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!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
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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