarm than a bell. Everyone asked the same thing, "Is Jacqueline o.k.?" After a few minutes, I just told my secretary to answer the phone, and don't worry about anything else that day. I got back in the car, and drove to Salem as fast as I could.
That night, and the next few days, seemed unreal. We all gathered at Cassell and the football stadium to watch as Gov. Kaine and President Bush came to speak at the memorial service. I was not a fan of President Bush (ok, at least TRY to hold your laughter!) but he did a wonderful job that day, and it really came from his heart. The campus was somber, stunned, heart-broken.
We went to the wonderful make-shift memorial set up on the Drill Field, and we took a bouquet of 32 balloons to add. The Roanoke Times has a video (or at least they did) that includes a shot of those balloons, blowing in the wind.
Jacqueline will graduate in May. Eight of her Class of 2010 classmates were among those killed that day. Perhaps you think I make too much of all of this. But I could have easily lost MY baby girl that day, and I quite frankly don't know how I would have survived that.
April has never been a very popular month, due to taxes. The last few years have seen tragedies that have marred the month as well, from Waco to Columbine, and who would have ever believed it, Virginia Tech.
Please remember the fallen on Friday. Wear a Hokie shirt if you have one. And don't be surprised if you see folks who, for no reason, seem to have a tear in their eye.
We took a walk at the beautiful yet simple permanent memorial Sunday night. It still really hurts.
That's it for this week. I'll write something again on Monday. Have a blessed week and weekend!
That Spring, on April 16th, the massacre took place. Jacqueline had come home for the weekend to watch the family dog while we were in Atlanta with Kenny for his spring break. As Vickie took her down to school that morning, word came over the radio that two people had been shot, and that the campus was shut down. By the time they turned around at Ironto to come back to Salem, word was coming in that more had been shot. Ten-then a few minutes later, 12-then 22, then the final, ungodly total: 32 killed, plus the shooter had killed himself.
I was on my way to work in Lynchburg that morning. I stopped at Moneta to just sit and cry and compose myself. By the time I got to Lynchburg, the church phone was ringing constantly, more like an alarm than a bell. Everyone asked the same thing, "Is Jacqueline o.k.?" After a few minutes, I just told my secretary to answer the phone, and don't worry about anything else that day. I got back in the car, and drove to Salem as fast as I could.
That night, and the next few days, seemed unreal. We all gathered at Cassell and the football stadium to watch as Gov. Kaine and President Bush came to speak at the memorial service. I was not a fan of President Bush (ok, at least TRY to hold your laughter!) but he did a wonderful job that day, and it really came from his heart. The campus was somber, stunned, heart-broken.
We went to the wonderful make-shift memorial set up on the Drill Field, and we took a bouquet of 32 balloons to add. The Roanoke Times has a video (or at least they did) that includes a shot of those balloons, blowing in the wind.
Jacqueline will graduate in May. Eight of her Class of 2010 classmates were among those killed that day. Perhaps you think I make too much of all of this. But I could have easily lost MY baby girl that day, and I quite frankly don't know how I would have survived that.
April has never been a very popular month, due to taxes. The last few years have seen tragedies that have marred the month as well, from Waco to Columbine, and who would have ever believed it, Virginia Tech.
Please remember the fallen on Friday. Wear a Hokie shirt if you have one. And don't be surprised if you see folks who, for no reason, seem to have a tear in their eye.
We took a walk at the beautiful yet simple permanent memorial Sunday night. It still really hurts.
That's it for this week. I'll write something again on Monday. Have a blessed week and weekend!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Don't Throw It All Away, Our Love
After over two decades in the ministry, as well as counseling couples, I see three things that will quickly destroy a marriage. Poor communication, disputes over money, and a dead sex life.
Today, I want to focus on the "dead sex life" part. Sex in marriage is one of God's greatest gifts. It should be something that helps unite couples, in good and bad times. Unfortunately, a good sex life is often one of the first things to go downhill in a marriage. Someone once said "the best way to ruin your sex life is to get married". Isn't that a shame? it certainly is not what God intended.
For men and women: if you are constantly using the excuse "I'm too tired for sex" then YOU have to change your schedule. Unless you don't mind wasting one of God's greatest gifts between a man and a woman. It is the whole realm of the sexual experience, from the anticipation to the foreplay to the act and completion, that helps bond a husband and wife as one. To deny it, or constantly rush through it, greatly reduces it specialness
Some plain advice. MEN-if you want your spouse to be excited about being intimate with you, leave the "Wham-Bam-Thank You, Ma mm" approach for locker room talk or the movies. Nothing kills a woman's desire to have sex faster than a man who only seems interested in his own orgasm. Learn to really love your wife-ever read the Psalm of Psalms? The whole book is about a couple learning to really love each other, and taking time to get to know what brings pleasure to the other, and not just concentrate on one's self. Explore her body, learn what she likes and does not like. A man who really loves his wife will be as excited to bring her to a climax as he is to get his own.
For WOMEN: Guess what? It really turns us off when you lay there like you're a bump on a log, and guess again, we know when you are "faking it". Again, know your husband, and what he likes and does not like. And don't treat your body like a sexual "mine field". One wrong touch by your husband, and suddenly the whole night is ruined. That doesn't mean to do things that you are uncomfortable with. But just guide him, put his hands (or whatever) where you do want them, and don't act like he has tried to assault you if he has not. I am amazed and saddened by the number of men who are almost scared of their wives's body because, as they have shared with me, they feel like they are "walking on egg shells" Also, if you tell your husband you would be more inclined to enjoy sex if he helped around the house more, live up to that. Also, don't require that everything in life be perfect (house spotless, every possible thing done) before you can have sex. Sex is a gift that helps us deal with life's highs and lows: it is not intended to only be had at times when everything is "perfect"--that junk is for the movies and Harlequin romance books.
Well, you either agree with me, or I ticked you off. Good either way, because at least I got you thinking. PLEASE share your thoughts and comments.
Have a blessed day!
Today, I want to focus on the "dead sex life" part. Sex in marriage is one of God's greatest gifts. It should be something that helps unite couples, in good and bad times. Unfortunately, a good sex life is often one of the first things to go downhill in a marriage. Someone once said "the best way to ruin your sex life is to get married". Isn't that a shame? it certainly is not what God intended.
For men and women: if you are constantly using the excuse "I'm too tired for sex" then YOU have to change your schedule. Unless you don't mind wasting one of God's greatest gifts between a man and a woman. It is the whole realm of the sexual experience, from the anticipation to the foreplay to the act and completion, that helps bond a husband and wife as one. To deny it, or constantly rush through it, greatly reduces it specialness
Some plain advice. MEN-if you want your spouse to be excited about being intimate with you, leave the "Wham-Bam-Thank You, Ma mm" approach for locker room talk or the movies. Nothing kills a woman's desire to have sex faster than a man who only seems interested in his own orgasm. Learn to really love your wife-ever read the Psalm of Psalms? The whole book is about a couple learning to really love each other, and taking time to get to know what brings pleasure to the other, and not just concentrate on one's self. Explore her body, learn what she likes and does not like. A man who really loves his wife will be as excited to bring her to a climax as he is to get his own.
For WOMEN: Guess what? It really turns us off when you lay there like you're a bump on a log, and guess again, we know when you are "faking it". Again, know your husband, and what he likes and does not like. And don't treat your body like a sexual "mine field". One wrong touch by your husband, and suddenly the whole night is ruined. That doesn't mean to do things that you are uncomfortable with. But just guide him, put his hands (or whatever) where you do want them, and don't act like he has tried to assault you if he has not. I am amazed and saddened by the number of men who are almost scared of their wives's body because, as they have shared with me, they feel like they are "walking on egg shells" Also, if you tell your husband you would be more inclined to enjoy sex if he helped around the house more, live up to that. Also, don't require that everything in life be perfect (house spotless, every possible thing done) before you can have sex. Sex is a gift that helps us deal with life's highs and lows: it is not intended to only be had at times when everything is "perfect"--that junk is for the movies and Harlequin romance books.
Well, you either agree with me, or I ticked you off. Good either way, because at least I got you thinking. PLEASE share your thoughts and comments.
Have a blessed day!
Monday, April 12, 2010
Doctor, Doctor
Having been away for almost 25 years now, I am amazed to look back and realize how many wonderful, dedicated doctors we had for such a small town.
Dr. Bowles was a graduate of the University of Virginia Medical School. He took care of my whole family throughout the years, and made house calls, as did most of the doctors in town at that time. $5.00 for a visit, $8 for a visit and a shot!
When I was a toddler, I developed a taste for St. Joseph's Children's Aspirin, you, the orange flavored, chewable ones? Well, one day when my mother was not looking, I found the bottle. Of course, this was long before child-proof caps. My mother told me later that she found me, holding the empty bottle, and asked "Where are all the pills?" I just looked up at her, pointed to my mouth and said "Gone".
My parents loaded me into the car and rushed me up to town to Dr. Bowles office. They say that he quickly pumped my stomach, then began pacing the floor, smoking cigarette after cigarette as he hoped he had gotten the pills out in time.
Years later, as a preteen, I began to have unusual pains in my side, and was sick alot. I was taken to Riverside Hospital in Newport News, where multiple tests were run. When they couldn't find anything, I remember being in bed as the doctors came to my hospital room door and told my mother "It's all in his head". I went back home, and within a week, I was at Dr. Bowles office again. He dismissed Riverside's actions, and decided to run his own tests. He was the one that found out I had diabetes. A hospital had missed it, but the old country doctor found it!
When I was a senior in high school, I went to Dr. Bowles one day for my college physical. When he was finished, he stopped me at the door and said, "We are really proud of you. I know you will do well". You see, I was the first one in my family to go to college. I really appreciated what he said that day.
Well, it's been a long day, but I have more doctor stories to come. Hudgins, Ransone (young and old), Stewart, Reed and maybe some others.
PLEASE take a moment to share YOUR stories and memories, especially of the doctors I have mentioned here, or the ones when you were growing up. From "Purple People Eaters" to ear-piercings, you have a lot to share.
Be blessed!
Dr. Bowles was a graduate of the University of Virginia Medical School. He took care of my whole family throughout the years, and made house calls, as did most of the doctors in town at that time. $5.00 for a visit, $8 for a visit and a shot!
When I was a toddler, I developed a taste for St. Joseph's Children's Aspirin, you, the orange flavored, chewable ones? Well, one day when my mother was not looking, I found the bottle. Of course, this was long before child-proof caps. My mother told me later that she found me, holding the empty bottle, and asked "Where are all the pills?" I just looked up at her, pointed to my mouth and said "Gone".
My parents loaded me into the car and rushed me up to town to Dr. Bowles office. They say that he quickly pumped my stomach, then began pacing the floor, smoking cigarette after cigarette as he hoped he had gotten the pills out in time.
Years later, as a preteen, I began to have unusual pains in my side, and was sick alot. I was taken to Riverside Hospital in Newport News, where multiple tests were run. When they couldn't find anything, I remember being in bed as the doctors came to my hospital room door and told my mother "It's all in his head". I went back home, and within a week, I was at Dr. Bowles office again. He dismissed Riverside's actions, and decided to run his own tests. He was the one that found out I had diabetes. A hospital had missed it, but the old country doctor found it!
When I was a senior in high school, I went to Dr. Bowles one day for my college physical. When he was finished, he stopped me at the door and said, "We are really proud of you. I know you will do well". You see, I was the first one in my family to go to college. I really appreciated what he said that day.
Well, it's been a long day, but I have more doctor stories to come. Hudgins, Ransone (young and old), Stewart, Reed and maybe some others.
PLEASE take a moment to share YOUR stories and memories, especially of the doctors I have mentioned here, or the ones when you were growing up. From "Purple People Eaters" to ear-piercings, you have a lot to share.
Be blessed!
Friday, April 9, 2010
Why Bother?
Why bother standing up for what is right, when it is so much easier to remain quiet and just go along with the crowd? Why say anything, knowing that even if you are standing for what is right and what your beliefs have taught you, that some will attack you, even good friends and members of your family?
WHY? Because if you and I don''t stand up for what is right, our silence is a quiet endorsement of the wrong-doing and evil we see around us. When we refuse to demand the truth and all of the facts, the lies and deceptions become accepted as the truth.
Don't let others speak for you; speak for yourself. Don't let others tell you what to believe; find out the facts and the truth for yourself. Be true to what God intended you to be. Live by love, stand up for what is right.
Have a blessed weekend!
WHY? Because if you and I don''t stand up for what is right, our silence is a quiet endorsement of the wrong-doing and evil we see around us. When we refuse to demand the truth and all of the facts, the lies and deceptions become accepted as the truth.
Don't let others speak for you; speak for yourself. Don't let others tell you what to believe; find out the facts and the truth for yourself. Be true to what God intended you to be. Live by love, stand up for what is right.
Have a blessed weekend!
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Tigers, Rebels, and Protesters
Today I want to just share some thoughts on current events; feel free to agree or disagree, but as the preface says, be kind.
1. I am disgusted by all of the gushing over Tiger Woods at the Masters. I can't enjoy the man's golf game if I can't respect the man. It is not my job to forgive him; hopefully he has already gotten straight with God and his wife. But if he wants me to watch him play, and wants me to buy products from his sponsors, I want to see a REAL, LASTING change- give it a year or so of staying home, keeping it there with his wife, and THEN we can talk about real remorse.
2. I was sad to see our Governor make the mistake of proclaiming this month "Confederate History Month" in Virginia. We don't need to celebrate succeeding from the Union, especially since the main reason we did was to protect the horrible institution of slavery. Nobody got upset about "states rights" until they thought slavery would be taken away.
I didn't vote for our governor, but neither do I think he is a bad guy. Whether you support or are against the proclamation, everybody knew the minute he issued it, especially when he at first failed to mention slavery, or that the South was WRONG (will we ever admit that?) to succeed, that it would cause an uproar. Why not just let it stay a dead issue?
3. Tomorrow the so-called "Christians" from Westborough Baptist Church will descend upon Blacksburg with their sick message of hate as they "celebrate" the deaths of the 33 who died in the VT shootings, and the murder of Morgan Harrington. They will be met by a thousands strong counter protest, showing that God is a God of LOVE, not hate. I had planned to be there, but my health will not permit me to go. Lets be in prayer for the protesters and the counter-protesters, that it will be peaceful, and that real love will win out.
Let me know what you think, or any other topics you want to discuss. If you like this blog, PLEASE share it with your friends.
Have a blessed day!
1. I am disgusted by all of the gushing over Tiger Woods at the Masters. I can't enjoy the man's golf game if I can't respect the man. It is not my job to forgive him; hopefully he has already gotten straight with God and his wife. But if he wants me to watch him play, and wants me to buy products from his sponsors, I want to see a REAL, LASTING change- give it a year or so of staying home, keeping it there with his wife, and THEN we can talk about real remorse.
2. I was sad to see our Governor make the mistake of proclaiming this month "Confederate History Month" in Virginia. We don't need to celebrate succeeding from the Union, especially since the main reason we did was to protect the horrible institution of slavery. Nobody got upset about "states rights" until they thought slavery would be taken away.
I didn't vote for our governor, but neither do I think he is a bad guy. Whether you support or are against the proclamation, everybody knew the minute he issued it, especially when he at first failed to mention slavery, or that the South was WRONG (will we ever admit that?) to succeed, that it would cause an uproar. Why not just let it stay a dead issue?
3. Tomorrow the so-called "Christians" from Westborough Baptist Church will descend upon Blacksburg with their sick message of hate as they "celebrate" the deaths of the 33 who died in the VT shootings, and the murder of Morgan Harrington. They will be met by a thousands strong counter protest, showing that God is a God of LOVE, not hate. I had planned to be there, but my health will not permit me to go. Lets be in prayer for the protesters and the counter-protesters, that it will be peaceful, and that real love will win out.
Let me know what you think, or any other topics you want to discuss. If you like this blog, PLEASE share it with your friends.
Have a blessed day!
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Watching Them Grow
One of the joys of getting older is to be able to look back and take note of how the young people you have worked with over the years have grown. People who were only eleven or twelve years old when I first met them are now doctors, nurses, teachers, dentists, engineers, scientists, and much more.
This past weekend was a real treat. We spent the weekend in Orange County, VA and saw lots of former members of our youth group, all now grown up, with jobs and families. We stayed with our "God daughter" (no, her parents did not pick us, but God put us all together). We have known her since she was eleven years old. Her life got off to a rough start, but she has overcome all of that and now has a wonderful husband and children, and a beautiful home. Most importantly, she has one of the most loving spirits I have ever encountered. She has run her own preschool until this year, and now substitutes at the local elementary school. Her husband started working at a local auto parts store as a young teenager, went to college, and has now bought the store and has a thriving business. They have become part of our family, and it is a real joy and blessing.
Saturday morning we went to an Easter egg hunt at the home of some of their friends. While there, we saw some other folks who were teenagers when we were at the church there. We talked about their jobs, about their kids, about coaching baseball, and just about everyday life. It was wonderful to see how they have grown and matured and become responsible, happy adults.
On Sunday, I had the privilege of bringing the Easter message at a church near Ruckersville.
I was able to participate as my niece and her fiance joined the church, and as he and their young son were baptized. My niece has not had an easy life either, but she has moved on from her past and is working hard to make a family, while going to work everyday and taking classes for college as well.
I doubt I will ever be rich as far as material things go. We often think that, if we just had lots of money, we could fix so much. Money is a help, no doubt. But I have learned that, if one is rich in love, much good can be accomplished as well. "Love One Another"-NEVER underestimate that.
Have a blessed day!
This past weekend was a real treat. We spent the weekend in Orange County, VA and saw lots of former members of our youth group, all now grown up, with jobs and families. We stayed with our "God daughter" (no, her parents did not pick us, but God put us all together). We have known her since she was eleven years old. Her life got off to a rough start, but she has overcome all of that and now has a wonderful husband and children, and a beautiful home. Most importantly, she has one of the most loving spirits I have ever encountered. She has run her own preschool until this year, and now substitutes at the local elementary school. Her husband started working at a local auto parts store as a young teenager, went to college, and has now bought the store and has a thriving business. They have become part of our family, and it is a real joy and blessing.
Saturday morning we went to an Easter egg hunt at the home of some of their friends. While there, we saw some other folks who were teenagers when we were at the church there. We talked about their jobs, about their kids, about coaching baseball, and just about everyday life. It was wonderful to see how they have grown and matured and become responsible, happy adults.
On Sunday, I had the privilege of bringing the Easter message at a church near Ruckersville.
I was able to participate as my niece and her fiance joined the church, and as he and their young son were baptized. My niece has not had an easy life either, but she has moved on from her past and is working hard to make a family, while going to work everyday and taking classes for college as well.
I doubt I will ever be rich as far as material things go. We often think that, if we just had lots of money, we could fix so much. Money is a help, no doubt. But I have learned that, if one is rich in love, much good can be accomplished as well. "Love One Another"-NEVER underestimate that.
Have a blessed day!
Monday, April 5, 2010
A New Birth, Conclusion
The day finally arrived to go to the airport and meet Lisa and her father. I remember seeing Rob walk down the corridor, and since I had seen him in pictures and talked to him often over the years, it seemed pretty normal. Then, back a few feet, I saw Lisa. I felt stunned to finally see her in the flesh. It was a hot and muggy August Virginia day, and she was overdressed (remember, even in the summer, it is not unusual to need a jacket in San Francisco) We all greeted and hugged, then Lisa joked that she needed to go somewhere and get some cooler clothes. We went to a nearby mall. and she and Jacqueline went off to shop. The three adults stood back and watched as they walked away. They walked EXACTLY the same. Both soon reappeared, complained that 1. the mall was mostly winter clothes now, and 2. what they had was over-priced. SO, off we headed to Wal-mart for some shorts and t-shirts.
Some of our family came in to visit, as did some of our friends. Our house was small, so Lisa and Robert stayed at a nearby hotel at night, and spent the rest of the time at our house. It never felt awkward, just amazing. We took them around Roanoke and showed them the sights.
Finally the day arrived to go to church. Everyone was very gracious. During the service, we have a part called "Joys and Celebrations" It is a time to share something good that has happened that week. Rob stood up and took the microphone, and began to talk about what an experience the whole process had been, and what a blessing it was. Talk about surreal!
Since then, we have visited back and forth. A friend and I stayed with Lisa and her family went we went to a Virginia Tech bowl game in San Francisco. Then, we spent a two week vacation in SF a few years ago, and stayed at Rob's apartment. Lisa has visited out here again as well, and when I got deathly ill last year, Lisa and Rob flew out to spend a week with me at the hospital.
I know I must be missing stuff, so if you have questions, feel free to ask. Just know that it has been an incredible and wonderful journey, and that we have been blessed to have Lisa, and to have her in our lives.
Let me know your thoughts.
have a blessed day!
Some of our family came in to visit, as did some of our friends. Our house was small, so Lisa and Robert stayed at a nearby hotel at night, and spent the rest of the time at our house. It never felt awkward, just amazing. We took them around Roanoke and showed them the sights.
Finally the day arrived to go to church. Everyone was very gracious. During the service, we have a part called "Joys and Celebrations" It is a time to share something good that has happened that week. Rob stood up and took the microphone, and began to talk about what an experience the whole process had been, and what a blessing it was. Talk about surreal!
Since then, we have visited back and forth. A friend and I stayed with Lisa and her family went we went to a Virginia Tech bowl game in San Francisco. Then, we spent a two week vacation in SF a few years ago, and stayed at Rob's apartment. Lisa has visited out here again as well, and when I got deathly ill last year, Lisa and Rob flew out to spend a week with me at the hospital.
I know I must be missing stuff, so if you have questions, feel free to ask. Just know that it has been an incredible and wonderful journey, and that we have been blessed to have Lisa, and to have her in our lives.
Let me know your thoughts.
have a blessed day!
Friday, April 2, 2010
Time Out
Thanks for reading. I intended to finish the story of meeting our birth daughter today, but I am having some health issues, and want to wait till I feel better so I can do a good job.
I'll be back in a day or two, hopefully.
Have a blessed holiday weekend-give thanks to God for Jesus Christ!
I'll be back in a day or two, hopefully.
Have a blessed holiday weekend-give thanks to God for Jesus Christ!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
A New Birth, Part II
The time finally arrived when our birth daughter. Lisa, turned 18. It was December of her senior year in high school, and she was a very active and involved student. In talking with her parents, we decided to wait a few more months to have our first phone call and meeting. All four of us agreed that, with school and applying for college, we didn't want to add to her stress.
Unfortunately, she got the impression that we did not WANT to meet her. Sometimes things get "lost in translation". When we realized that she thought that, we got on the phone IMMEDIATELY and called her, to let her know that was NEVER our intention.
You want to talk about surreal? I remember hearing her voice on the phone for the first time. I was so scared that she would hate us for giving her up, that she would not understand why or how we did so. But she was wonderful, and very understanding. You could tell just talking to her what a wonderful job her parents had done. Soon we set up a time for her and her father to coome out to Virginia and visit us. She was excited to meet us, and our children, and to get to come to church to hear me preach.
The first people to tell were our children. We called my daughter into the living room and told her we had something to tell her. No, we said, we are not getting a divorce. Her reply stunned us: "Oh, are you gonna tell me you guys had a love child?" We were floored-she was just making a joke, but she could tell right away by our stunned expressions that, yes, that was the case. She went to her room and cried for awhile, then slowly asked questions about the whole thing over the next few days. Our son was excited to learn that he had another sister. Of couse, he was full of questions, too.
Well, now I had to tell some other people about all of this. Being a fairly smart UMC minister, one of the first people I called was my District Superintendent. He was very understanding, his main concern was how my church would react. I then called together the members of the Pastor-Parish Committee and laid out the whole story. They were behind us 100%. Then, the next Sunday, at the end of the service, I asked everyone to sit back down, that I had something to tell them. I started off by joking that "No, I have not committed a crime and I'm not going to jail" When the laughter stopped, I told them our story, and that in two weeks, Lisa and her father would be with us in church. I finished with a prayer, then headed for the backdoor to greet people.
Now, I think it would be fair for me and the church to say that our four years together were often difficult. But they could not have been more kind and loving in their response to us. Oh, I heard a few whispers, but fewer than I expected. Remember, I am a minster. I know fully well that the church can sometimes become the most un-Christian place to be. Sad, but it happens sometimes.
Tomorrow I will talk about that first meeting and visit, and the blessing that all of this has been.
As Clarence Goodbody told George Bailey "You really had a wonderful life!"
God bless.
Unfortunately, she got the impression that we did not WANT to meet her. Sometimes things get "lost in translation". When we realized that she thought that, we got on the phone IMMEDIATELY and called her, to let her know that was NEVER our intention.
You want to talk about surreal? I remember hearing her voice on the phone for the first time. I was so scared that she would hate us for giving her up, that she would not understand why or how we did so. But she was wonderful, and very understanding. You could tell just talking to her what a wonderful job her parents had done. Soon we set up a time for her and her father to coome out to Virginia and visit us. She was excited to meet us, and our children, and to get to come to church to hear me preach.
The first people to tell were our children. We called my daughter into the living room and told her we had something to tell her. No, we said, we are not getting a divorce. Her reply stunned us: "Oh, are you gonna tell me you guys had a love child?" We were floored-she was just making a joke, but she could tell right away by our stunned expressions that, yes, that was the case. She went to her room and cried for awhile, then slowly asked questions about the whole thing over the next few days. Our son was excited to learn that he had another sister. Of couse, he was full of questions, too.
Well, now I had to tell some other people about all of this. Being a fairly smart UMC minister, one of the first people I called was my District Superintendent. He was very understanding, his main concern was how my church would react. I then called together the members of the Pastor-Parish Committee and laid out the whole story. They were behind us 100%. Then, the next Sunday, at the end of the service, I asked everyone to sit back down, that I had something to tell them. I started off by joking that "No, I have not committed a crime and I'm not going to jail" When the laughter stopped, I told them our story, and that in two weeks, Lisa and her father would be with us in church. I finished with a prayer, then headed for the backdoor to greet people.
Now, I think it would be fair for me and the church to say that our four years together were often difficult. But they could not have been more kind and loving in their response to us. Oh, I heard a few whispers, but fewer than I expected. Remember, I am a minster. I know fully well that the church can sometimes become the most un-Christian place to be. Sad, but it happens sometimes.
Tomorrow I will talk about that first meeting and visit, and the blessing that all of this has been.
As Clarence Goodbody told George Bailey "You really had a wonderful life!"
God bless.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
A New Birth, Part I
Before I begin, let me say that I in no way am trying to judge the decisions that other people have made in similar circumstances. Like the old song says, "walk a mile in my shoes".
When my wife and I were sophomores in college, she became pregnant. We had no money, and no job skills. We both had loving families, but we knew we were not ready to get married.
Abortion was an option "on paper", but was never really an option for us. We decided that we would give the baby up for adoption. She contacted a church adoption agency, and we decided to do an open adoption. We arranged for a couple in San Diego to adopt our child. However, several months before she was born, the couple had a chance to adopt another baby. They then realized how much work one child was, and decided they could not handle two so young.
My future wife had gone home to send the summer and fall there before she gave birth. I still remember vividly the night she called and said the couple had backed out. It was a long weekend until we could talk to the agency again. They assured us that plenty of wonderful couples would love to have our child, and they sent us letters and pictures that the couples had submitted.
One couple, this time from San Francisco, really stood out. She was a nurse, he was a medical professional, and they struck us as the kind of folks we wanted to be 10 or 20 years down the road. We called and talked to them, and felt they would be good parents.
When the time came for the birth, my wife and her mom flew out to San Francisco, so that the couple could be there when the baby was born. She and her mom stayed for a few days after the birth, then flew back home.
We talked with the couple a few times each year, and they usually sent a set of pictures to us each year. When our birth daughter turned 18, she and her dad flew out to Virginia to meet us.
More about that tomorrow in part II.
Someone at church, unaware of our history, once made the comment that she did not understand how "anyone who loved their baby could give it up for adoption". She meant no harm, she just felt puzzled that anyone could do that. My reply was simply "sometimes you love your baby enough to realize you cannot take care of them as you should."
And please remember this: Our baby was NEVER a mistake; the only mistake was our poor planning and failure to wait.
I look forward to sharing about meeting her tomorrow.
Have a blessed day!
When my wife and I were sophomores in college, she became pregnant. We had no money, and no job skills. We both had loving families, but we knew we were not ready to get married.
Abortion was an option "on paper", but was never really an option for us. We decided that we would give the baby up for adoption. She contacted a church adoption agency, and we decided to do an open adoption. We arranged for a couple in San Diego to adopt our child. However, several months before she was born, the couple had a chance to adopt another baby. They then realized how much work one child was, and decided they could not handle two so young.
My future wife had gone home to send the summer and fall there before she gave birth. I still remember vividly the night she called and said the couple had backed out. It was a long weekend until we could talk to the agency again. They assured us that plenty of wonderful couples would love to have our child, and they sent us letters and pictures that the couples had submitted.
One couple, this time from San Francisco, really stood out. She was a nurse, he was a medical professional, and they struck us as the kind of folks we wanted to be 10 or 20 years down the road. We called and talked to them, and felt they would be good parents.
When the time came for the birth, my wife and her mom flew out to San Francisco, so that the couple could be there when the baby was born. She and her mom stayed for a few days after the birth, then flew back home.
We talked with the couple a few times each year, and they usually sent a set of pictures to us each year. When our birth daughter turned 18, she and her dad flew out to Virginia to meet us.
More about that tomorrow in part II.
Someone at church, unaware of our history, once made the comment that she did not understand how "anyone who loved their baby could give it up for adoption". She meant no harm, she just felt puzzled that anyone could do that. My reply was simply "sometimes you love your baby enough to realize you cannot take care of them as you should."
And please remember this: Our baby was NEVER a mistake; the only mistake was our poor planning and failure to wait.
I look forward to sharing about meeting her tomorrow.
Have a blessed day!
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The Adventures of Super Woman
I remember standing at the altar of my home church, looking down the aisle as my bride to be prepared to walk down and join me. She said the look on my face made her think I was about to turn and run out the side door. In fact, I was just trying to hold myself together as I thought about the fact that after five years together, we were finally about to be wed. I was choked up, not choking.
This May will mark our 24th anniversary. We have had our ups and downs, and there have been times when the flame has gone down to little more than a spark. The love was always there, but all the "junk" of life conspired to pull us down and apart, and neither of us really seemed to know how to get back to where we once had been.
If nothing else, we had found a "routine". Now, routine can be a good word-it can help bring balance and order to every day life. But routine in a marriage sucks. That screams boredom to me, just existing together, not much more.
Boy, has the last year changed that!! Nothing has been routine. My wife had to take over everything-hard to help much from your near-death bed. She suddenly was in charge of paying all the bills, finding all the stuff I had stuck away for taxes, and much more. She took time off from work to be with me from morning to night at the hospital EVERY day. When her family leave finally ran out, she would go to work, come to the rehab at lunchtime to eat with me, go back to work, then come have dinner with me and visit into the night. Plus, she took care of our son, got him where he needed to be, and kept everyone across town and across the country up to date on my condition, through e-mail and Facebook.
Most of all, there is no doubt in my mind that my wife saved my life. It was her prodding and pushing that kept the doctors looking for something to do that would save me. I know that I am here because of a miracle of God and thousands of prayers. But rest assured, had she not been there and used her nursing knowledge to aid my care and to challenge decisions, I would not be here today.
Besides being alive to be with my family, the greatest blessing has been the restoration of our relationship. We are closer than we have been in years-the old "junk" has been pushed aside and disposed of. Almost losing the one you love sure helps clear the mind and reminds you of what is really important.
Today is her birthday. Thanks for all the cards. She would not let me throw her a party, she didn't want "all that fuss". We will celebrate later this week. I thank God for a good woman who has stood by me and stayed with me through thick and thin.
Have a great day!
This May will mark our 24th anniversary. We have had our ups and downs, and there have been times when the flame has gone down to little more than a spark. The love was always there, but all the "junk" of life conspired to pull us down and apart, and neither of us really seemed to know how to get back to where we once had been.
If nothing else, we had found a "routine". Now, routine can be a good word-it can help bring balance and order to every day life. But routine in a marriage sucks. That screams boredom to me, just existing together, not much more.
Boy, has the last year changed that!! Nothing has been routine. My wife had to take over everything-hard to help much from your near-death bed. She suddenly was in charge of paying all the bills, finding all the stuff I had stuck away for taxes, and much more. She took time off from work to be with me from morning to night at the hospital EVERY day. When her family leave finally ran out, she would go to work, come to the rehab at lunchtime to eat with me, go back to work, then come have dinner with me and visit into the night. Plus, she took care of our son, got him where he needed to be, and kept everyone across town and across the country up to date on my condition, through e-mail and Facebook.
Most of all, there is no doubt in my mind that my wife saved my life. It was her prodding and pushing that kept the doctors looking for something to do that would save me. I know that I am here because of a miracle of God and thousands of prayers. But rest assured, had she not been there and used her nursing knowledge to aid my care and to challenge decisions, I would not be here today.
Besides being alive to be with my family, the greatest blessing has been the restoration of our relationship. We are closer than we have been in years-the old "junk" has been pushed aside and disposed of. Almost losing the one you love sure helps clear the mind and reminds you of what is really important.
Today is her birthday. Thanks for all the cards. She would not let me throw her a party, she didn't want "all that fuss". We will celebrate later this week. I thank God for a good woman who has stood by me and stayed with me through thick and thin.
Have a great day!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Back Home Again
Hard to believe, but my daughter will be graduating from Virginia Tech in May. Her degree will be in Psychology, with a minor in History. She plans to work for a year before going to grad school. Hopefully, thanks to the new healthcare reform bill, I can keep her on my insurance for a few more years until she finishes her Master's degree and can get more established on her own.
I expect that, sometime after graduation, expenses will be more or most of her paycheck, and she will have to move home again, at least until she starts grad school. I look forward to having her home, but I also know it will be a real period of adjustment for all of us. It should be interesting.
Have a blessed day!
I expect that, sometime after graduation, expenses will be more or most of her paycheck, and she will have to move home again, at least until she starts grad school. I look forward to having her home, but I also know it will be a real period of adjustment for all of us. It should be interesting.
Have a blessed day!
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Taking a Stand
There come times in life where people of character are called to make a stand. You can either stand up for what is right, or you can stand idly by. Be assured that some will attack you for taking a stand, even for what is right.
I remember one of the first churches I served. It became evident that the children of one of the family's in the church were being abused. Bruises, burns, broken bones, mentally and physically.
The abuser, the children's mother, was involved in Scouting, taught Sunday School, and was involved in numerous community activities, including working at a local nursery school. The school jumped in before I could, and contacted Social Services. When I asked the church board to request that she step down from working with children until it was resolved, I became the bad guy. One chilling comment has struck me to this day: "Well, she can keep working with the kids. She never hits our kids" There were court hearings, and I had to say what I had seen. I found myself pitted against church members who came to testify on the mother's behalf. It was a nightmare, but I had to stand up for those kids.
I was reminded of standing up for what is right when today I was informed that Westboro Baptist Church (if you can call them a church), known for it's "God Hates Fags" website and veteran's funeral protest, is coming to Virginia Tech on April 9th to "celebrate" the April 16, 2007 shootings that left 33 people dead. They claim God sent the shooter to show God's displeasure with the United States. Their pastor has stated that he "wishes it could have been 33,000" Sick.
A peaceful counter protest is planned, and since my daughter is a senior at VT, I live close and am available that day, I plan to go. Not to scream or curse, but to stand with other Christians to show them that our God is a God of Love, not Hate. I have been told that they will insult us and seek to agitate us so that someone will lose thier cool and go after them. They then file charges and sue for damages. No, that would just be giving into their wants. We will show them a love that is strong enough to deflect their arrows of hate.
I know many would like to be there, but work, distance away, and other responsibilities make that impossible. I can be there, so I will go and take a stand. Doesn't make me a hero or a saint; it's just the right thing to do.
Be blessed!
I remember one of the first churches I served. It became evident that the children of one of the family's in the church were being abused. Bruises, burns, broken bones, mentally and physically.
The abuser, the children's mother, was involved in Scouting, taught Sunday School, and was involved in numerous community activities, including working at a local nursery school. The school jumped in before I could, and contacted Social Services. When I asked the church board to request that she step down from working with children until it was resolved, I became the bad guy. One chilling comment has struck me to this day: "Well, she can keep working with the kids. She never hits our kids" There were court hearings, and I had to say what I had seen. I found myself pitted against church members who came to testify on the mother's behalf. It was a nightmare, but I had to stand up for those kids.
I was reminded of standing up for what is right when today I was informed that Westboro Baptist Church (if you can call them a church), known for it's "God Hates Fags" website and veteran's funeral protest, is coming to Virginia Tech on April 9th to "celebrate" the April 16, 2007 shootings that left 33 people dead. They claim God sent the shooter to show God's displeasure with the United States. Their pastor has stated that he "wishes it could have been 33,000" Sick.
A peaceful counter protest is planned, and since my daughter is a senior at VT, I live close and am available that day, I plan to go. Not to scream or curse, but to stand with other Christians to show them that our God is a God of Love, not Hate. I have been told that they will insult us and seek to agitate us so that someone will lose thier cool and go after them. They then file charges and sue for damages. No, that would just be giving into their wants. We will show them a love that is strong enough to deflect their arrows of hate.
I know many would like to be there, but work, distance away, and other responsibilities make that impossible. I can be there, so I will go and take a stand. Doesn't make me a hero or a saint; it's just the right thing to do.
Be blessed!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Birth of a Mule
I have been fortunate enough to have close relationships with both of my children, and sports have played a big part in that. With Jacqueline, I was everything from a soccer coach (though I had never played on a team before) to being her softball coach for several years. I'm proud to say that I didn't scream at the kids, did not embarrass them, and we were able to have fun and win lots of games.
With Kenny, I have been with him and supported him, but others have coached him. He tried baseball, but because of his bad vision, which cannot be corrected, he has a tough time picking up a tiny ball moving that fast. He enjoys basketball, and played several years of parks and rec. But his real sport is football.
The first year he played, he was very young, and did not really understand the game or what he was supposed to do. His head coach was a pretty over-bearing guy, and he made a point of embarrassing Kenny and some of the other players (last year, he did come up to Kenny and apologize for the way he had acted, I will give him credit for that) The following year, Kenny would not even go out for football.
The next year, the urge was too much, plus he would be on a new team with a different coach.
When I first saw Coach Mike, he seemed pretty vocal and loud, and I just hoped it would not be a repeat of that first season. I learned quickly that Coach Mike liked to yell-but he yelled encouragement, and did not embarrass his players. When a player needed to be corrected, he waited until he got the child on the sideline, and then told the player, without yelling at him, what he needed to do differently.
I saw Kenny blossom that year. By season's end, he was one of the best players on the team. In the final playoff game against an undefeated Glenvar team, Kenny was being double-teamed all night. On one particular series, he got hit with several low blocks, and became frustrated. As he came to the sidelines, really getting emotional, I called him on over to the fence and said "They're just trying to get you mad so you'll get thrown out of the game. Use that anger and hit them back even harder". He went back out, and I watched him as he was working against two, and sometimes three, players at a time. He played his heart out. We lost that game in overtime, and Kenny took it very hard. But I saw his future that night.
Here in Salem, high-school football is big time. Our facilities are better than many small colleges, and we have won several state championships. Offensive linemen are not stars at most schools, but they are greatly appreciated here. They are known as "The Mules" because they carry the load. Without them, backs cannot run, quarterbacks have no time to throw. Kenny is on junior varsity now. He will be a sophomore next year, then on to varsity after that. If things continue as they are going now, he will be a "Mule". Even more, I love to see him be part of a team, and learn the thrill of working with your team to achieve a victory, and to play your hardest and smartest. Will he be a Hokie, or even a Redskin (I'd probably fall over dead from joy if that happened. My blood type is burgundy/gold!) Realistically, I doubt it. But I love to watch him play the game he loves, and even more, to watch him grow as a good and decent young man. God has blessed us with wonderful children. I am glad I am able to appreciate the gift that we have been given.
Have a great day!
With Kenny, I have been with him and supported him, but others have coached him. He tried baseball, but because of his bad vision, which cannot be corrected, he has a tough time picking up a tiny ball moving that fast. He enjoys basketball, and played several years of parks and rec. But his real sport is football.
The first year he played, he was very young, and did not really understand the game or what he was supposed to do. His head coach was a pretty over-bearing guy, and he made a point of embarrassing Kenny and some of the other players (last year, he did come up to Kenny and apologize for the way he had acted, I will give him credit for that) The following year, Kenny would not even go out for football.
The next year, the urge was too much, plus he would be on a new team with a different coach.
When I first saw Coach Mike, he seemed pretty vocal and loud, and I just hoped it would not be a repeat of that first season. I learned quickly that Coach Mike liked to yell-but he yelled encouragement, and did not embarrass his players. When a player needed to be corrected, he waited until he got the child on the sideline, and then told the player, without yelling at him, what he needed to do differently.
I saw Kenny blossom that year. By season's end, he was one of the best players on the team. In the final playoff game against an undefeated Glenvar team, Kenny was being double-teamed all night. On one particular series, he got hit with several low blocks, and became frustrated. As he came to the sidelines, really getting emotional, I called him on over to the fence and said "They're just trying to get you mad so you'll get thrown out of the game. Use that anger and hit them back even harder". He went back out, and I watched him as he was working against two, and sometimes three, players at a time. He played his heart out. We lost that game in overtime, and Kenny took it very hard. But I saw his future that night.
Here in Salem, high-school football is big time. Our facilities are better than many small colleges, and we have won several state championships. Offensive linemen are not stars at most schools, but they are greatly appreciated here. They are known as "The Mules" because they carry the load. Without them, backs cannot run, quarterbacks have no time to throw. Kenny is on junior varsity now. He will be a sophomore next year, then on to varsity after that. If things continue as they are going now, he will be a "Mule". Even more, I love to see him be part of a team, and learn the thrill of working with your team to achieve a victory, and to play your hardest and smartest. Will he be a Hokie, or even a Redskin (I'd probably fall over dead from joy if that happened. My blood type is burgundy/gold!) Realistically, I doubt it. But I love to watch him play the game he loves, and even more, to watch him grow as a good and decent young man. God has blessed us with wonderful children. I am glad I am able to appreciate the gift that we have been given.
Have a great day!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Old Friends There Are Not Forgotten
One of the things you learn when you almost die is who your friends really are. I went from an outpatient surgery to cancer debulking surgery to kidney and liver failure, a collapsed lung, a body full of infection, and being told I only had days to live, only to be saved by what only could have been a miracle from God and thousands of people's prayers.
For all the trials and fears of that time, it was also a time of great blessing for us. For one thing, Vickie and I got rid of alot of old "junk" that had been bogging down our relationship. When you almost lose the one you love, you realize alot of the things you have worried about so much were really not that important to begin with. Our marriage now is stronger and healthier than it has been in years. We both realized again what really matters.
One of the greatest blessings has been the support of our family and our friends, some of whom have really become our extended family, even though many live hours away from us. I have heard from old friends as far away as California and Guam. People who we had not seen in years have come out of the woodwork to offer prayers, send cards, make donations, visit me in the hospital, help with Vickie's hotel room while I was at Wake Forest, help take care of Kenny, build a ramp onto our house so I could get in and out the door, install rails in our bathroom so I could get into the shower, set up a bed in my living room so I could rest during the day, had prayer vigils at churches, driven hours to be with me and stay by my bedside, and much, much more.
I have joked that it was nice to, in a way, get to go to my own funeral. I always wondered who would come if I died. I got close enough that I found out, and it made me feel loved and appreciated to see those who reached out to me and my family. Maybe I haven't been that bad a person after all.
Bless you all-have a great day!
For all the trials and fears of that time, it was also a time of great blessing for us. For one thing, Vickie and I got rid of alot of old "junk" that had been bogging down our relationship. When you almost lose the one you love, you realize alot of the things you have worried about so much were really not that important to begin with. Our marriage now is stronger and healthier than it has been in years. We both realized again what really matters.
One of the greatest blessings has been the support of our family and our friends, some of whom have really become our extended family, even though many live hours away from us. I have heard from old friends as far away as California and Guam. People who we had not seen in years have come out of the woodwork to offer prayers, send cards, make donations, visit me in the hospital, help with Vickie's hotel room while I was at Wake Forest, help take care of Kenny, build a ramp onto our house so I could get in and out the door, install rails in our bathroom so I could get into the shower, set up a bed in my living room so I could rest during the day, had prayer vigils at churches, driven hours to be with me and stay by my bedside, and much, much more.
I have joked that it was nice to, in a way, get to go to my own funeral. I always wondered who would come if I died. I got close enough that I found out, and it made me feel loved and appreciated to see those who reached out to me and my family. Maybe I haven't been that bad a person after all.
Bless you all-have a great day!
Monday, March 22, 2010
Family Matters
My wife and I first met on the first day of our college orientation in August, 1981. We were standing in a line waiting to get our pictures taken for our student i.d.'s. As I got in line, I noticed a red headed girl standing in front of me. After a few minutes, when she happened to turn around, I said hello, and we talked briefly. Something about her made me think she was a little country girl from West Virginia (mind you, I had never met anyone from WVA, just a complete stereotype on my part!) I remember saying to myself "She seems nice enough, but I just left Mathews. I don't need a country girl!
As the days passed, our paths continued to cross. Turned out she had come to school a week before orientation because that was the only time her dad could get off work to drive her down from Massachusetts (NOT West Virginia). One of my friends from church back home was doing orientation set-up that year, and she and my wife had become friendly from eating together. I was nervous those first few weeks, so when I got to the cafeteria each meal, I searched frantically for somebody I knew to sit with. I ended up eating many meals with my friend and future wife those first few weeks.
One day, she came by my table and asked me to come to her room and study. I said "sure". One of my dorm mates spoke up after she left and said "That girl likes you". I told him, "No, we are just friends" "No man," he replied, "I can tell--she likes you"
That night I went to her room and we studied English for about an hour. Then she put on a Barry Manilow record (which one neither of us is now sure) we talked some more, and had our first kiss. I knew by November I wanted to marry her, but that would be five more years away.
That first kiss will be 29 years ago this September, and somehow we have "made it through the rain" (hit it, Barry!!!)
P.S. Some people have asked me to write more about my illness. I will, but it's hard for me. I grew up in a fairly sickly family, and to be quite honest, I got sick of talking about illness. However, orange popsicles will get a shout-out from me before too long!!
Have a great day!! And PLEASE, let me know what you think, and anything you would like me to talk about.
As the days passed, our paths continued to cross. Turned out she had come to school a week before orientation because that was the only time her dad could get off work to drive her down from Massachusetts (NOT West Virginia). One of my friends from church back home was doing orientation set-up that year, and she and my wife had become friendly from eating together. I was nervous those first few weeks, so when I got to the cafeteria each meal, I searched frantically for somebody I knew to sit with. I ended up eating many meals with my friend and future wife those first few weeks.
One day, she came by my table and asked me to come to her room and study. I said "sure". One of my dorm mates spoke up after she left and said "That girl likes you". I told him, "No, we are just friends" "No man," he replied, "I can tell--she likes you"
That night I went to her room and we studied English for about an hour. Then she put on a Barry Manilow record (which one neither of us is now sure) we talked some more, and had our first kiss. I knew by November I wanted to marry her, but that would be five more years away.
That first kiss will be 29 years ago this September, and somehow we have "made it through the rain" (hit it, Barry!!!)
P.S. Some people have asked me to write more about my illness. I will, but it's hard for me. I grew up in a fairly sickly family, and to be quite honest, I got sick of talking about illness. However, orange popsicles will get a shout-out from me before too long!!
Have a great day!! And PLEASE, let me know what you think, and anything you would like me to talk about.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Son of a Real Jedi
Growing up, I thought I had the oldest parents on the planet. You see, I was very much a surprise baby. My siblings were born in 1947 and 1949; I was born in 1963--get the picture now? At first, the doctors told my mom she has a tumor (in Arnold's famous words "I don't have a too-mor"LOL) Then later, they discovered the "tumor" had a heartbeat. Some people still think I'm a tumor, but thats a different story for another day.
Most parents I knew, if they had served in war, it was Korea or even Vietnam. My dad was a veteran of World War II, the Greatest Generation. He fought in the Battle of the Bulge and all across Germany and parts of France.
I learned most of this from finding old clippings in a drawer in the hallway of our house. Dad, like most veterans I know who actually saw action, spoke very little and very rarely about his war experiences. How those men saw what they did and came back home to live normal lives still amazes me.
Not long before Dad died, my wife and I were at my parents's house, watching "NightLine" This was during the time of the "ethnic cleansing" in Bosnia. I could tell the report was disturbing my dad. In a few minutes, he began to talk to us about atrocities he had seen during his time in war.
I remember him saying, "You wouldn't believe the things I saw done to women and children" He did NOT elaborate.
My dad was a house painter with his father when he got drafted from his hometown, Amelia VA.
He and millions of other ordinary men put down their work and their lives to fight the most evil empire in the history of the world, and they won. He did tell me of sleeping on the snow at night; drinking water from mudholes when there was no other water to drink, and seeing his buddies killed right beside him. He got some medals for sharp-shooting, and he got a Purple Heart for being injured by shrapnel while fighting in Germany.
My dad kept his medals tucked away in the old drawer in the hall, too. One year, while I was home for Thanksgiving, I snuck them out of the house and took them to a frame shop where I had them put in a shadow box display. On Christmas Day, we gave them to Dad so he could hang them on the wall. There was not a dry eye in the house. I was happy to salute "my hero, a real Jedi Knight" I still miss him-if I can be half the man he was, I will have done well. My parents may have been the Oldest ones around, but I was lucky to have them.
Have a blessed day!
Have a great day!
Most parents I knew, if they had served in war, it was Korea or even Vietnam. My dad was a veteran of World War II, the Greatest Generation. He fought in the Battle of the Bulge and all across Germany and parts of France.
I learned most of this from finding old clippings in a drawer in the hallway of our house. Dad, like most veterans I know who actually saw action, spoke very little and very rarely about his war experiences. How those men saw what they did and came back home to live normal lives still amazes me.
Not long before Dad died, my wife and I were at my parents's house, watching "NightLine" This was during the time of the "ethnic cleansing" in Bosnia. I could tell the report was disturbing my dad. In a few minutes, he began to talk to us about atrocities he had seen during his time in war.
I remember him saying, "You wouldn't believe the things I saw done to women and children" He did NOT elaborate.
My dad was a house painter with his father when he got drafted from his hometown, Amelia VA.
He and millions of other ordinary men put down their work and their lives to fight the most evil empire in the history of the world, and they won. He did tell me of sleeping on the snow at night; drinking water from mudholes when there was no other water to drink, and seeing his buddies killed right beside him. He got some medals for sharp-shooting, and he got a Purple Heart for being injured by shrapnel while fighting in Germany.
My dad kept his medals tucked away in the old drawer in the hall, too. One year, while I was home for Thanksgiving, I snuck them out of the house and took them to a frame shop where I had them put in a shadow box display. On Christmas Day, we gave them to Dad so he could hang them on the wall. There was not a dry eye in the house. I was happy to salute "my hero, a real Jedi Knight" I still miss him-if I can be half the man he was, I will have done well. My parents may have been the Oldest ones around, but I was lucky to have them.
Have a blessed day!
Have a great day!
Thursday, March 18, 2010
From the Sports Page to the Pulpit
I never intended to be a minister. I spent alot of time during my teen years at the home of my good friend, Jimmy Rogers. His dad was our pastor, and when both my parents ended up in the hospital at the same time, I stayed at Jimmy's house for a couple of weeks. One day, Rev. Rogers invited me to skip school (Hey, I like this guy!) and go with him for the day as he drove to Richmond and Newport News to make hospital visits. That night, he went back to the church for a meeting of the Administrative Board. Knowing how hard the guy worked, how dedicated he was, then seeing how the church treated him at the meeting that night, I swore I would never become a pastor. I love God and Jesus alot, but people will drive you crazy!
No, I was going to be a sports writer, move to D.C. and cover my boyhood heroes, the Washington Redskins (I want a Redskins casket, but lucky for my wife, they don't make them-DARN!) Once I got to Virginia Wesleyan, I discovered they really did not have (at that time) much for a journalism department. So, loving history and sports, I decided to become a history teacher and football coach.
I had done a few guest preaching Sundays over the years, and people had often remarked that I should go into the ministry. I would nod politely and thank them, secretly thinking to myself, "When Hell freezes over". No way was I going to put me or my family through that.
One night while back in Mathews, I went to a revival meeting at my home church. I am embarrassed to say I did not really hear a word the guest pastor said in his sermon that night. I was too busy listening to God, who was putting in my heart that the things I wanted to do could best be done as a pastor. Spreading the Gospel by example as much as by mouth, working to help young people, etc. When the sermon was over, I went forward and dedicated my life to going into the ministry. When I got back to school, I went to see one of the school officials, who told me, "I was waiting for you to come by. I always knew you would go into the minstry".
The rest, some 28 years later, is history. Yes, some folks will still drive you crazy, but the vast majority will be a great blessing to you.
Have a great day!
No, I was going to be a sports writer, move to D.C. and cover my boyhood heroes, the Washington Redskins (I want a Redskins casket, but lucky for my wife, they don't make them-DARN!) Once I got to Virginia Wesleyan, I discovered they really did not have (at that time) much for a journalism department. So, loving history and sports, I decided to become a history teacher and football coach.
I had done a few guest preaching Sundays over the years, and people had often remarked that I should go into the ministry. I would nod politely and thank them, secretly thinking to myself, "When Hell freezes over". No way was I going to put me or my family through that.
One night while back in Mathews, I went to a revival meeting at my home church. I am embarrassed to say I did not really hear a word the guest pastor said in his sermon that night. I was too busy listening to God, who was putting in my heart that the things I wanted to do could best be done as a pastor. Spreading the Gospel by example as much as by mouth, working to help young people, etc. When the sermon was over, I went forward and dedicated my life to going into the ministry. When I got back to school, I went to see one of the school officials, who told me, "I was waiting for you to come by. I always knew you would go into the minstry".
The rest, some 28 years later, is history. Yes, some folks will still drive you crazy, but the vast majority will be a great blessing to you.
Have a great day!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Mathews County Native Devil
I don't want this blog to just be about my illness. God has blessed me with a second chance, and while the story of my medical struggle is important, I don't want it to completely define me.
A few years back, a seller on E-bay was surprised to learn that, being a pastor, I used the nickname "nativeDevil". Well, it's not too complicated.
I was born and raised in a little county in Virginia called Mathews. It is surrounded on three sides by water, and you don't pass through it and keep going, unless your vehicle is equipped for the water. The town has NO red-lights (except at the bridge to Gwynn's Island. I would really suggest you NOT run that one!!) It is a tight-knit community, and even today, most people there know, or at least know of, just about everybody in it.
One of the great prides of Mathews is it's excellent school system. When I got to college and had to compete against students from far bigger areas and bigger schools, I was relieved to find that I had been very well prepared. The names McDaniel, Trusch, and Deputy (him and her) stand out. Our sports teams were the Mathews Blue DEVILS. And boy do we love our sports, even if they have bad seasons. I was the only one of my family actually born in Mathews (well, we were living in Mathews; I was technically born at the old Dixie Hospital (now Hampton General) about an hour away). So, needing a code name for the internet, and something that nobody else had already chosen, I went with NativeDevil (also, since I went to Duke, the devil thing just seemed natural, too) So, no Satanic connections, just a good ole boy giving a nod to his hometown.
Thanks for reading, and please DO comment. I love to hear what you have to say, and if you have something you want me to talk about, let me know that, too.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
A few years back, a seller on E-bay was surprised to learn that, being a pastor, I used the nickname "nativeDevil". Well, it's not too complicated.
I was born and raised in a little county in Virginia called Mathews. It is surrounded on three sides by water, and you don't pass through it and keep going, unless your vehicle is equipped for the water. The town has NO red-lights (except at the bridge to Gwynn's Island. I would really suggest you NOT run that one!!) It is a tight-knit community, and even today, most people there know, or at least know of, just about everybody in it.
One of the great prides of Mathews is it's excellent school system. When I got to college and had to compete against students from far bigger areas and bigger schools, I was relieved to find that I had been very well prepared. The names McDaniel, Trusch, and Deputy (him and her) stand out. Our sports teams were the Mathews Blue DEVILS. And boy do we love our sports, even if they have bad seasons. I was the only one of my family actually born in Mathews (well, we were living in Mathews; I was technically born at the old Dixie Hospital (now Hampton General) about an hour away). So, needing a code name for the internet, and something that nobody else had already chosen, I went with NativeDevil (also, since I went to Duke, the devil thing just seemed natural, too) So, no Satanic connections, just a good ole boy giving a nod to his hometown.
Thanks for reading, and please DO comment. I love to hear what you have to say, and if you have something you want me to talk about, let me know that, too.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
A Very Special Day
I set up this blog a week ago, but decided to wait for today to write my first post. From now on, March 16th will be a very special day in my life.
One year ago today, I was still trying to recover from cancer surgery when I took a bad turn for the worst. My kidneys failed, so did my liver, one lung collapsed, and my abdomen was full of infection. My team of doctors was stumped about what to do.
The doctor (Dr. A, as everyone calls him) told my wife, after some prodding from her, that she should call my family and friends to come see me NOW, because I had only a few days to live.
His words were: "Don't plan on a miracle" Well, thanks to God and all of your prayers around the country, we got a miracle. A new doctor arrived to head up the team (more about him later) and they were able to stablize me, and I slowly improved. I went in the hospital in the end of January, and stayed until almost the end of May.
I have been given a second chance at life, and this blog will be a way for me to share memories of my life, as well as my thoughts and opinions on topics of the day, and sometimes religious topics as well.
I will fill you in on who I am, where I come from, and what I believe. I also want to hear from you, too. Please comment, and let me know if there is some question you have, something you want me to discuss, or just if you have a different opinion from me. We can differ, but still be kind to each other.
Thanks for reading!
One year ago today, I was still trying to recover from cancer surgery when I took a bad turn for the worst. My kidneys failed, so did my liver, one lung collapsed, and my abdomen was full of infection. My team of doctors was stumped about what to do.
The doctor (Dr. A, as everyone calls him) told my wife, after some prodding from her, that she should call my family and friends to come see me NOW, because I had only a few days to live.
His words were: "Don't plan on a miracle" Well, thanks to God and all of your prayers around the country, we got a miracle. A new doctor arrived to head up the team (more about him later) and they were able to stablize me, and I slowly improved. I went in the hospital in the end of January, and stayed until almost the end of May.
I have been given a second chance at life, and this blog will be a way for me to share memories of my life, as well as my thoughts and opinions on topics of the day, and sometimes religious topics as well.
I will fill you in on who I am, where I come from, and what I believe. I also want to hear from you, too. Please comment, and let me know if there is some question you have, something you want me to discuss, or just if you have a different opinion from me. We can differ, but still be kind to each other.
Thanks for reading!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Premeres March 16th!
Join me on March 16th for the premere of "For What It's Worth"
Your comments are always welcome, even before March 16th!
Your comments are always welcome, even before March 16th!
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