Finding Joy?

 “Joy dials us into the world around us.  Our attention is right there, our hearts are open, our minds are open, and our motivation is to know what is true.”

Spoiler alert:  I haven’t found it, but I’m still searching, and I know, I will find it.

Over the past several months, in the midst of the dreaded pandemic, Laurel and I began the planning and preparing for a move from our home of 14 years in Georgia to Ohio.  I made the decision to make a job change, within WIKA, and Laurel, as usual, was willing to stay by my side as I went off looking for the next windmill.

Fast forward to the last few months as we began the official, and hard, transition.  We put our house up for sale, and as has been the case lately, it sold in a day.  We had that immediate reaction of great!  Our house sold!  Shit!  Our house sold!  We had about a month to get our move planned, get rid of excess furniture, clothes and stuff.  Every day was spent working on getting all of the work done to prepare to vacate our home.

The hard part was that we just weren’t ready, and we didn’t realize, we just weren’t ready.  On one hand, it was a lot of hard work.  On the other hand, it was ripping us apart emotionally.  We had never lived in one home for this long, and we had fallen in love with our home, our neighborhood, our church, our yoga studio, everything.  We spent a lot of time transferring those feelings to our dogs, Little Bit and Daisy, as they kept trying to figure out where all the furniture was going, and why everything that

had been a constant for them was no longer a constant.  The final painful moment was when we sold Daisy’s love seat, and she couldn’t watch the squirrels in the backyard anymore out the window.

The day came when we had to leave, and no surprise, we both cried.  I had never imagined this would be so hard.  But we never imagined how hard the next steps would be.

We couldn’t leave Georgia yet, so we couldn’t make our move to Ohio.  I had a commitment for Confirmation Sunday to be there for my confirmand, Tucker Phillips, and I would never miss that.  And our son Sean and his fiancée Chandler were coming to visit over Thanksgiving (another spoiler alert, they never made it, due to the pandemic).  

We moved into an Airbnb for three weeks, and it started off badly from the outset.  We chose the house because it was pet friendly, and we were supposed to have it to ourselves.  When Laurel entered the front door, she could hear dogs barking.  She came back outside and called the owner.  The owner lived downstairs with her two dogs.  We thought, it’s three weeks, how bad could it be?

It was that bad.  Our dogs would hear her dogs and bark.  Her dogs would hear our dogs and bark.  It was more than that though.  For whatever reason, Laurel and I, and the dogs, never seemed to feel comfortable there.  We could never put our finger on it.  The furniture wasn’t comfortable.  The neighborhood wasn’t the nicest neighborhood.  There were a lot of big dogs in the neighborhood, and each time when we’d take the dogs for a walk, if Little Bit saw or heard one of those big dogs, she’d want to head back home.  I spent each week in Ohio, and Laurel had to deal with all of this.  Every day when I’d call her, she’d cry.  Now, Laurel has always been the rock in our marriage, so this was not like her, she has handled everything during our 38 years together.  I’d ask her what was wrong, and the best way she could put it was from a book she had been reading, and the one line from the book:

“Nothing awakens feelings of deep terror like the experience of absolute disconnection from others.”

We not only had left our home, but we had left all of our connections behind, and nothing felt comfortable or safe to Laurel anymore.  

After we made it through those three weeks, we moved into a hotel for five days, and our plan had been to drive to Ohio after those five days and move to a new hotel in Ohio.  As much as we dreaded the idea of having our dogs in a hotel, it actually went pretty well.  They loved the king-sized bed, and they enjoyed the room much more than the house we had been in.

For once I got a good idea, and instead of going to Ohio, we made a side trip to my Mom’s home in North Carolina, and I left Laurel and the dogs there for a week while I went to Ohio.  But, of course, this didn’t go smoothly either.  Just as we made it into North Carolina, we stopped at a rest stop.  When we got back into our car, the battery was dead.  We had to call Roadside Assistance on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, and wait patiently as we waited for someone to come give us a jump.  The whole time we stressed and worried, what if it’s more than the battery?  What if we have to be towed?  We had two dogs and all of the stuff we could carry with us in the vehicle, where will we find a hotel out in the middle of nowhere that also somehow takes dogs?  Luckily, it was only a dead battery, and we were on our way.

We were also almost out of gas at that point, and so we had to stop, and of course keep the car running, so we didn’t have a dead car again.  As we stopped at a gas station, Laurel insisted on checking the trunk to make sure everything was still there.  I started losing my mind, where could it have possibly gone?  I started storming off, walking to ?  Yes, where was I walking to…

As we got back in the car, and Laurel sat there crying, I started yelling “What has happened to you?  Why are you like this?”  Laurel answered, “Everything is back there.  Everything we have is back there.  We can’t lose that.”  Immediately for some reason, a sense of calm came over me, and I said, as I pointed to Laurel and me, “No.  This is everything.  None of that matters.  The only thing that matters is you and me.”

The week at my Mom’s home went great for Laurel and the dogs, and also for my Mom.  Laurel, Little Bit and Daisy got to celebrate my Mom’s 92nd birthday with her.  And the next weekend we were off to Ohio for another 18 days or so in a hotel.  This hotel experience hasn’t been nearly as positive as the previous hotel stay, but that wasn’t the most difficult part.  I started unraveling.  

As the last few months have unfolded, and we got busier and busier, I moved away from those activities that grounded me and kept me at peace.  I stopped watching our church services online.  I stopped attending the Forum, our Adult Education classes online.  As most of our worldly possessions moved without us, I quit doing our book club online, I didn’t have the books.  I quit attending my Small Group meetings from my former church online.  Finally, when we left Georgia, I had my final yoga classes, which really hurt, since that was one of the last “in person” activities I was able to participate in.  And the worst, and I anticipated the most painful, I had my last session with Hailey.  I had spent close to a year and a half with Hailey, she had made a huge impact on me and helped me transform myself dramatically, and now, I would have to miss those weekly meetings of grounding and bringing my life into perspective.

I gradually became grumpier and grumpier, and I would get angry over all the little things, and really angry over the big things.  Many of these are “first world problems”, I’m tired of wearing the same clothes out of the same suitcase for the past seven weeks.  I’m tired of living out of a hotel room, or worse, for the past seven weeks.  I’m tired of eating crappy food for the last seven weeks.  Back to the story above about the dead battery and stopping for gas, when we stopped, there was a homeless couple begging for money at the gas station, so yes, I have little to be complaining about.  But, I couldn’t seem to help it.

And the big things.  We couldn’t find a house.  The housing market in Columbus is completely insane, and it took forever to find a home.  We finally did, but it was really painful.  We’ve had difficulties on our mortgage and with wiring money, and in both cases, it was with the bank we’ve been doing business with for many years.  In this day and age, it really shouldn’t be this hard but it was.

As noted, in many ways, this shouldn’t have been a surprise that I was losing my way, my focus.  The only activity I had that was grounding me was reading Rolf Gates’ “Meditations on Intention and Being” (the quote at the beginning is from this book) and reading the Bible in the morning.  As a side note, my choice on Bible readings didn’t help much though either, I have been going through the Bible this year, and I’m currently on the Old Testament and the prophets.  Not always the most uplifting stories from the Bible.

Just when I was growing tired of being even around myself and treating my small little family of Laurel, Little Bit and Daisy badly, God intervened.  As I had an e-mail exchange with my friends from the Forum, I made a comment about not being there anymore or something like that, and Chuck Achuff suggested I teach one of the classes in December.  The Forum was studying Adam Hamilton’s “Incarnation”.  I was somewhat shocked, and hadn’t really thought of attending, let alone teaching, but I said yes.  I’m not sure if you have read any of Adam Hamilton’s books before, but I don’t think anyone could feel badly after reading Adam Hamilton.  And Incarnation didn’t disappoint, there were so many meaningful insights that helped bring me back to who I am and to focus on what is important in life.  The Light of the World.  The Word of God. Joy.  

“If you can calm the raging sea, you can calm the storm in me.”

I also started taking some ownership for myself of bringing myself back to life.  I started running on the treadmill at the hotel, and listening to contemporary Christian music.  Since they are practicing safety, you have to sign up for the exercise room, and you have it to yourself.  So I was singing loud and singing proud as I ran, and thankfully, hopefully, no one could hear me singing.  At least for their benefit…  And one last thing, I noticed on the treadmill, three little buttons, they said, “Quick Start”, “Pause” and “Cool Down”.  I used the last two as metaphors for myself, and as I ran and sang, I would stare at the last two, and try to focus on pausing and cooling down.  

As I noted in the beginning, I haven’t quite found joy yet.  But I’m getting there.  I love to use another metaphor for myself for joy.  The last time we were able to be at church before the pandemic, I got a big hug from Meera Phillips.  She is Tucker’s sister, and I got to see her again at Tucker’s confirmation.  Meera is the embodiment of joy.  When I want to visualize joy, I visualize Meera, who can even smile with her eyes with one of those dreaded masks on.

This won’t be a classic Christmas for us.  We should be in our new home by Christmas, barely, and there will be no presents, no tree, no decorations.  But as we all know, that’s not Christmas.  I’ve come to realize, as the Grinch did, maybe Christmas means a little bit more.  Christmas is so much more.  The Light of the World.  The Word of God.  Joy.

“And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.”

Christian Supremacy

 “The yoga postures and breath are tools to rebuild and transform ourselves.  The goal is not to tie ourselves in knots – we’re already tied in knots.  The aim is to untie the knots in our heart.  The aim is to unite with the ultimate, loving, and peaceful power in the universe.” Max Strom, Yoga Teacher

Laurel finally convinced me to try yoga three years ago, and while I can’t practice it nearly as much as she does, or I’d like, I do practice it as much as I possibly can.  After I got past my initial “Type A” attempt at yoga where I strived to do every posture perfectly, I soon settled in to the fact, I just can’t do it, my body is way too tight and inflexible, and I’m not strong enough or have good enough balance to do many of the postures.  I soon grew to acceptance of my physical limitations, and that is when my true yoga practice began.  I started growing and learning through the mental and spiritual aspects of yoga, and my practice grew deeper, I started getting the true benefit from yoga.

What I was missing was what Max Strom noted above, yoga is a whole lot more than an exercise routine.  The two studios that Laurel and I have practiced at together have emphasized the true nature of yoga.  What has been interesting for me is at times when Laurel and I are traveling, and we go to a yoga studio somewhere else, you often find yourself in the middle of “gym yoga”.  In many cases, we have Americanized yoga into a workout routine instead of what it is.  We take yoga postures, we keep those intact, but everything else about the routine is thrown to the side.  No quiet, no stillness, no connecting with the breath.  We sweat our way through Down Dog, Warrior 2, Pyramid and Planking, and we think we’ve done yoga.  But it’s really only a gym workout with some yoga postures thrown in.

Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?

Just as we have bastardized the beautiful practice of yoga to meet our idea of what it should be, rather than what it is, we have done the same thing with the gospel of Jesus Christ.  We have taken an incredibly beautiful story of the ultimate sacrifice, suffering a humiliating and painful death, Jesus giving up his life for us, and made it into some sort of Hollywood drama or World Wrestling match where good crushes evil.

While the gospel story tells us about what Jesus did, his teachings, his radical opposition to the religious hierarchy, his amazing love for the least of us, his ugly, horrible death that he suffered for us, it never said that our victory would come on this earth, the victory is eternal life, and our reward will come in Heaven.  We are not satisfied with that outcome, we have determined that we deserve something more.  So we’ve changed the narrative.

While the gospel is clear, our reward is not on earth, it’s in Heaven, we have Americanized it and created concepts such as the “Prosperity Gospel” where God really wants us to have all the things we want on earth, God wants us to live a rich and fruitful life.  Some of the key concepts of the Prosperity Gospel are:

• Status as the Righteousness of God – We have been confirmed as righteous, and we can stand before God as if we haven’t sinned.

• Material Prosperity – Material possessions and political influence are signs of divine favor.

• Freedom from Sickness and Disease – These are weaknesses that believers will not suffer with since they are protected by God.

• The Divine Economy – the more you give to the church, the more you will receive back, you will be rewarded financially by God for your giving.

Again, if you read what Jesus said about “take up your cross and follow me”, he never said it would be a pleasant journey here on earth, and I think the stories of the disciples can attest to that.  They suffered greatly for their love and devotion to Jesus, and most suffered brutal and painful deaths, similar to Jesus.

“Christians should never think they honor the greater truth they find in Jesus Christ by ignoring truths they found elsewhere.” William Sloan Coffin, former pastor of the Riverside Church in New York

But we’re not even happy with our misconception that following Jesus will lead to wealth, prosperity and an abundance of health on earth, we will only be happy if those we don’t like or disagree with are punished as well.  Whether it’s Muslims or any religion other than Christianity, we want to ensure they are punished for not following Jesus.  The LGBTQ community is ostracized and told they are doomed to Hell for their sins.  We are not willing to grant grace to those we disagree with, even though Jesus taught us to grant grace to everyone, including, and especially, our enemies.  As I’ve noted before, we like to use the Bible as our favorite weapon of choice.

“We are not only permitted to enter respectful dialogue with people of other faiths but obligated to listen with respect and to learn the truth they know.  And in our evangelism, we are not to argue the superiority of our religion and the exclusivism of our truth but to share what we have come to believe and trust and to receive the same from the other.”  Presbyterian theologian Shirley Guthrie

Over the past several years, I’ve experienced and witnessed painful moments when we have chosen to show the superiority of our Christianity over other forms of religion (for once, I’ll spare you all my disdain for false prophets such as Franklin Graham and Jerry Falwell Jr.).  We have a need to convert those who are not worshipping the way we would choose, and we have a need to show how superior we are.  Just a few anecdotal highlights I’ve experienced over the last few years:

• A dear friend, Sharon Klein, was dying of cancer a few years ago.  Sharon was a devout Jew.  As Sharon was on her death bed, some friends from our former company came over to try to convert her to Christianity before she died to save her soul.  As you can imagine, it didn’t go well.

• At one of my former churches, it was a kind of “notch in the belt” to see how many youth we could convert to Christianity or to accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior.  While on the surface, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea, the problem was it was such a “numbers” game.  How many youth did we get to accept Jesus?  We didn’t care about the quality, how devoted, how committed, it was all about, how many?  It became too much like corporate goals and objectives, a victory and an advertisement for how good a church we were.

• I recently listened to a young lady talk about growing up in suburban Atlanta, and how difficult it was for her in high school because she wasn’t Christian.  People would question her, ask her, you’re white, living in the suburbs of Atlanta, how can you possibly not be a Christian?  And that is what I’ve experienced in the south, much more than the north, it’s like there is something wrong with you if you aren’t Christian here, particularly if you are white.

• I love to listen to contemporary Christian music, and one song I love is “Our God” by Chris Tomlin.  What has really disturbed me about this song is what many of us have turned it into.  Now, I could be completely wrong, maybe Mr. Tomlin’s intention was for it to be an anthem espousing that our God was greater than any other God, but I hope that is not the case, I hope he is singing to the glory of God.  I’ve seen so many people sing this song in church like it’s a war song or a patriotic song, similar to singing “Onward Christian Soldiers” or “America the Beautiful”.  They will sing loud, sing proud, “Our God is greater, our God is stronger”.  I guess I chose to find the beauty in the song, as a song of praise.

“And it will not be the ones we expect who will be there, but the ones that God expects.  Not the ones we would have chosen, but the ones God has chosen.  Nothing like we thought, but more, so much more than we ever expected.  Thanks be to God”  The Reverend Thomas D. York

We’ve made religion into a competition, and we are not satisfied with the story as it’s presented.  We are not satisfied with the kingdom of Heaven, as Jesus promised, we want more, we want the kingdom on earth, but even worse, we want it at the cost of anyone who we don’t deem to be worthy.  So much of our struggles, our battles, our concern lies in the idea of who gets into Heaven.  And so much of it is about I’m getting in, but you, and you, and you aren’t, because of who you are or what you do.  We’ve built Heaven into an exclusive club for only those of us who truly deserve it.  

I have no idea who is getting into Heaven.  God knows, if it’s based on merit, none of us.  I firmly believe I will, but it has absolutely nothing to do with me, but it has everything to do with the love of God, and the grace and sacrifice of Jesus Christ.  And I’m not willing to say who doesn’t get into Heaven and why they don’t get in.  Because if I can find a reason for someone not to get in, I can surely find a reason that I shouldn’t get in.  Again, it has nothing to do with me, but everything to do with God and Jesus Christ.

Have I painted a very broad brush of religion in America?  Heavens, yes!  And I know, I’ve painted too broad a brush, but I think collectively we’ve lost sight of what Jesus taught us.  I think if we re-read the Gospel story and truly embraced it, we would change a lot of things about how we lead our lives.  And yes, I very much include me in that statement.

In closing, some wonderful words from Frederick Buechner in “Beyond Words”, who says it all so much better than me:

Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by Me”

He didn’t say that any particular ethic, doctrine, or religion was the way, the truth, and the life.  He said that He was.

“I am the road, also the truth, also the life.  No one gets to the Father apart from Me”

He didn’t say that it was by believing or doing anything in particular that you could “get to the Father.”  He said that it was only by Him – by living, participating in, being caught up by the way of life that He embodied, that was His way.

Thus it is possible to be on Christ’s way and with His mark upon you without ever having heard of Christ, and for that reason it is possible to be on your way to God though maybe you don’t even believe in God.  

Belonging

 “Fitting in is about assessing a situation and becoming who you need to be to be accepted. Belonging, on the other hand, doesn't require us to change who we are; it requires us to be who we are.” Brene Brown

Recently, Laurel and I joined a book club from the yoga studio that we are members at.  We are doing a year’s journey on racism.  We meet once a week, Mondays at 5 for one hour, and I look forward to those meetings each week.  Being an introvert, I don’t say much, but I just love to listen to the great insight so many people share.  Some of the comments are beautiful, some painful, but all filled with wonderful emotion.

I shared this with Hailey the other day in one of our counseling sessions, and I told her that I feel like I fit in there.  She shared with me the quote above, and she mildly corrected me on the concept of fitting in versus belonging.  And as usual, Hailey was right, I feel like I belong there.  I can just be me and not worry about being me, I’ll be accepted for who I am.

It made me think about where else I belong, and I came to yoga.  Since I’ve been going to yoga for three years with Laurel, I’ve changed, I’ve grown, I believe I’ve become a better person.  I’ve encountered so many wonderful teachers, who have so many great lessons for me.  As I’ve shared before, I get a “Jim Valvano day” out of every yoga class.  I laugh, I think, I cry.  I used to worry about how awful I was at yoga, my body is incredibly tight, I have lousy balance, there are many poses I just can’t do.  But over time, I realized, I don’t ever notice anyone else, and I doubt anyone ever notices me.  And I also think I’ve grown in my practice, I’ve given up that Type A desire to always do things perfectly, I’m satisfied with doing the best I can do on that given day.

To me, it’s much more than that though.  Yoga is so much more about the spirituality, the breathing, the mental state, and that has been as much of the practice to me or more than the physical part.  I’ve gotten so much more out of those aspects.  And the people, for the most part, are so nice, so friendly, so accepting.  Again, being an introvert, I don’t talk much to people, but I live vicariously through Laurel, the extrovert in our marriage, who has never met a stranger.  I like to listen and hear about people through their conversations with Laurel.

“Well it’s a sad man my friend who is living in his own skin, but can’t stand the company”

I still haven’t been able to bring myself to say “Namaste” at the end of practice, because I still don’t believe I’m worthy to be there, I still can’t overcome my dislike for myself, but I do feel I belong.  Now, some may find this as a contradiction, but I don’t see it that way.  While I live by the line above from the Bruce Springsteen song, “Better Days”, my feeling of belonging comes from the acceptance that others seem to have for me.  I always feel welcome at yoga.

As I related to Hailey, the realization where you do belong then leads me at least to the question of where I don’t belong.  That was a painful exercise to go through. 

I started with church.  I’ve come to realize that I just don’t feel like I belong at church.  Don’t get me wrong, I love church, I love the sermons (I’m a sermon geek), I love the music, I love the children, the older adults, I love the passion the pastors bring.  I just think we are missing something, and I think too often, we are missing Jesus Christ, or more, what Jesus taught, and lived and died for.

I’ve been recently reading a few books, one is “Leaving Church” by Reverend Dr. Barbara Brown Taylor.  In it she relates her struggle with the church, and leaving the clergy to become a college professor.  The other is “See No Stranger – A Memoir and Manifesto of Revolutionary Love” by Valerie Kaur.  I really don’t know how to adequately describe this book to give it justice, it’s so phenomenal, but the best I can say is it is the memoirs of a young Sikh woman and her story of dealing with the hatred we have in this country of those who are different from us.  It made me reflect back on one of my favorite books, Nadia Bolz Weber’s “Accidental Saints: Finding God in All the Wrong People”.  I just feel as if we have lost sight of what Jesus’ intent was and the people that he cared for.  He lived and embraced those who are the least among us.

Where does that leave me?  I’m not sure.  I still am a devout follower of Jesus Christ.  That won’t change.  I still believe in a lot of what we do as a church.  I just can’t embrace the entire package, and because of that, I feel like I don’t belong.  I think it’s time for me to take a sabbatical and figure out what that means for me, I’ve been attending church for probably close to my 60 years, so this is a very painful realization.

And then I came to work.  Early in my career, after I first became a manager at Touche Ross, before we merged and became Deloitte, we had a management training session where I had my first exposure to the Myers Briggs Personality Test.  As we sat there with the session leader, he put on the board everyone’s personality type spread out over a long line.  There was a huge cluster of X’s on one side of the continuum, and then way over on the other side, there was one lonely X.  Some in the group started chuckling, and then finally someone said, “McCullough”.  Yes, McCullough.

I shared that story recently with Hailey, and I told her that I’ve come to the realization, that I’ve never fit in anywhere where I’ve worked.  Well, I could probably put a small caveat to that, I fit in at Goodwill Industries of Dayton, but I was there just a short period of time.  But the remainder of my 38 years or so of working, I just don’t fit in.  I’m good at what I do, I’ve been successful, but I just don’t enjoy it, I picked the wrong profession (I know, I know, every child grows up dreaming of being an accountant, what’s wrong with me?).

I told Hailey, I’ve always been a salmon swimming upstream, and to be honest, it’s getting exhausting. As we talked through it, we talked further on the topic of fitting in versus belonging.  I started thinking about some of my colleagues and how they have figured out how to fit in, and how they have been much happier than me.  I realized the only one who is unhappy about my inability to fit in is me.  I keep swimming against the current, and I keep getting beaten back.  I don’t belong, but I’m too stubborn to fit in. 

Then Hailey, as usual, asked the critical question, “I think I know the answer to this, but would you have it any other way?”  I thought about it for a second, and answered, “No.  I’m not a fitter inner (I know, great grammar).  I just won’t do it.”  But, yet again, what does that mean for me?

"True seeing touches the heart and authentic being expresses it"

Well, it’s a journey, and I may be 60, but I don’t think the journey is quite over for me yet (hopefully).  I think, my time in yoga these last three years has awakened me.  I think this last year with Hailey has awakened me.  I think this last year of reading Rolf Gates' book "Meditations on Intention and Being" has been amazing for me.  And I think these few months in our book club has awakened me.  A sense of belonging is important to me, and I just can’t be someone who I’m not.  While some of these are painful realizations, they’re important ones that have to happen. 

I’ll close with something fun and uplifting because that’s what this blog post is really about, even if it doesn’t seem that way.  While I never like to call out any specific yoga teacher, because most of them are so incredible, I’ll share the following quote that Valerie shared with us on Saturday (the picture to the right is also a quote she shared earlier this year).  Dr. Seuss is one of my favorite philosophers, and this one really seemed to fit me at the moment:

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."

A Call for the Separation of Church and State

Editor's Note: For the first time ever, I have a guest writer!  My son Patrick asked if he could guest write a blog about a topic near and dear to both of our hearts.  I of course said yes.

Given the horrifying and troubling nature of recent events, I think we can all agree that America is plagued not only by a devastating pandemic but also by many, many other problems. We have witnessed death after death of black men and women at the hands of police, we have seen militias show up at (mostly) peaceful protests armed and ready to engage in senseless acts of violence, and we have heard prominent leaders spew vitriol meant to perpetuate fears and deepen the divide between fellow Americans. But I’m not here to talk about any of that (at least not directly); instead, I’d like to say that Christians need to get the hell out of politics and stay out, as using Christianity as a political platform is a disservice to God and to Jesus’ ministry on Earth. 

Most recently and importantly, we heard many speakers appeal to Christian values and principles during the Republican National Convention. Franklin Graham prayed, for Christ’s sake! What business did he have there? Oh, wait. It turns out that the late Rev. Billy Graham counseled every U.S. president since World War II. I get it. We all need advice, especially if we are as powerful and influential as the president of the United States. However, when counsel becomes a way to manipulate a country founded on the notion of freedom of religion into conforming to Christian standards, things get a little dicey. For instance, was Rev. Billy Graham invited to continue this tradition in an official capacity or was it up to the president to decide for himself whether or not he wanted to be counseled by this man? I mean no disrespect, but Christianity and politics should only mix insofar as we are supposed to pray for our leaders. 

Apparently, Franklin Graham is also organizing a prayer march later in the month of September, which is well within his constitutional rights, but hear his reasoning: “We’re just going to ask people to come and pray. We’re going to ask God to bless this country again.” Now, on the surface there doesn’t seem to be too much wrong here. But God blesses people, not nations. He blesses descendants, and through the descendants of Abraham He blessed the entire world with the gift of eternal life. When we read the prophecies in the Old Testament, they are in terms of descendants and lineage, not in terms of national affiliations. I’ll say it one more time: God does NOT bless nations. Listen to this prophecy from 2 Samuel:

 “When your days are over and you rest with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring to succeed you, your own flesh and blood, and I will establish his kingdom. He is the one who will build a house for my Name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever.”

Notice the word choice. When prophets speak of the coming messiah, they talk about flesh and blood and lineage. They never talk about the nation of Israel or any would-be Christian nation. Why? Because God cares about people, not earthly powers.

With that being said, no nation should aspire to be a Christian nation. God had no desire to have an earthly kingdom in the first place. In 1 Samuel 8, the Israelites ask for a king because they want to be like other nations and demonstrate their power and dominion. This is understandable, given that the memory of a crushing defeat and loss of the Ark of the Covenant at the hands of the Philistines was still fresh on their minds. However, listen to what God tells Samuel:

 “But when they said, ‘Give us a king to lead us,’ this displeased Samuel; so he prayed to the Lord. And the Lord told him: ‘Listen to all that the people are saying to you; it is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king.’”

What was true about the Israelites in the Old Testament is true about Americans now. When we put Christians in positions of national leadership, we reject God as king and place more importance on worldly kingdoms than on the kingdom of Heaven. Jesus didn’t come down from Heaven in order to create an earthly kingdom; rather, he came to establish a heavenly kingdom, His kingdom. His contemporaries expected a military ruler who would restore the former glory of the kingdom of Israel. But Jesus’ mission was more important than worldly power. Christians who seek political power to influence nations to conform to Christian standards and Christians who desire individuals of that nature are not acting like Jesus.

In fact, Jesus and the early Church in Rome undermined worldly expectations regarding His mission over and over again. When the Israelites who would later deny and reject Jesus expected Him to deliver them from the Romans, Jesus preached peace and giving “to Caesar what is Caesar’s.” He didn’t run for office or try to influence Pontius Pilate or any other Roman official. He didn’t even come to depose King Herod. He came to clarify the nature of God’s covenant with the Israelites and to extend it to all humanity, and He didn’t need political office to do so.

Time and time again, when followers and disciples would rather take up arms or establish cabals to overthrow oppressive rulers, the messaging remained the same: Put down your sword, take off your breastplate and replace them with the full armor of God (Ephesians 6:10-18). Growing up going to Christian school, I heard this passage used to excite and encourage warriors of God. Today, I look at it through different eyes. Before Paul got to Ephesus, the place had a proud tradition of warriors. One theory suggests that the city had been founded by the Amazons. A bustling port city, it changed hands via many conquerors who sought control over it due to its economic desirability. This city had seen bloodshed and the heat of battle over and over again. Understanding the context, Paul’s words mean so much more. As Christians, it is not our place to wage wars for earthly kingdoms. It is not our place to exercise dominion over nations or the values and ideals that they promote. Very likely, there were warriors or people who would understand the world in terms of violence and dominance in Paul’s intended audience. His use of militaristic language would reach these people and resonate with them. This isn’t about mobilizing people to wage or engage in spiritual warfare on Earth. The passage promotes a laying down of implements of violence and replacing them with symbols of peace.

There are many other directions I could go with this, many other passages from scripture to reference. I take this topic very seriously because I believe that Christians in America are wrong. I believe that they promote hate and are more concerned with America looking like they do than with they themselves looking like Jesus. Politicians on both sides have used Christianity as a way to promote their moral character, but it seems particularly egregious at this time, given that these so-called Christians show up at protests with paintball guns or worse. Stop trying to make America a Christian nation because, frankly, God doesn’t want it and America isn’t worthy of His blessing.

They Will Know We Are Christians By Our Love?

"Cross Lighting"

A few years ago, Laurel and I got the Victrola that had been in my Great-grandmother’s house when I was a boy growing up.  It’s a beautiful piece of furniture, still looks really good, but unfortunately, the turntable doesn’t quite work how it should.  We have a wealth of 78 RPM records in the base of it, but sadly, really can’t play them.

The one day, I got a text from Laurel, half joking, but really half not, and it said, “what’s the deal with your family?”  I looked at the text, and much to my surprise, I saw this:

Now, I’ll be abundantly clear, I never experienced any type of blatant or overt racism in my own home growing up, my parents never allowed that to enter in, but as I’ve noted before, I got a whole world of it growing up in western Pennsylvania, particularly from my great uncles.  They both fought in World War II, so their hatred spanned most ethnic groups, particularly the ones they fought against in the war.  But they also used racial slurs quite commonly and derisively. 

As far as the record, I have no idea if either of my great grandparents were in the Klan, but the fact that they owned this record is really disturbing.  I know many of us from my era have grown up and been exposed regularly to racism, but knowing it was a part of my heritage, even more than maybe others, was a difficult message to receive.

As I looked at this record, what really struck me as it does anytime I see images of the American Ku Klux Klan, is the burning cross.   I could never understand how that plays into what the KKK stands for and does.  Then I read up on the heritage and their use of the burning cross.  The KKK used it quite extensively as a form of intimidation and terrorization for Blacks, but they characterized it as “cross lighting” and insist it symbolizes their faith in Jesus Christ.

"Gott mit Uns"

I remember years ago, Sandy McConnel, one of the greatest pastors I know, gave a sermon and talked about how the Nazi soldiers in World War II had belt buckles that had the saying “Gott mit Uns” or “God with us”.  This was a tradition that was handed down for generations within the German armies, but in modern day, we view the Nazi’s as so evil, but they viewed it as they were doing “God’s work”.  I’m sure they viewed it, as they exterminated some six million Jews, or 2/3 of the European Jewish population, that they were doing “God’s work”. 

Throughout history, we have seen this played out.  Various people, organizations or countries try to use the cross or Bible to justify whatever motives they have.  The cross is our excuse to perpetrate evil.  The Bible is our weapon of choice to beat people down.  The cross is used to execute those who don’t look or act like us.

“The Bible is not a prop.  A church is not a photo op.  Religion is not a political tool.  God is not your plaything” The Reverend James Martin, SJ

Recently, the current president infamously had peaceful protesters forcibly removed from the streets in Washington DC, so he could have a photo op in front of St. John’s Church.  While his methodologies were atrocious, his actions to try to co-op religion for his political benefit are really no different than past presidents or current candidates.  Political leaders strive to obtain the weight and power of the evangelical base.

“Jesus said to him, ‘Away from me Satan!  For it is written, worship the Lord your God, and serve him only” Matthew 4:10

While I find this appalling from political leaders, it is much worse that more religious leaders, like Father Martin, didn’t come out and condemn these actions.  There is no place for religion in politics, and it is typically those who are truly “wolves in sheep’s clothing” such as Franklin Graham and Jerry Falwell, Jr. who embrace it.  When I hear terms like “Christian nation” or “God and country”, it just makes me cringe and think of how we try to justify our actions with the cross and Bible.

There are so many reasons why we shouldn’t be mixing the two, but just to name a few:

• It’s not what the Founding Fathers had in mind.  They clearly defined that church and state should not be intertwined.
• As noted above in Matthew 4:10, and in various other passages, it’s not Biblical.
• It leaves out a great number of those in our country who aren’t Christian, including those of Jewish faith, Muslim, Hindu, and a wealth of others.  And for my dear Catholic friends, keep in mind that many Evangelicals do not find Catholicism as worthy of being called Christianity, so you would be on the outside looking in also.
• Even if it were somehow the right thing to do, to mix the two, it’s not something we model in our everyday lives.  While I could cite so many instances where it is stated in the Bible some variation on “Love your neighbor”, I’ll go with the old hymn that says, “They will know we are Christian by our love”.  Let me ask, do our neighbors who are Black and suffer from systemic racism know we are Christians by our love?  Do the immigrants who come to our country, that we turn away, to suffer an almost certain death, do they feel the love?  Does the LGBTQ community feel the love?  Asians who have been persecuted because we blame them for COVID-19, and refer to it as the "Kung Flu", are they feeling the love?  
• Do we really want to use Christianity to justify what we do and be no different, no better, than the American KKK or the Nazi’s?

“He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.  And what does the Lord require of you?  But to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God” Micah 6:8

While there would be some who would paint me as anti-American, that is just not the case.  While we have grown to be a country where everything is either/or, I still believe in and as my conjunction of choice.  I do love this country, although I’m growing more and more disappointed with us, but clearly, you don’t fall out of love with someone or something just because it has some issues.  I just think we can be much better than this.  Compassion and kindness aren’t necessarily a Christian thing, any of us, no matter our race, religion, ethnicity, gender or political party could follow what Micah said, and we’d be a whole lot better off.  We just haven’t been doing a very good job of it lately.

And, I do love God.  Here’s where I’ll add one more conjunction though – but.  But my love for God far outweighs any love I may have for this country, or anything else for that matter.  It’s not even close to a contest.  Some may say, they “wear it on their sleeve”.  I wear it on my arms.  One of the two tattoos I have is Micah 6:8, while the other is Joshua 24:15.  I serve but one God.

“Now if you are unwilling to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve…but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”  Joshua 24:15

It's Who We Are

How We React to Protesting in America

I remember a few years ago, the last time we went through the string of lynchings, we were driving from the airport, we had picked Sean up from college, and the interstate was closed down, and we were directed off.  I couldn’t figure out what was going on, and then I saw all of the protesters blocking the interstate.  I was so frustrated, and I felt so inconvenienced.  My anger kept growing as we eventually weaved our way home.

That was the dialogue on the news also, these protesters blocking the interstate, they’re disrupting our lives, disrupting business.  The protesters should be planning their protests off business hours, and not blocking traffic.  That would be more appropriate.  Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Freddie Gray, Eric Garner, and so many more.  Can’t remember what the latest killing had been at the time, but I guess their lives were disrupted too, huh?

I also remember of course when Colin Kaepernick and some of his teammates kneeled for the National Anthem.  That was called disrespectful to the military, and white America lost its collective mind.  And LeBron James wore a shirt that said “I Can’t Breathe” after Eric Garner was murdered, but that was heavily criticized by Laura Ingraham on Fox, who called for him to "shut up and dribble".  Hey Laura, why don't you shut up and .....  No, just shut up.

Contrast that with some of the actions of white supremacists and fringe groups that are given a free pass for their activities because they are just exercising their freedom of speech rights.  I’m sorry, I struggle with the visuals above.  Tell me that if the color of the skin above had been reversed, we wouldn’t have a different perspective?  What form of protest are we OK with African-Americans doing?  People are being senselessly murdered, and we are critical of the method of protest being used.  They try peaceful protests, and it’s disrespectful.  They resort to violence, because they aren’t being heard, and we send the military after them.

It’s funny what set me over the edge this time.  I saw a friend’s post about the current situation, and someone that I don’t even know wrote that “data does not support rampant racist behavior by police” and “I don’t see racist behavior among people I interact with, and I am among people of many races.  So I question that it is systemic or widespread – if it was, it seems I would see it in my experience.”

I lost my mind.  I don’t know why, maybe it was the last straw of the justification coming from white America.  All I could figure was that she lived under a rock, or she had drank the Kool Aid being served daily by the racists at Fox “News”.

OK, maybe I’m the one who has lived in some racist bubble all my life, but let me at least provide a few examples of my early years:

• I give my parents credit, even though racism was rampant in the 60’s, I never heard that type of dialogue or talk in our home.  But, I spent a great deal of time at my Great-grandmother’s house, and my Great Uncles were often there.  I heard the N-word continually in my developmental years.  They also insulted virtually every ethnic group, but the N-word was a word I heard often.
• I grew up out in the middle of the country, and there were very few African-Americans.  I remember once we had a basketball game, and the JV team from the other school had an African-American.  Some of the guys would yell racial slurs under their breaths throughout the game.  Many in the stands laughed or laughed nervously, not knowing what to do.  At halftime of the varsity game, a brawl broke out in the lobby because of the racial slurs that were made.
• When I was in college, I wrote part-time for a local newspaper covering high school sports.  The one team in the league had a couple of young African-Americans move in, and they played on the basketball team.  After a game the team had won, I was interviewing the coach, and this man yelled, “Hey coach!”.  We both turned, and the man said, “Good thing you got those n---s, huh?”  My mouth dropped, and the coach turned back to me, and he was visibly shaken and upset.   

To deny that we are a racist nation is to deny our roots, our upbringing.  It’s in our blood, it’s in our DNA.  We are the country that gave birth to the American Ku Klux Klan!  How can we deny who we are?  Until we are able to come to grips with this, we can’t move past this topic and gain any ground.

“I tell you the truth, when you refuse to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me”

We have to acknowledge who we are, where we’ve come from, and determine how we change this for the sake of all of our brothers and sisters being targeted, dehumanized and some, sadly killed.  If we say we don’t see color, we are lying to ourselves.  We all see color.  If we want to hang onto the Confederate Flag because it’s our heritage, we are telling those who find it a symbol of racism and past slavery, we don’t care about how you feel, we value this symbolic piece of cloth over you.  If we deny there is racism in this country, I would suggest we need to look in the mirror. 

I’ve often been one who believes in trying to find the common ground on issues.  I tend to believe we take a hard line on each side of an issue, and there is often a middle ground that we can come to agreement on that benefits both sides.  There is no middle ground on this issue.  If you don’t stand firmly against racism, vocally, vehemently, you stand for it.  This is not an issue to be silent on.

“If these were silent, the very stones would cry out”

Sadly, many of us, including me, have been silent for too long.  I applaud some of the younger generation, they don’t seem nearly as complacent as some of us “old white guys”, and I hope they sustain that anger and push for a change.  For those of you like me who have stood by too long, too silently, who have quietly felt anger, but didn’t do anything, I’d like to share with you what a dear friend Dave Carr has taught me, and I’m doing it to find a beginning, to find a voice.  I’ve taken the Alcoholics Anonymous approach, and if you’d like, please join me:

HI, my name is Steve McCullough

I’m an American

I’m a racist

Epilogue:  I attended my first protest or rally yesterday that happened in Duluth, Georgia.  The picture below is from one of four little girls that were near me with their parents.  I cried.  It killed me that we have created a society where these children grow up as “less than”.  Yes, she matters.  We love to spout off about being a Christian nation, but there is so little that we do that has any resemblance to what Jesus taught. 

Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd

Say their names

The Weight

I Will Rise

A Time to Kill

The scene below is from the closing arguments of the trial in the movie, “A Time to Kill”.  I still remember watching that closing scene, the horror had unfolded early in the movie, we thankfully didn’t see the details, but still, hearing Matthew McConaughey so eloquently and brutally detail it was chilling.  And the final line made me choke and brought tears to my eyes. 

I've left out some of the more graphic parts of the dialogue because it is just too painful to recount.

I want to tell you a story.  I’m going to ask you all to close your eyes while I tell you the story.  I want you to listen to me.  I want you to listen to yourselves.  Go ahead.  Close your eyes, please.  This is a story about a little girl walking home from the grocery store one sunny afternoon.  I want you to picture this little girl.  Suddenly a truck races up.  Two men jump out and grab her.  They drag her into a nearby field and they tie her up and they rip her clothes from her body.  Now they climb on.  First one, then the other, raping her, shattering everything innocent and pure with a vicious thrust in a fog of drunken breath and sweat.  …. So they pick her up, throw her in the back of the truck and drive out to Foggy Creek Bridge.  Pitch her over the edge.  And she drops some thirty feet down to the creek bottom below.  Can you see her?  Her raped, beaten, broken body soaked in their urine, soaked in their semen, soaked in her blood, left to die.  Can you see her?  I want you to picture that little girl.

Now imagine she’s white

I’m going to present three scenarios for you, all of them real-life scenarios that I’ve experienced.  As you read through these, I’d like you to envision the situation, similar to above, but also, maybe put yourself or one of your children in the scenario and see how you would react or feel in that situation.  I would also like you to consider how does the color of someone’s skin impact each of these situations?  Because whether we like it or not, believe it or not, the color of someone’s skin colors how we view things and clearly changes how the legal system deals with the outcome.

Scene 1

About 14 years ago, we moved to Lawrenceville, Georgia, we had come from Ohio.  We found a beautiful home, we are in the back of a cul-de-sac, and our backyard is completely covered in trees.  When they are in full bloom, you can’t even see any of the neighbors’ houses.  There are a bazillion squirrels in the backyard, I always said that Laurel bought this house for Snickers, he was our dog at the time, and he was a beagle who loved to chase the squirrels.  Now it’s Daisy who does this.

We were in our home a brief period of time, and as I looked out the backdoor, I saw a young man walking through my backyard, carrying a rifle.  I’ll have to admit, I’ve never experienced something like this in my life.  I watched as he walked through our yard, and then left just as he came.  We subsequently found out, he was one of our neighbor’s son, and apparently he was hunting squirrels. 

As the years have gone by, I’ve wondered, what if?  What if I had panicked, what if I would have grabbed a gun, and done something stupid?  What if in that moment, I confronted the young man, what if he turned toward me and I thought he was going to shoot me, what if out of fear, I had shot him and killed that young man?  How would I feel?  How devastating would that be to take a life, a life that I had no business taking, a life that should have many years of love, marriage, children, grandchildren ahead of it?  How much pain would I feel for the rest of my life?  What would his parents think, how would they react, what would have happened to me, would I have gone to jail for committing murder?  Quite frankly, I should have if it would have happened.

But what if he were black?

Scene 2

Stupid me (unfortunately many of my stories start this way), I was taking Sean to soccer practice at a local park after work.  That morning, I grabbed a long sleeve t-shirt, sweat pants, and tennis shoes, so that I could run that night at the park while Sean practiced, the park had a really nice trail that curved through the woods.  Going back to the introduction, my error was that I grabbed a black t-shirt, black sweat pants, and on top of it, a black baseball cap for my run.  To make matters worse, it was fall, and it was getting darker earlier, so by the time I was probably midway through my run, it was dark on the trails, and I really had a hard time even seeing where I was going.

As I was getting close to the end of my run, I looked ahead, and there were headlights coming toward me on the trail, which was very strange, as I noted, this was a running trail through the woods.  As I got closer, the lights kept coming toward me.  As I got close to the car, I was blinded by the lights, and I tried going around it on the driver’s side.  Just as I was passing the front of the car, the driver’s door swung open.  I had that instantaneous panic attack, thinking I’m about to be mugged.  I then saw the lights on top of the car, it was a police car, and it was a police officer getting out of the car.  He asked me to stop, which I did, and he started talking to me.  In my state of panic, I forgot my music was still playing through my earbuds, and I finally turned the music off.

As I stood there, panting, scared, wondering what the heck was going on, I noticed there was another police officer coming around from the other side, and he was younger, and he was eyeing me up pretty closely.  The first officer started questioning me, what was I doing, where had I come from, etc.  I was quickly trying to come to my senses, and trying to figure out why I was being stopped by the police, and I’ll have to admit, I was scared to death.  I had no idea what I had done wrong.

The conversation soon turned to the reason.  Apparently, a woman had been assaulted in the neighborhood adjacent to the park, and I matched the description of the possible suspect.  The first officer was older, he seemed, and was, very reasonable, and I think, soon realized, I wasn’t the perpetrator of the attack.  Still, at one point, the younger officer, who continued to eye me up, asked me to lift up my shirt, I guess to see if I was carrying a weapon.  After what seemed to be hours of questioning (I’m pretty sure it was about 10 minutes), they let me go, but with a stern warning from the first officer.  “Don’t run in the dark, dressed all in black!”  I could only say, “I know, I know, it will never happen again!”

After the incident, when I went home and relayed the entire ordeal to Laurel, what crossed my mind, particularly in relation to the younger police office, what if?  What if the younger officer thought I was trying to run, I wasn’t going to stop when I went around the police car?  What if he thought I was running toward the first officer, what if he thought I was planning on attacking the first officer?  How would he react, he seemed far less experienced, and far more suspicious of me. 

What if I had been black?

Scene 3

I think we’ve all experienced those stories that we hear years later of what our children did that it’s probably a good idea that we never knew when they actually happened.

When Patrick was in college and he would come home for the summer, he apparently developed this habit of going up to our neighborhood pool in the middle of the night for a swim.  He’d climb the fence, swim for a while, and then when he was done, he’d go into the clubhouse, it was unlocked, and take an ice cream bar out of the freezer.  We were horrified when we heard of this.  First, he was technically trespassing, the pool closes at 10 or so at night.  Second, while the clubhouse was unlocked, he was stealing, admittedly minor theft, but theft. 

We told him once we found out how lucky he was that no one caught him.  What if one of our neighbors had noticed what was happening, ice cream bars were gradually disappearing from the clubhouse.  They start watching and see that someone is breaking into the pool, hopping the fence and swimming at night.  What if they decided to confront the perpetrator, and when they reached the clubhouse, and Patrick was coming out, somehow they thought they saw a weapon on him, or Patrick reacted in a defensive manner, and they shot and killed him.  How would they have felt, how would we have felt, would this be a criminal offense punishable by jail time, would this person go to jail, even though Patrick had committed a crime?

What if Patrick were black?

Over the years, I’ve always enjoyed walking through houses under construction.  It’s fun to see a house going up, what it looks like in progress, and seeing it come to its final conclusion.  I’ve never thought much of it, never thought that there was anything wrong with it.  I grew up that way, as a little kid my Dad would take me places, and we’d look at new construction, it was fun to do.  I guess I’m lucky, I never knew that if you toured a construction site, you could be hunted down and murdered for your transgressions.

And I’ve been a runner for probably 40 years or so.  Not a great runner, I always say I’m like a plow horse when I run, but I do enjoy running.  Thankfully, I can’t ever think of a time or imagine a couple of Billy Bob’s coming after me with guns when I was running.  I hate to say it, but I have too much of my Dad in me, and no matter how bad the odds were and how stupid it was, I probably wouldn’t back down.  I could easily see continuing my run and telling them to fuck off or confronting them and telling them to put the gun down and man up.  In either case, sadly, I’d probably be another justified homicide, or self-defense or whatever the rationale would be for the killing.  But wait, maybe not, I forgot….

I’m white

Were You There?

Heroes

It's the End of the World As We Know It - Well, Maybe Not

“It's the end of the world as we know it

It's the end of the world as we know it

It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine”

Last week at work, Dagmar Deamer reminded me of this song with all that we are going through with this pandemic.  I listened to it once again, and I remembered how much I enjoyed this song.  But no, I’m not feeling fine, I’m far from feeling fine.  Plus, now, I can’t get this damn song out of my head.  Thanks Dagmar.  But as usual, I digress.

Just like with any other crisis in life, we are dealing with this pandemic in our own special way.  I’ll have to admit, I wasn’t doing a very good job of it early on.  Well, at first, I actually was having some fun with it.  I thought it was a bunch of hooey, and I told everyone I wasn’t going to do anything differently, I was going to go on with life just like I always did.  I then had my “oh shit” moment the one night about 3 am when I decided to look at my phone and saw that the NBA postponed their season.  I then realized that all other sports would follow suit, and this was serious.  For sports to pass up millions upon millions of dollars, this had to be serious.  We had a rough road ahead of us.

As many of you are aware, I do suffer from depression, and it can be something much less than a pandemic that sets me off, like a Publix commercial, so to say that this sent me downward would be an understatement.  I started worrying about, well, everything.  The pandemic, combined with the huge drop in oil prices, would be devastating for our economy.  Needless to say, many people are and will die from this, which is even more devastating.  My mind was, as in many cases, my own worst enemy.

On a personal level, this past week has hit a pretty deep low, we’ve had several setbacks that are not monumental in the grand scheme of things, but when you pile them all together, can register as a pretty shitty week on the scales.  In no certain order:

• Our son Patrick and his fiancée Rachel were going to be married on April 25, and of course, unfortunately, the wedding had to be postponed.  While we were sad for Patrick, we really were upset for Rachel and for her parents.  To a great extent, a wedding is for the bride, and also to a great extent, the parents of the bride.  They had gone through a lot of planning and preparation, and now, they had to regroup and plan for another date.

• We’ve been busily keeping in close contact with our daughter Kelly, she works for IHG (Holiday Inn), and as you can suspect, her job is probably in a certain level of jeopardy.  The hotel industry is in a very difficult position, people aren’t traveling right now, and who knows when they will start traveling again.

• I had been diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease a few months ago, which I chose not to believe, so I got a second opinion.  This week, I found out … I have Crohn’s Disease.  While this isn’t anything life-threatening, it does provide a certain level of discomfort and joint pain that I’m really not used to.  OK, I know, I’m almost 60 years old, I can’t or shouldn’t complain, but this wasn’t a fun revelation.

• Laurel and I had a few “moments” this week where we probably weren’t as kind to each other as we should be.  With all of the stress going on, it’s probably understandable, and we’ve been married over 37 years, so we will of course be OK, but I know she hurt my feelings, and I’m sure I hurt her feelings.  We didn’t have a good week together.

Normally, I can at least gain comfort from some of the sanctuaries that I frequent, but to no one’s surprise, they are all closed.  Our church is closed until May 11 at a minimum.  Our yoga studio is closed for the foreseeable future.  The local brewery that we go to is closed.  While I am an introvert, I really need personal interaction, and with the social distancing we have to do, I can’t get that either.  I have to say, I was starting to go bat shit crazy.

As I was reaching new lows toward the end of the week, I think it was MK Rodgers who reminded me of what one of my heroes, Mr. Rogers, used to say, “Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping”.  And I did, I found a great deal of people who were helping.  I always hate to individually point people out because I will of course miss some people, but I found so many people willing to help and doing everything they could to help.  Just a few examples:

• Our church, Shallowford Presbyterian Church, has implemented various online options, Bible studies, classes, services, music, etc.  The greatest benefit is that I’ve been able to share these with my Mom, and she’s been able to watch them from her home in North Carolina.  The only downside is when she’s watched one that I haven’t, and I have to admit I haven’t seen it yet.

• Several yoga studios are providing online classes for free, so that we can continue to practice yoga even if we can’t get to the studio.  While it’s not the same, it’s great to still be able to practice, even if it’s in our home.  The only issue is when Daisy and Little Bit come up and lick our faces when we are in Down Dog, but we’ll have to deal with that.

• Alyssa Firestone, my colleague Drew’s wife, reached out to me and spent at least 45 minutes on the phone with me talking through Crohn’s Disease, the issues, problems, vitamins, probiotics, diet, things to watch out for, etc.  She has dealt with this disease for many, many years and at a much higher level than me, so I’m embarrassed to even say I have it.  But she spent so much time, and so patiently talked through what this could mean for me.

• Out of the blue, I got an e-mail from Chuck Achuff from church, just asking me how I was doing with everything going on.  He said that this was probably difficult for business, and asked how I was holding up.

• As we all navigate a brave new world of COVID-19, I have to say that our support system at WIKA has been incredible.  I’m always impressed with our Human Resources team at WIKA, but Cathy Bochenek is one of the most impressive people I’ve ever worked with.  She deals with Health and Safety, and she has been ahead of the game the entire time.  She has been her consistently amazing self.

• On top of that, our IT support team has been called to do a great deal of work to allow our personnel to work from home.  Justin Williams and his team are always ready, responsive and calmly do whatever is needed to ensure our personnel get what they need.  They have consistently gone above and beyond.

• As I mentioned earlier, MK Rodgers has been so much of what I needed on Facebook, she is real, she is honest, she says what we are all thinking and feeling.  I really needed that.

• On the other hand, Jimmy Shafe has consistently been the light that I may not always want, but I need.

• Brad Bryant and Bradley Kibler from church consistently are Brad and Bradley.  As we are trying to navigate how to do Sunday school classes and confirmation classes remote, Brad and Bradley are forces of positivity and persistence to ensure, we will make this work.

So yes, I started focusing on the helpers, and I started feeling much better.  As I rounded out the week, and I was on my morning run, the song “Glory in the Highest” started playing, and I felt so much better.  I started singing praise as I ran,

“Glory glory Hallelujah,

Glory, glory to you, Lord,

Glory, glory Hallelujah,

Hallelujah”

And then I remembered my mantra, whenever my brain and the demons inside of my brain try to drag me down, and I shouted out,

“I am baptized!  So fuck off!”

So many times, when we are dealing with difficulties in life, it’s easy to focus on those who are failing us, whether it’s our politicians, the media, each other, whoever it is, we can see who is letting us down.  But there are so many out there that are going above and beyond, in their own special way.  It may be something as simple as a kind word or a kind gesture.  That can make all the difference.

Is this the end of the world as we know it?  Who knows?  But what if it is?  Admittedly never the optimist, I’m pretty confident, we’re going to be fine.  There are enough of you out there that will bring light to the darkness, and no matter what we face, we’ll get through it.  Keep up the great work you all do. There are many of us who appreciate it.