I've Loved You For 1,000 Years, I'll Love You For 1,000 More!

It's Not Working

"Now there is a final reason I think that Jesus says, 'Love your enemies.' It is this: that love has within it a redemptive power.  And there is a power there that eventually transforms individuals.  Just keep being friendly to that person.  Just keep loving them and they can't stand it too long.  Oh, they react in many ways in the beginning.  They react with guilt feelings, and sometimes they'll hate you a little more at that transition period, but just keep loving them.  And by the power of your love they will break down under the load.  That's love, you see.  It is redemptive, and this is why Jesus says love.  There's something about love that builds up and is creative.  There is something about hate that tears down and is destructive.  So love your enemies." - Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

I guess like most people, when tragedy hits close to home, it hurts a little bit more.  Two weeks ago, Antwan Toney, a Gwinnett County Police Officer was murdered doing his job in Snellville.  As he approached a suspicious car, without warning, the people inside the car shot him and killed him.  Like most people, I have a special place in my heart for police officers, I can’t imagine doing what they do.  Any police killing tears me up, but this one was so close to us.  I kept thinking, when I went to the Snellville Farmer’s Market each week, when there was a police officer stopping traffic to let Laurel and I cross, could Officer Toney have been one of those officers?  I couldn’t get that thought out of my mind.

Through the glory of God (OK, some people can chalk it up to something else, but I would disagree), I had perfect timing the day of Officer Toney’s funeral.  Just as I was crossing over 316 on Sugarloaf Parkway, a fire truck pulled up, and stopped traffic.  I was sitting with a direct sight line down 316.  First I saw the helicopter hovering to my right, and then I saw the sea of lights.  First the motorcycles, then the cruisers.  I sat there for 40 minutes watching the sea of lights, blue lights as far as you could see.  Yes, I teared up several times, one, for the loss of a precious life that didn’t need to be lost, and two, for the beauty of the mourning and celebration of his life.  It was an incredibly inspiring moment for me, and I’m so thankful I had the opportunity to experience it.

Last week, it was the mass shooting in Pittsburgh.  Eleven people were murdered at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Squirrel Hill.  I had just been in that neighborhood a couple months ago, my Small Group from my former church, Westminster Presbyterian Church, had our retreat in that area.  Laurel and Megan had come to the area also, and eventually Laurel and I met family there, we had both grown up in the Pittsburgh area.  As Laurel noted, we had driven by the Tree of Life Synagogue during our time there. 

I know so many of us can say this about where we’re from, but Pittsburgh is still home for us.  We grew up there, and there’s something special about Pittsburgh.  As I’ve seen so many times, it’s a small, big city.  There are so many quaint neighborhoods like Squirrel Hill where everyone knows everyone, and everyone on a certain level is family.  That family lost a great number of its members that day.  And that shot or those shots were heard and felt throughout our country. 

Yesterday, I saw a beautiful article in “The Athletic” from a young man named Yogi Roth, detailing his ties to this tragedy, and how it impacted him.  Don’t know if you are a subscriber to that website, but if you are, read it.  It’s a beautiful article.  He talks about his grandparents, who were Holocaust survivors, and one of the things they always told him was, “Yogi – Love Wins”.

Now, I have to tell you, I’m a huge advocate and proponent of “love wins”, but my faith and belief in this has been sorely shaken these last few weeks.  I’m struggling to see where love is winning.  No matter what side of whatever issue we are on, there is very little love being shown.  While Jesus told us one of the greatest commandments was “love your neighbor”, we are failing miserably at that directive.

Maybe it’s just the fact that it’s the campaign season, and we are being inundated with hate speech, but really, is it working?  Whether the issue is immigration, LGBT rights, abortion, gun control, is it really working?  We take up our sides, we hold firm to our arguments, and we steadfastly argue those talking points until we have exhausted ourselves or anyone willing to listen.

I yell at you, you yell louder at me, I punch you in the nose, you punch me in the mouth, I bloody your nose, you bloody my lip.  Are we really accomplishing anything?  Have we made any significant change in how anyone really believes?  It’s not working.

We recently had an Adult Education series where we studied the book, “Seeing Gray in a World of Black and White”.  We discussed so many of these issues where each of us takes a stand, and defend that stand to the death, rather than trying to see the perspective of the other person.  Again, it’s not working.

In irony, I was driving home the one day, and there was a segment from a woman who called herself an “Abortion Bridge Builder” or something like that.  She had been a person who advocated abortion rights, and she had been fighting this battle for many years, and she finally realized, it wasn’t working.  She mentioned an evangelical minister who had the same realization.  Each side had dug in their heals so deeply, and nothing was getting accomplished.  So she reached out to try to bridge the gap and see how each side could reach a viable compromise.  What was ironic was the ones who fought so hard against her were the ones she had sided with previously.  She was viewed as a traitor. 

We can continue to dig our heels in, and fight against each other, or we can try to determine where we have some common ground.  If you think about it, there are many people you love dearly, who you also disagree with on many issues.  Does it make sense to yell at them, disparage them, embarrass them, humiliate them?  Or could you seek to understand, could you try to seek a common ground, a way to at least disagree, but disagree with a greater understanding and some compassion?

Will this prevent the tragedies that I mentioned, will it prevent the next police officer from getting killed, or the next mass shooting?  In all honesty, probably not, at least on the short term.  On the longer term, we have a greater obligation to ourselves and to our children to take hatred out of our dialogue with each other.  We can’t let it take over our lives, we can’t let it govern how we treat each other. 

I’ll go back to the article from Yogi Roth.  Toward the end, he gives us all a charge, which I loved.  He said, “I hope you will take action, whether it’s by calling someone you love, praying for someone you love, or standing up for something you love”.  As noted, read the article if you can.  It’s really a great article.

I’m going to take this a step further. Practice random acts of kindness.  It’s really not that hard.  It can be people you know, or strangers.  Be kind.  Do you know what that does for them?  Kindness can be incredible.  Pay it forward.  Do something for someone, pay something for someone, give something to someone, and if they ask, just say, “when you get the opportunity, do it for someone else.”  If all of us did this, seriously, can you imagine the impact we would have?  And it’s not that hard.

I’ve seen it, you’ve seen it.  I’ve seen it in a big way from Jeff Poynter.  He’s the Church Administrator at First United Methodist Church in Lawrenceville.  Jeff decided to run a marathon, for the first time in his life, with four goals in mind: glorifying God; honoring Cliff Ramos and Donna Bennett in their fight with pancreatic cancer; raising $10,000 for the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network; and finishing the marathon.  Jeff blew past the $10,000 and raised over $42,000.  With the recent events, Jeff’s efforts went a long way toward firming up my belief that love does win.

But it doesn’t have to be something as grand and glorious as what Jeff did, it is oftentimes the simple things in life that can make a difference.  I’ve seen it from so many caring and loving people at Ebb & Flow, our yoga studio, I’ve seen it at Shallowford Presbyterian Church, I’ve seen it from my Small Group from my former church, I’ve seen it at WIKA, I’ve seen it in my neighborhood.  I’ve seen people reach out and help those who needed it, who have taken the time to care and nurture for others, who have just done something to make someone’s day. 

Just as hate didn’t win in the concentration camps in Germany during World War II, just as hate didn’t win when Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated in Memphis in 1968, just as hate didn’t win in New York on 9/11/01, hate didn’t win when Officer Toney was murdered or when those 11 people were murdered in Pittsburgh. 

So for anyone who wants to work from an agenda of hate, it’s not working.  And it will never work.  Yogi Roth is right, love wins.  Love won on the cross, and love will always win. So please, call someone you love.  Pray for someone you love.  Stand up for something you love.  And be kind.  Just be kind.  It can make all the difference.

Who Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up?

“He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much, who has enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men, and the love of little children, who has filled his niche and accomplished his task, who has left the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul, who has never lacked appreciation of Earth’s beauty or failed to express it, who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had, whose life was an inspiration, whose memory is a benediction” – Bessie Anderson Stanley

Way back when I started my career, I used to post short term goals, and long term goals on my wall.  To be honest, I can’t remember anything other than my long term goal – to become commissioner of Major League Baseball.  Obviously that never worked out.  But I digress.

Our Small Group got together about a month ago for Katherine Ey's wedding, which was such a wonderful event, we had eight of our Small Group members and spouses there to celebrate with John and Beth Ey.  As we sat together late one evening, Nike Nihiser said to me, “I really don’t know how you write what you write.  One, you write so well, I could never write like you do, but you are so open, you put it all out there.  I could never share like that”.

It has probably been about 10 years since I started my blog.  One of our other Small Group members, Dave Carr, suggested it, and I started writing.  Our Small Group has always joked that when we grow up, we want to be Dave Carr.  Dave is a Renaissance man.  He reads, he journals, he blogs, he meditates, he thinks, he challenges.  Dave reaches out to those less fortunate, he follows what Jesus taught us about the “least of us”.  One of the things I love most about Dave is that he always works to be a “bridge builder”.  Whether he believes one way or another about a topic or issue, Dave will always reach out to those on the other side, try to understand their viewpoint, and try to figure out how to bridge the gap between the two sides. 

But the greatest thing I love about Dave is that he is so real.  When I first met Dave, years ago at Westminster Presbyterian Church, he seemed to be someone to put up on a pedestal.  As noted above, he was a Renaissance man, but I really didn’t know him until we went out to lunch the one day.  I found out, Dave wasn’t that different from me.  He had issues, fears, warts, Dave was real.  It’s funny, Dave ended up higher on that pedestal after I found out that he could open himself up so easily and admit what his flaws were.

Over the past several months, I’ve been re-immersing myself into one of my greatest heroes, Mr. Rogers.  With the recent documentary that came out, and the news of a movie coming starring Tom Hanks, I found my copy of “The World According to Mister Rogers” and started re-reading it, and also sharing it with people who I thought could use the inspirational words of Mr. Rogers. 

There are many nuggets of wisdom in the book, particularly surrounding the idea of “neighbors”, which isn’t unusual, considering Mr. Rogers’ theme of “won’t you be my neighbor”.  There’s a whole section that is titled, “We Are All Neighbors”, and it contains some of his greatest writings, such as:

“The more I think about it, the more I wonder if God and neighbor are somehow One.  “Loving God, Loving neighbor” – the same thing?  For me, coming to recognize that God loves every neighbor is the ultimate appreciation!”

“As different as we are from one another, as unique as each one of us is, we are much more the same than we are different.”

“Imagine what our real neighborhoods would be like if each of us offered, as a matter of course, just one kind word to another person.”

While Mr. Rogers’ thoughts and writings are incredible, what I had forgotten, and enjoyed the most, was the Foreword by Joanne Rogers, his widow.  The quote above from Bessie Anderson Stanley was the first piece, and she noted that Mr. Rogers used to carry around quotes like this for when he needed words of wisdom.  She noted another one from Mary Lou Kownacki that said, “There isn’t anyone you couldn’t love once you’ve heard their story”.  Mrs. Rogers said that her husband would always try to find the best in everyone.  When she was angry with someone, he would say to her, “But I wonder what was going on in that person’s day”.  He had a huge capacity for compassion for others.

What really struck me was what she said about how hard he worked to be who he was.  She said, “The outside world may have thought his qualities of wisdom and strength came naturally to him, but those close to him knew that he was constantly striving to be the best that he could be.  He was as human as the rest of us.”

I remember my first experiences meeting and being around Robby Carroll at Shallowford Presbyterian Church.  Robby served as the Minister of Pastoral Care and Counseling at the time, and Robby could capture your attention immediately.  He has a deep, raspy voice, and an infectious laugh.  I remember times sitting in the pews, and when there was a poignant sermon or a beautiful anthem, Robby would close it out with a booming “Hallelujah” or “Amen”.  What captured me most was seeing so many of the people at Shallowford, particularly the older people, who would come up and hug Robby, so many people just absolutely loved this guy.  It didn’t take long for me to see why, he has such amazing gifts.

I remember his retirement message, he gave it at “Pairs and Spares”, it’s a Sunday School class that is largely older people (like me) in the congregation.  As Robby spoke, I realized I was hearing something special, so I grabbed a scrap piece of paper sitting on a table, and a pen to jot down Robby’s message.  For those who know me, I’m sure you can believe this easily, I lost that piece of paper, and for as much as I’ve searched, I couldn’t find it.  So I reached out to Robby recently, and asked if I could spend some time with him and “rehear” his message.  When I told him, he said, “Well, I don’t know what I said exactly, but just like most ministers, I only have one sermon in me.”

As I listened to Robby, he spoke of redemption, he spoke of life experiences, he spoke of being on the journey with others and helping each other on the journey.  Robby is a recovering alcoholic, and he is able to use his experiences and the pain he went through to help those who are on the same journey or similar journeys.  Robby talked about“unconditional love and acceptance as the only way”, he spoke of “loving God and neighbor as yourself, and it starting with the self”.  Robby went on to say,

“I am privileged to be on the journey with folks who have lost hope in God and life itself.  We continue to pray that God will give us the wisdom, energy and insight to live our lives with compassion and care for all who suffer.  I am reminded of Jesus weeping over Jerusalem for all of the pain and struggle that is a part of life.”

What I loved the most and what has always drawn me to Robby is when Robby said, “Honest transparency is what we all need.  Honest transparency connects us with God.”  Robby is real, he is genuine, he is willing to bare his soul to help those who need to know “I’m not in this alone”.  Other people have gone through what I’m going through, and they’re willing to share that journey with me.

It’s funny, when I had set out to write this blog post, my title was going to be something like, “My apologies Dave Carr, I don’t want to be you when I grow up anymore, I want to be Robby Carroll”.  OK, the title is way too long, but I also realized, that’s not the message, and that’s not what I’ve learned through all of this.  What I came to realize is that while each of my “heroes” noted above have different qualities or ways of reaching those around them, they have one common theme.  They are real, they are genuine, they are willing to share who they truly are to help those that desperately need help.  They have hopes, they have fears, they have suffered, but they continue to persevere on, and they want to help others persevere on.  And that is why I do my best to emulate the best of what they have given us.

Going back to Nike’s comments, he’s right, I have made a concerted and intentional effort to bare my soul and heart to the world through my blog posts.  Admittedly, it sometimes makes people uncomfortable, real life can be hard for people to take, I get that.  But I think it’s important for people to know and see that there are many of us going through the same struggles that they are facing each day.  We’re all in this together, and we need each other, we can make a difference in each other’s lives. 

I know I can’t be a Renaissance Man like Dave Carr.  I know I can’t be an icon of our generation like Mr. Rogers.  I know I can’t be a beloved minister or counselor like Robby Carroll.  But I can be me.  And I can be real and genuine, and I can let people know, my journey isn’t always easy either, but I’ll happily share my journey with you, if it helps you on your journey.  Funny, it sounds a whole lot like, “Won’t you be my neighbor?”

This Week, Better to be Black than a Woman

Yesterday, I was listening to “Wait Wait … Don’t Tell Me!” on NPR, and one of the characters, obviously an African-American male, made that comment to a female on the show. While the comment got a great deal of laughter, it was wrong on so many levels. It is true, being African-American or being female in this country leaves you at the mercy of the “old white guys” that run this country. And, this week has definitely shown us, there is a very good reason that women don’t speak up when they’ve been sexually assaulted. The pain they go through to report it is oftentimes worse than the experience itself, and most of the time, people either don’t believe them or don’t care. It is a very sad reality.

This week exposed so much ugliness in our country, in our political system, in our inability to deal with each other in a civil and compassionate manner. It is hard to determine or imagine who came out in a positive light or in a “winning” manner this week. All sides chose sides, with no one willing to budge or hear the other person’s point of view. In the end, as noted, there were few that came out in a positive light, and mainly, we gave the late night talk show hosts and Saturday Night Live ample fuel for the comedic fire, there was so much great material that emerged from the circus or lunacy that was the Brett Kavanaugh hearings.

I do believe Christine Blasey Ford came out as the most likable, redeeming person in this whole unfortunate situation. She was believable, courageous, unflappable, and came across as someone who is incredibly honest. I do realize many would still not believe her, but I really don’t see anything in her testimony that would make you not believe her, I think it would have to be based on pre-conceived bias going in. While she came out in the most positive light, what she went through I’m sure was not worth it, she was subjected to the same scrutiny all victims go through, and it was tragic to watch.

I think Jeff Flake came to the party late, but at least he came up with a compromise that is workable and should be agreed to by both sides. To be honest, I don’t think the FBI will find anything, I’m really not sure they will be allowed to find anything, but at least he was willing to walk across the aisle and reach a compromise, something that no one else seemed willing to do.

As noted, late night talk shows, Saturday Night Live, all of the comics of the world have a slew of great material to work with. They came out as the biggest winners in all of this.

And the losers? Quite frankly, all of us, which is the biggest issue. Our government, our political system, our courts are completely broken. This was a shit show of epic proportions. I’m embarrassed for all of us, I’m sad for all of us, this is the representative government we have, and they did a commendable job of showing us what asses they all are.

The Republicans have once again shown themselves to be the party of old, rich white guys. They really don’t give a shit about anyone other than other old, rich white guys that help them get re-elected. That is all anything is ever about, and it doesn’t matter what is right or wrong, all that matters is money in the hands of the donor base and then back in their hands.

But the Democrats have nothing to feel proud about either. Whether you like him or not, they did pull a Pearl Harbor on Mr. Kavanaugh. They did everything they could to dig up as much dirt as they could, and they really didn’t care where or how they found it. I truly believe Ms. Ford when she said she isn’t a pawn, but the Democrats clearly used her as a pawn, and they had no problem trying to find any pawn they could find to destroy Mr. Kavanaugh. I’m sure no rock went unturned looking for dirt on him.

As Mercutio said in “Romeo and Juliet”, “a plague on both your houses”.

Of the whole group, the one who is the most laughable and despicable is Lindsey Graham. His tirade, his histrionics would be hilarious if this weren’t so serious. He bashed the Democrats for doing the same kind of shit the Republicans do every day. Lindsey loved to tie himself to the coattails of John McCain to gain credibility, but he’s cut out of the same cloth as all of the other hypocrites sitting in that room. I used to have a small amount of respect for Mr. Graham, but no more, that was a ridiculous charade put on for a job appointment. I call bullshit Lindsey!

Even the Evangelical Christian leaders couldn’t help but show their disdain for women in this world. Franklin Graham rushed to the aid of his president and judge, when he made these comments:

“It’s just a shame that a person like Judge Kavanaugh who has a stellar record – that somebody can bring something up that he did when he was a teenager close to 40 years ago. That’s not relevant…Well, there wasn’t a crime committed…And they call it sexual assault? No, I don’t believe it.”

Mr. Graham continues to display the type of Christian leadership that some of his predecessors like Jim and Tammy Baker or Jimmy Swaggart did, rather than the type of leadership his father, Billy Graham did. It’s truly a shame that people listen to him purely based on the fact that he is Billy Graham’s son rather than truly hear the hate and propaganda that he preaches each day.

Mr. Kavanaugh was probably one of the biggest losers in all of this. On one hand, I would never want to go through what he went through, and I doubt I would have done very well either. I have nothing in my past similar to what he is alleged to have done, but I have plenty from my high school and college years that I wouldn’t want on display for the whole country to see. Frankly, I’d probably just say no thank you to any type of political office because of this, but I don’t think this will ever be an issue.

On the other hand, after watching him on the several interviews I’ve seen with him, I have to say I really don’t like him or trust him. I don’t find him believable, I find him to have a smarmy attitude about him, I find him to wreak of “white privilege”. I see Brock Turner, I see Otter from Animal House, I see someone who believes he is above the rest of us and above the law.

Having said all of that, if the FBI doesn’t find anything more compelling, I don’t see how you could not approve him for the Supreme Court. With all due apologies to Ms. Ford, absent any other evidence, there just isn’t enough hard evidence against him, and I would venture to say after watching all of this, several of the justices on the Supreme Court would probably come across as unlikable, but that doesn’t disqualify them from the position. It’s sad though if this is the best we have for this position, I always have had a huge amount of respect for Supreme Court justices, and I can’t see feeling that way about Mr. Kavanaugh. My view of the court will be forever tainted if he is appointed.

Sadly, the ones who lost the most in all of this were the women in this country. They had made great strides with the #MeToo Movement, but it became painfully obvious that it only goes so far. Old, rich, white men still control this country, and it’s going to take so much more to make a change.

What really bothered me the most though was the women who came out in favor of Mr. Kavanaugh, or more so, the types of comments they made. I watched an interview with several women who were supporters of Mr. Kavanaugh, and here were a couple quotes, that I wrote down verbatim, that really struck me:

“In the grand scheme of things, my goodness, there was no intercourse. There was maybe a touch. Can we really, 36 years later, she’s still stuck on that. Had it happened.”

“We’re talking about a 15 year old girl, which I respect. You know, I’m a woman, I respect. But we’re talking about a 17 year old boy in high school with testosterone running high. Tell me what boy hasn’t done this in high school. Please I would like to know.”

First things first, I have never done anything like this, and I doubt many of my friends have. However, I have seen statistics as high as 60-70% of women who have been sexually assaulted, and as noted above, they don’t report it, for good reason.

I’d like to ask these women, if I took you into a bedroom, and locked the door, and climbed on top of you, holding your mouth, so you couldn’t scream or possibly breathe, you would be OK with this? Better yet, if you have a teenage daughter, and some teenage boy did this, you’d chalk it up to “boys will be boys” and tell your daughter to forget about it? Really?

Women will only come so far until they can somehow rationalize with women like this that this is wrong, it is flat out wrong, and shouldn’t be accepted. Women should not accept the norm that we have created through the years, women have to expect and demand to be treated with respect.

More importantly, those of us who are tired of our wives, daughters, friends, colleagues being demeaned and treated as objects and sexual conquests need to rise up and say enough is enough. I think about a woman who told me her daughter had been “date raped”. I think about a woman who told me she had gone through the same thing when she was younger. I think about Jeannette Wilson Hall who lost a beautiful daughter way too soon. And I’m sorry, this issue really pisses me off. We, as men in this world, can sit back and accept the whole idea or premise that boys will be boys, or we can rise up and say, we’re tired of those that we love being treated like this. We’ve had enough.

The Widowmaker Says Goodbye

You may be wondering, why in the world would you call Ken Landers the Widowmaker?  I guess I’ll have to fall back on my standard answer, beats the shit out of me.  I really can’t remember why, but I started calling Ken the Widowmaker years ago.  I really can’t believe this day is here, I can’t believe Ken is leaving, and I kept thinking that somehow he’d change his mind, but, I’m starting to think, he really is retiring.  As a preamble to some well-deserved comments (and humor) about Ken, I think it makes sense to start with some history of where we were and what it took to get where we are.

I joined WIKA 10 years ago as the Chief Financial Officer for WIKA Instrument.  I still remember that first day.  Within 10 minutes of getting there, my Controller, Ruth Berger, had resigned.  It was something she had been working on for a while, so it had nothing to do with me (at least she said!), but that was a tough way to start a new job.  We had a staff meeting with all of the accounting and controlling people later that day, and I remember looking around the room and thinking, what have I done?  I’m not quite sure what it was, but I just had the sense, something was amiss.

As time went on, I found out more and more, but the personnel in accounting and controlling had been through some very difficult times with a tyrant for a boss, and then several interim bosses.  I also found out later, that they had a pool started of when I would leave.  I think I’ve beaten the pool at this point.  Suffice it to say, the job was very challenging, and I’ll admit at times, I confided in my wife Laurel, I’m not sure if I can turn this around, it was such a mess.  I remember Nancy Cox-Lupori (my Accounting Manager, who had started a few months before me)  and I discussing financials, and it seemed every month we’d turn over a rock, and more worms would crawl out, it was so disheartening.

Eventually, Nancy and her team were able to clean up the accounting side, they were able to get the financials in really good shape, and there were very little worries on that side of the house.  But then there was the controlling side.  As noted, Ruth resigned, and I brought in a temp for the interim to try to keep things together.  Eventually, I hired a new Controller, and I thought we were back in business.  Now, I’m not sure about other people, but once in a while, you make a mistake, and you really make a bad hiring decision.  Unfortunately, that was the case here.  I quickly figured out, somehow, I had really screwed up in who I hired, and I had to make a change.  One of the difficulties was, my boss at the time, Michael Gerster, was really beginning to question my judgment.  I had been there about six months, and I had made a major error in hiring.  I couldn’t afford another one like that.

I started out searching for a new Controller, and as noted, I was really stressed about making the right decision, or if I put it negatively, not making the wrong decision again.  I also had to find an Assistant Controller because in the midst of evaluating the controlling staff, that was one of the issues we had.  After a great deal of interviews, painfully reviewing and talking to many people, I brought in a Controller, Jim Campbell, and an Assistant Controller, Ken Landers.

Now to say that Jim and Ken were old school would be an understatement.  They were very much out of the traditional school of controlling, they were both seasoned and had seen a great deal in their manufacturing careers.  Quickly they meshed, and they became a well-oiled machine, complementing the excellent accounting team we had with great financial analysis.  The other thing that I really appreciated out of them was that they were both so easy to work with.  If I needed something, I could quickly go to either of them, and say, “we need this analysis, please get it done”.  No fuss, no bother, they would quickly and efficiently comply.

Sadly, we lost Jim way too soon.  Jim had a stroke about eight years ago, and shortly afterward, he died.  While it was devastating to all of us, it was incredible how the accounting and controlling teams all pulled together to keep everything running without a glitch.  Ken had to bear a great deal of the burden, he was the one in charge for the time-being, and he shouldered that load the way he does everything, without any fuss, without any complaints, he just does it.

When I think of Ken, what always comes to my mind is the term we often use in business, “Steady Eddie”.  To be honest, I hate that term because too often we use that for average, but steady performers.  By no means is Ken average, he really knows his stuff, especially inventory, he has a great grasp on inventory and what is happening on the cost side of the business.  There have been several times lately where I’ve been discussing inventory issues with Ken, and I keep reminding him, “have you trained anyone on this?”  He just chuckles and says he will. 

While, as I’ve noted, Ken is really sharp and knows his job well, I really don’t believe people realized that at first.  You see, Ken talks Alabaman.  Not Southern, but Alabaman.  One of the greatest joys I’ve experienced here is when our colleagues from Germany come over, and they try to understand Ken.  Granted, it’s difficult enough for them to understand us, they speak German, and English is not their native language.  But to watch them stare intently at Ken when he talks, and watch them strain so hard to understand what he is saying, is priceless. 

Two of my other fondest memories of Ken had to do with when we had an intern in the department that didn’t quite work out.  Ken had the pleasure of supervising the intern, and it even pushed Ken’s buttons, which isn’t easy to do, Ken has a very pleasant demeanor.  I remember the one time, I was sitting in my office working, and all of a sudden, through the wall, I heard Ken yelling, “Matthew if I see you on video games one more time, I’m going to take that computer away from you!”.  I almost jumped out of my chair, I had never heard Ken raise his voice before, but he had been pushed over his limit.

The second incident was when I was in California at one of our other sites, and I woke up in the morning, three hours behind, and I see an e-mail from our intern Matthew saying, “Ken’s in the hospital, if you need anything, I’m in charge.”  I instantly panicked, and called the office, and Ken was there.  I asked him what the hell was going on, and he just sighed and said, “I was at the doctor, not the hospital, it was just an appointment.”  Crisis averted.

I can’t believe the Widowmaker is leaving us.  While I keep joking with one of Ken's younger colleagues, Angela Miller, that she's going to become Young Widowmaker or Widowmaker, Jr., I think it's only right that the Widowmaker name retires with Ken.  

You know, too often we take for granted those “Steady Eddie’s”, the ones who just quietly, efficiently get the job done.  I’m really going to miss that laugh of his, seeing him head to the parking lot with his apple every day, that long, Alabaman accent.  But I’m so happy for him that he is able to say goodbye and move on to his retirement.  I wish him well, he deserves it.  

You Did What?

Many years ago, there was a young lady who worked for me named Kelly Kitchens.  The one day, Kelly came into my office, and she started complaining about her husband.  I can’t remember what transgression he had committed, it doesn’t matter, but I stopped her at one point, and asked, “Tell me, has your husband ever tried to implement a purchase order policy?”  She looked at me in shock, and said, “Oh my God, no.”  I quickly said to her, “Well I did.  Your husband really doesn’t seem so bad after all, does he?”

I then related to Kelly the sad tale of the purchase order policy and the fallout that occurred.  Now, in my defense, we were in the process of moving, I had taken a new opportunity at my employer at the time, Barco, and we were moving from Dayton, Ohio to Kennesaw, Georgia.  We were sitting on a house that just wasn’t selling, and the finances were getting tight.  I was becoming desperate, I was losing my mind, trying to figure out how to make this all work.  I think I could possibly get off using the temporary insanity defense.  Or maybe not.

It all started the one Saturday evening.  I had been traveling back and forth between Dayton and Kennesaw, I was home for short periods at a time.  As I struggled, trying to figure out how we would manage this move, how we would sell this house, how we would get back together as a family, I started panicking about the finances while I wasn’t around.  I worried that money was just flowing out freely without me there to ensure we were fiscally conservative.  And thus the purchase order policy was hatched.  It was a perfect plan.  All purchases, large or small, had to be agreed to by both parties to ensure no unwise spending took place.  I even formalized it in a document, typed it up on the computer, with signature blocks for each of us. 

I know what you’re thinking right now.  This really couldn’t get much worse.  But it could!  You see, I decided to introduce this policy on Sunday before we went to church.  But not just any Sunday.  Mother’s Day!

After we got ready that morning, Laurel and I were in the kitchen, waiting for the kids to all get ready for church.  I pulled out the document, it was short, very efficiently-worded, and I showed it to Laurel.  I quickly could see, this may not have been my best idea that I’ve ever come up with.  I remember my brother Jim once taught me, “words are like bullets, once they’re out, you can’t get them back.”  I quickly wanted to reel them back in, but too late, the damage was done.  Laurel said nothing, she reached for her purse, she pulled out the check book, her credit cards, her cash, and said, “Here, you take care of everything.”.  She then said nothing else.

It just so happened that Laurel and I were teaching Sunday School that morning for a group of children, so she left before me, and I was taking all of the kids to church.  As I pulled into the parking lot at church, I couldn’t see her car, and the thought hit me.  She left me!  I went into church, and headed for the Sunday School room.  No Laurel.  I started quickly walking up and down the halls of Westminster, you have to understand, it’s a really big church with lots of hallways, still no Laurel.  I would see people, and ask, “have you seen Laurel?”  I remember the look of bewilderment on Patsy Stevens’ face when I asked her, I must have looked that crazy, but still, no Laurel. I started running up and down the hallways, full of fear and panic, stopping anyone I could see, “have you seen Laurel?”, no, no one had seen her.  Eventually, Laurel showed up at the Sunday School room, I tried to say something, but she was still sobbing and refused to talk to me.

While it would appear this story couldn’t be much worse, really, it was.  I had planned this beautiful Mother’s Day celebration that day.  When we got home, Laurel really wanted no part of it, but I convinced her that the kids had really gone to a great deal of effort, we couldn’t disappoint them.  I had written a poem for them all to recite, I don’t remember much of it, other than the first line, “Mother with your hair so brown, upon it you should wear a crown…”  The kids gathered around the fire place,  each one reciting their part of the poem, holding up the various presents, I remember a couple dresses and various other gifts for her.  It could have been so special!  I videotaped the whole event, the kids doing their best, and Laurel sitting their sobbing.  I even tried afterward to video tape an apology, it pretty much consisted of me saying over and over and over again, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”  Yeah, that didn’t work either.

One of the next few weekends, we had a Small Group meeting among the guys from my church, and we’d always start off with checking in, what is going on in your life.  I started off, telling my sad tale of the purchase order policy gone awry.  I still remember the look of horror on Sandy McConnel’s face when he said to me, “You did what?”  I know, I know, it was a really, really bad idea.

Over time, the pain did subside a bit, but it wasn’t a topic that was brought up.  We just tried to act as if it never happened.  Once in a while, someone at a social event might try to bring it up for humor, but Laurel still never saw the humor in the event, so the topic would quickly die.

Years later, we had moved back to Dayton, only to be moving back again to Georgia, this time to Duluth, Georgia, still with Barco.  John and Beth Ey put together a going away party for us, and many of our friends from Westminster were there, including several members of my Small Group and their spouses.  At one point, of course, the topic of the purchase order policy came up, I’m pretty sure it was John Ey that remembered it.  Some of the wives had never heard it, so John asked me to share the story.  By this point, Laurel had lost her anger about it, but it still wasn’t something she found funny.  So I shared the story once again, the whole sordid tale.  The funny thing was, Jill McConnel, Sandy’s ex-wife, was sitting near me, and it was déjà vu all over again.  She looked at me in horror, and said, “You did what?”  I know, I know, it was a really, really bad idea.

While it isn’t always easy to find a silver lining in unfortunate life experiences, I’ve done my best to find a “pony in the box” on this one.  Kelly Kitchens was the first, but I’ve used this story many times over the years with colleagues who may come to me complaining about their husband.  I quickly break into, “Has your husband ever tried to implement a purchase order policy?”  I then tell my sorry tale, and in virtually all cases, the young lady comes to realize, my husband isn’t so bad after all.  At least some good has come out of this really, really bad idea. 

If you want to share this story with someone who may need to hear that their husband isn’t so bad, or if you happen to be a husband, who needs to show your wife that you aren’t so bad, by all means, share my ill-conceived purchase order policy story.  Let it do some good.  Just please don’t mention this story to Laurel.  Even after 20 years or so, it’s still not a story that she looks back at and laughs about.

On a Scale of 1 to 10 ....

Each time our Small Group gets together for our annual retreat, we check in with each other, to see how each member is doing.  We ask each member, “on a scale of 1 to 10, where are you?”.  We often break it down to health, personal, emotional, work, etc. 

Our Small Group has been together since the mid-90’s, so it’s been a little over 20 years.  We are 10, we lost Scott Porter a few years ago, which was difficult for all of us.  We’ve taken on a couple new members over time, Dave Weaver has been the latest a few years ago.  It’s funny, it’s really as if he’s always been there, he just fits in so well.  Some of us have moved away, so we don’t get to see each other as much, that’s what makes the annual retreat so special.

This year, someone, I’m assuming it was John Ey, had the bright idea to have our retreat in Pittsburgh.  Other than the fact that Pittsburgh is an incredible city, it’s also where I grew up, so this was an extra-special venue for me.  Eight of the 10 were able to make it, and while it would have really been nice to have Jim Clay and John Gummel there, it was still a thrill to have eight of us there.  We stayed in Shadyside, we visited Shadyside Presbyterian Church, where one of our group, Sandy McConnel, was a minister many, many years ago.  We visited Mount Washington, the Carnegie Museum of Natural History, and we visited so many great places to eat.  I think as we get older, meals become a really important part of our lives.

Being the youngest in the group (probably the only place anymore that I am the youngest), I’m noticing signs of aging amongst us.  We’re starting to compare the various medications we take, the surgeries we’ve had, the ailments we are feeling.  Losing Scott a few years ago was sobering, but the fact that we are all seeing the effects of getting older is even more sobering.  It’s really tough when the reality starts hitting you that the number of years left are far less than the number of years you have experienced, and your body and mind aren’t what they were just a few short years ago.

Getting back to the “On a scale of 1 to 10, where are you?” question, one of the rules of Small Group is that everything stays inside the group, but I don’t think I’m breaking any confidences if I reveal my score and what I told my friends.  I rate myself an 8 or a 9, which is probably the highest I’ve ever been.  Why not a 10?  Well let’s hit the negatives first on why I’m not a 10, before we get to the positives of why I’m an 8 or 9.

The negatives:

• I still suffer from depression, which is a lifelong journey that I will always suffer from.  Just like various medical or physical ailments, depression is a disease that essentially is terminal.  The good news is that I often know when I’m heading downward, and I’ve been able to cope and deal with it. 
• My job has been painful to say the least for four years now.  We have been suffering from the economy, mainly in the oil and gas industry, and it’s devastating to be a leader in a business where the people are so good, so hard working, and deserve so much more than we are giving them.  I love the people I work with, and they deserve so much better than this.  I really feel like I/we have let them down.
• I worry constantly about our children, but I really believe that’s kind of a given in life.  I don’t believe I’ll stop doing this until the day I die, and I don’t think I’m that unusual.

The positives:

• I fall in love more and more every day with Laurel.  I really can’t imagine being more in love than I am, but each day seems to bring a new level.
• We have four really incredible children, who have turned into wonderful and caring human beings.  I really couldn’t be more proud of the people they have become.
• I get to come home and see Daisy running across the yard to the top of the fence, and Little Bit peaking under the gate, and when they see me, they run like crazy into the house to greet me at the door.  I feel for those few moments like the most loved person in the world.
• We have found an amazing church in Shallowford Presbyterian Church, with great preaching, great fellowship, beautiful music, a wonderful youth program, and a welcoming community that makes us feel like we are family.
•  A year ago, Laurel introduced me to yoga at Ebb & Flow.  The physical, the spiritual, the mental, those have all been an incredible transformation for me.  But it’s also the people.  Most of it, comes vicariously for me, I’m an introvert, Laurel’s the social one.  I’ve gotten to know so many wonderful people there, mostly from listening to Laurel’s conversations, but it’s just such a nice group of people.  Plus, the teachers are so inspiring. 

What I didn’t say, and I should have said, was to give credit where credit is due.  There is no doubt, I wouldn’t be who I am at this point in my life, and comfortable with who I am, if it weren’t for this group of men.  They have been there through all of the good and not so good that I’ve experienced through the last 20+ years, and I’ve learned so much from them.  In no specific order,

·       I’ve learned the beauty of grace.

·       I’ve pushed myself to think, to learn, to write, to “sharpen the saw”.

·       I’ve copied the tattoos on my heart to tattoos on my arms.

·       I’ve seen that God does give people second chances in life, and how wonderful that can be.

·       I’ve witnessed the love of a caregiver for a parent and spouse through very difficult times.

·       I’ve seen someone who is enormously busy at work still somehow find time for so many, whether it be one of us, or one of the least of us.

·       I’ve received those phones calls to keep you motivated and looking forward when all you want to do is wallow in self-pity.

·       I’ve watched as some grow older so gracefully.

·       I’ve seen a beautiful, heartfelt goodbye that was the perfect message to a  loving congregation.

·       I’ve learned that oftentimes it’s the quiet and gentle voice that speaks the loudest.

·       I’ve seen someone give so freely and generously of his time and talents while he struggles with his spirituality.  What a gift he gives!

·       I’ve been pushed to think differently, to act differently, to view those around me differently.

·       I’ve learned that we don’t always have to agree with each other, but we can listen and hear what each other has to say, and acknowledge that there is a different way to view things.

·       I’ve seen a father’s love of his children taken to a new level that I can only hope to somehow come close to.

·       I’ve seen that it may take many years, but love does win.

·       I’ve seen Micah 6:8 lived out, “to do justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God”.

The weekend ended, too soon as usual, with a meal, of course. We headed off our separate ways, knowing that these retreats will get harder and harder as we continue to age.  Many years ago, someone phrased something to me that at first, I found very odd.  She said, “He was such a good friend, I didn’t hesitate to ask a huge favor of him.”  At first, I thought of it as backwards.  But over the years, I’ve found it’s not.  There have been times, I desperately needed help, mainly with our kids, and I didn’t hesitate to call one of these guys, any day, and at any hour.  I know, they would do anything for me.  And I’d do anything for them.  

Let's Get Radical!

I’m a liberal. I’m a progressive. I’m a Democrat. I believe that it’s a sin and a shame that in this incredibly wealthy country, there are people living in poverty and that too many people are OK with that while the obscenely wealthy horde more and more of the wealth. I believe that if someone asks for sanctuary or asylum, I as an individual and we as a nation are morally obligated to help them. I’m not anti-capitalism; I am anti “fuck you, I got mine.” I am pro-immigrant, pro-woman, pro-family, pro-science, pro-education, pro-black lives matter, pro-free press, and pro-union. I believe in Mark 12:29-31 and all of Matthew 6. I believe that #loveshowsup, and that most people are decent human beings when it comes down to it, though it is getting harder and harder to hold on to that last part. If all of that makes me a socialist by your definition, I’m a socialist. I’m not ashamed of any of it.

MK Rodgers 

I recently saw this post on Facebook from MK Rodgers. For a little background, she’s the daughter of

one of my cousins, Bill Rodgers. Bill died about three years ago, he was one of my oldest cousins, and I always have great and fond memories of my cousins because of my Mom and her sisters and brothers. They made family special for all of us, so there’s a strong bond within the Irving family. This is a picture of Bill with MK at her wedding. That is such a great picture!

When I read MK’s post, it really got me thinking. I’ve been a conservative and Republican all my life. From the time I knew anything about politics, I think probably the 1968 election when Richard Nixon beat Hubert Humphrey, I’ve followed politics and been a hard-core Republican. I loved Richard Nixon (OK, Watergate kind of changed that), Ronald Reagan, George Bush, and even George W. Bush. I voted straight party Republican until 2016 (we’ll get to that), and I disliked any Democrat from Humphrey to George McGovern to Walter Mondale, and especially the Clinton’s. I still believe there was more to Whitewater than we ever found out, but that’s another story. I've always liked and respected Jimmy Carter, although I didn't think he was a very good president.  To be honest, I never really disliked Barack Obama, I wasn’t a big fan of the Affordable Care Act, but I just couldn’t bring myself to dislike, or despise, him like so many of my Republican friends did.

I believe in “trickle down economics”, I believe in fiscal responsibility, I believe in “a thousand points of light”, I did believe in Weapons of Mass Destruction (boy, really missed that one). Yes, I was a hard-core, conservative Republican. MK’s post got me to start thinking. What does the Republican Party stand for today? What is the narrative, or better yet, what are the actions that define the Republican Party today? Well, in no certain order, they are:

• We believe in closing down the borders of the United States and not letting immigrants in. While virtually all of us are either immigrants or descended from immigrants, we’re fine with putting a halt to it all. If you think about it, many of those who are coming here as immigrants are doing it to save their lives or the lives of their families, so our rejection of them is essentially a death sentence. We are basically saying, “I’d rather you die than live in the United States with me.” 

• We believe in separating families at our borders, when they have the audacity to try to crash
  our borders. We believe in putting children, many of them infants, in cages with little care and support. We even cite the Bible, our weapon of choice, to defend our position, although I’m sure we would like to ignore when Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” 
  

• We defend the Constitution and the Second Amendment to the death. Literally. We continue to carry our children off in body bags rather than seek some sort of compromise and sensible gun laws. Of course we do offer our thoughts and prayers each time it happens, so at least there’s that. I grew up with guns, I have no problem with guns, I just think there has to be some level of compromise on this issue?   I just have a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with the NRA having so many of us in their back pockets.  We are OK with our children dying as long as we can protect our right to our guns.
  

• We’re not so firm on the Constitution when it comes to the First Amendment, at least when it is someone who has an opposing opinion or belief. Freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of religion are only important if you think like me. Protesters are being targeted by this president and his supporters at Fox “News”, anything contrary to the Republican agenda is labeled “fake news”, and we are happy to have religion back in our schools again. What I really find interesting about the last point is the idea of what religion or whose religion? You know, it may sound great to exclude Muslims, Jews or Hindus, but in many cases, Christian religions view Catholicism as a “non-Christian” religion. I’m not so sure how the Catholics will feel if they are on the outside looking in, and I really have a problem with how many of the conservative denominations view Catholics. I find this to be a very slippery slope, but the key point is we want to exclude anyone who is different. 

• We proposed and passed a tax bill that we touted as benefiting the middle class and lower wage earners. Let’s be honest, while it did, that wasn’t the overriding purpose, and that wasn’t the group that it benefited the most. It benefited the rich, clearly, that was the intent from the very beginning. The problem is that there isn’t enough money to cover many of the programs that are needed to support the country, so many cuts are and will be proposed. And we have left an enormous debt for our children and our grandchildren. While it’s always nice to have some extra money, I don’t need this tax cut. I’d rather see this money go to programs to help those who need this money more than me. I also don’t want to leave this world a much worse place for my children and grandchildren. This tax cut is pure selfishness to put more money in the pockets of the wealthy. 

• We are unwilling to allow gay couples to adopt children. Let me tell you a brief, and I’ll admit, anecdotal story. There is a gay couple that we know of that adopted an infant from India. The infant had been used for sex trafficking by her mother. She is now a teenager, and lives in an incredibly caring home and goes to church and youth group weekly. I have my doubts that if this couple didn’t adopt her if she would be in such a good place today, let alone alive. One story, but why in the world are we so against allowing gay couples to adopt children and give them a loving home? 

• We have lost sight of who are our allies and who are our enemies. We shit all over our allies, and we heap praise all over our enemies. Maybe someone should consult Webster’s Dictionary to make sure we understand the meaning of these words, because I don’t think those words mean what we think they mean. 

• We treat our environment like it is a never-ending resource. Going back to the tax issue, we are selfishly leaving a much worse world to our children and grandchildren. 

• We tell lies, and we double down on those lies. We use the excuse, “politicians always lie”. OK, that’s probably true, but we tell blatant lies that are easily disproved by facts and data, but then we just tell the lies again and again. And we just don’t care. 
  

• We are the party that is supported by “Christian leaders” like Franklin Graham and Jerry Falwell, Jr. who continue to spew their hatred for Muslims and the LGBT community. We are the party that is supported by the racists at Fox “News”. We are the party that is in bed with the NRA, one of the most evil organizations in the country. 

Wait. Where was I going with this?

When I look at MK’s post, I really struggle with disagreeing with any of it other than the union part. She stands for values that are moral and humane, I’m not quite sure how you could disagree with them. Oh my God, does that mean I’m a liberal? A progressive, a socialist, a Democrat? I’m definitely not a Democrat, I still despise Hillary Clinton, and I find many of the Democrats like Bernie Sanders and Nancy Pelosi to be awful politicians and leaders. But I did vote for Mrs. Clinton over the horrible excuse of a human being who is currently the president, and I will continue to vote straight party Democrat at least until he is out of office.

But as is apparent from the various actions noted above, this president is only part of the problem, we as the Republican Party are the root of the problem. So did we change or did I change? I think a little bit (or a lot) of both. Over the last several years, various hard-core conservative factions of the Republican Party have emerged, espousing various forms of greed, exclusion and racism. Over the last several years, my faith, my commitment to being a devoted follower of Jesus Christ has left me unable to ignore the huge divide in this country and world between those who have and those who don’t. Quite frankly, it’s just overwhelming to me.

If I can’t live with the ways of the current Republican Party, and I can’t overcome my 50 years or so of disliking the Democratic Party, where does that leave me? Well, I’ve been thinking about that a lot, and I keep going back to a sermon the Reverend Doctor Davis Chappell gave several years ago. He said people often ask him, would Jesus have been a Republican or a Democrat? Dr. Chappell said, “Jesus wasn’t a Republican. Jesus wasn’t a Democrat. Jesus was a radical.” I know many of my long-time friends would find this hard to believe, but I’ve actually strongly considered marching in protests against some of the atrocities going on in this country. I know what you all are thinking - old, white, conservative accountant Steve McCullough marching in protests? Yeah, it sounds really crazy after 58 years of being a good corporate citizen. And thinking about something and actually doing it are two different things. But I think it’s time to get radical.

Journey of Faith

Editor’s Note:  Last week I gave my Journey of Faith along with eight other incoming Elders at Shallowford Presbyterian Church.  Each story, each journey was beautiful in its own way, I was overwhelmed by the emotion and powerful stories of each person as they shared what God has meant to them in their lives.  I did this exercise about 25 years ago, the first time I became an Elder, so my journey is even further along, and my faith is even stronger.  As a very wise friend, Jeff Poynter, would say, I’m not at graduation day yet, so I still have a lot of growing to do.  There’s not a whole lot different than some of you have already read before, but here is my Journey of Faith as presented last week.

“Did you ever wonder where the love of God goes when the waves turn the minutes to hours?”

We’ll get to that in a few minutes. 

First, let me introduce myself since some of you don’t know me.

I’m Steve McCullough - 

• I'm a devoted follower of Jesus Christ and am thankful every day for the beauty of Grace.
• I've been married to my wife Laurel for over 35 years, and she's the best friend I've ever had.
• I have four children, Megan, Kelly, Patrick, and Sean, and I try my best to be a caring and loving father.
• I am currently the Chief Financial Officer for WIKA Americas, and I am responsible for North and South America.
• I currently serve on the Board of Trustees of United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio.
• I have previously served as an Elder, Trustee and Deacon at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Dayton as well as on many different committees.

I like to look at my life in snapshots, times in my life when I needed God most, and of course, God was there.  I’ve chosen three snapshots to take a look back at.  They are:

A River Runs Through It

Several years ago, my brother Billy committed suicide.  There were three of us growing up, Billy was the oldest, and he was the extrovert.  He could talk to anyone, he had many friends, he had a way about him that endeared him to many people.  He was also an alcoholic.  He battled alcoholism for many years, and even when he tried to stop, he’d go into convulsions, his body couldn’t handle it.  So he gave up, he gave in and ended it.

If it were that simple, but there is a valley of depression that unfortunately runs through my family, I lost a great uncle to suicide, a great aunt, and then my brother.  While it’s painful to lose a sibling to suicide, it’s even harder for the parents, and I don’t think my Mom and Dad were ever the same.  We rarely talked about Billy over the years, my brother Jim and I would, we’d vent our anger, reminisce and laugh at the memories, and eventually come to terms with it.  But you never get over that nagging question, “what could I have done?”  While many suicides take loved ones by surprise, I don’t believe any of us were surprised.  Billy would wax philosophically about suicide growing up, he would talk about it like it was a badge of honor.  But even with that sneaking suspicion that you knew what was coming, still, what to do to prevent it?  I still don’t know, but I became passionate about the subject and committing that no matter what, I would do everything possible to prevent anyone I knew from doing this.  This would come in handy further down the road, but we’ll get to that. 

If you’re familiar with the movie, “A River Runs Through It”, there is a closing sermon delivered by Reverend Maclean after the death of his son.  In it, he says:

“Each one of us here today will, at one time in our lives, look upon a loved one and with need, ask the same question: ‘We are willing to help, God, but what, if anything, is needed?’  For it’s true we can seldom help those closest to us.  Either we don’t know what part of ourselves to give, or more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted.  And so it is those whom we live with and should know who elude us, but we can still love them.  We can love completely without complete understanding.”

Love Endures All Things

Many years ago, I reached the conclusion that my marriage to Laurel wasn’t working.  I didn’t see a future for us together, and I determined that it would be best for each of us to find our true soulmate, the one who could make us the happiest.  Maybe I had watched too many movies, too much TV, not sure what it was, but I believed there was something better, something bigger out there.   I left, I became a vagabond of sorts.  I lived on friend’s floors, in their spare rooms, I eventually got an apartment of my own. 

The whole time, Laurel never gave up, who knows why.  I gave her every reason to give up on me, in some ways I kept believing, if she were really smart, really strong, she would just say the hell with me, and move on.  But she didn’t, she never gave up, she never gave in, she kept pushing and pushing me to come back.  I found out how strong, how committed, how dedicated she was.  She believed in our marriage, she was committed to our marriage, and because of her ability to endure all things, we are still together today.  If it weren’t for her, who knows what Megan and Kelly’s lives would have been like and of course, Patrick and Sean would have never been born.  Her love and commitment changed our lives completely.

Unfortunately, while Laurel forgave me, gave me my life back, I couldn’t forgive myself.  I’ve spent the past 25+ years beating myself up and fearing how God would punish me for what I did.  As a great theologian said to me a few months ago, “I’ve discovered in myself that this is my desire to boot God from the seat of judgment and place myself there.” 

I also had a major epiphany on Christmas Eve when Chris reminded us of the words of wisdom from our friend Linus, “Fear Not”.  Those tiny two words, repeated by a tiny cartoon character many years ago, brought into focus once again, what has held me back for so many years.  Stuck agonizing over my past failures, fearing what the future holds in store, wanting to take control from God, which I know is ludicrous and makes no sense, and those two words brought it all back into focus for me.  I can’t change the past, and in so many ways, I wouldn’t.  While I have some huge black marks on me from my past, I also have thousands or millions of things of beauty that define my past.  I can’t control the future, and quite frankly, I’m pretty sure that God has a better idea of what my future should look like than I do.  I need to learn to accept that.  I need to stay in the present, be the best me in the present, which will help me be a better person in the future.

Providence

Let me take you back five years ago to 2013 and when all hell broke loose for our son Patrick and the rest of the family as well.  Patrick had just gone back for his second semester of his sophomore year at Grove City College in Pennsylvania.  In January, we started getting some distressing calls.  Just a few weeks earlier, he had seemed very happy, but that had changed dramatically.  As the weeks went by, he was plummeting.  Each conversation was getting deeper and deeper into depression.  I finally told him, if he wanted to come home, just come home.  He then said the words that no parent ever wants to hear.  He said, “you won’t be disappointed in me?”  I told him no, I could never be disappointed in him. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t come home soon enough, and we got a call from the counselor on campus that Patrick was planning to commit suicide, and he wanted to admit him to a local psychiatric hospital.  This was our first experience with a psychiatric hospital, and we learned a lot, particularly patience.  Imagine yourself as a parent, and your child is five or six states away, and he is in a psychiatric hospital that you’ve never seen, and you can only talk to him once a day?  We patiently would wait for that time each evening, when we would get 10-15 minutes on the phone with Patrick, and try to decipher what was going on.  As soon as we were able, Laurel and Kelly got a flight up to Pennsylvania to see Patrick in the hospital, which gave us a whole lot of comfort.  We were eventually able to secure Patrick’s release from the psychiatric hospital, and we were able to bring him home.

When we brought Patrick home, we had some significant adjustments to make.  We hid all of the knives in the house, or anything else that we believed he could hurt himself with.  Laurel spent many nights sleeping in the spare bed in Patrick’s room to make sure that he didn’t hurt himself.   But the pain for all of us was just beginning.  Shortly after Patrick came home, Patrick revealed the one night at dinner what had led him to want to commit suicide.  He revealed that his private music teacher from his middle school and high school years had sexually abused him. 

I have to admit that when I heard what had happened, I had no reaction.  No anger, no tears, no nothing.  I was stone cold in my emotions, I was completely numb.  It wasn’t for about another week or so, as I was driving down the road, and all of a sudden, the damn burst.  The tears, the anger, the hate burst forward, I flooded with emotions, and couldn’t control them.  I desperately wanted to hurt or kill the person who had brought this devastation down on my son, but I knew that wasn’t the solution.

My morning runs progressed through my emotions, as I worked through the pain and the anger.  Initially, my prayers would be “please get the devil off my back, dear God, don’t let me do anything stupid.”  I’d work my way to “please heal Patrick dear Lord, please heal him.”  I never worked up to the ultimate prayer, “Thy will be done, Lord, thy will be done.”  That is always the most difficult prayer, and I just couldn’t bring myself to that prayer.

Each day with Patrick was an adventure, he had become a box of chocolates.  You never knew what the day would bring.  I remember one morning, as we sat at the breakfast table, Laurel just burst into tears.  I have to admit, this was a major “oh shit” moment for me, she has always been the strong one, and she was broken.  I remember so many nights going to bed and praying to God, I just can’t take this anymore, I just can’t do this.  And I’d wake up, and do it all over again.  The funny thing was, I’ve never been closer to God in my life.  I had given up, I had given in to God, I had finally acknowledged, I can’t do this by myself. 

Eventually, Patrick progressed, he climbed out of the depths, through various counselors and medication, he emerged from the depths of hell.  He was able to go back to school, to Oglethorpe University, and that was mainly because we wanted to keep him close by.  Unfortunately, he has fallen far away from God and is angry at God for letting this happen.

We still had some rocky moments along the way.  Patrick still has his moments, he can dip into depression at times, and at times, he can plummet into depression.  The one night, somewhere around midnight, we got a call from Patrick, from up in Providence, where he is in grad school.  He was completely irrational, crying uncontrollably, talking gibberish, making no sense at all.  As each of us talked to him and tried to gain some understanding and tried to calm him down, Laurel finally asked the important question.  Are you still taking your medicine?  Apparently he had quit taking it a few days ago, and I guess, this was the outcome.  I’m not sure if you have been down the road of trying to talk rationally to a completely irrational person, but it’s not easy.  The common mantra was he’s a terrible person, he doesn’t deserve to live, and he just wants the pain to go away.

As I sat there, trying to wake up, get my senses, figure out how to rationalize with him, it hit me, as it has before, this is probably going to be our reality for as long as he lives.  He will go along, seeming to be fine, and then there will be something, that sets him over the edge, and we will be back in crisis mode again.  The key though is as long as he is alive.  I watched what it did to my parents when my brother committed suicide, and they were never the same again.  I will gladly take nights like that over the alternative.  We will continue to have to talk him off of the proverbial ledge probably over and over again.

One last thing and then I’m done.  I have to confess, I’m a sermon geek.  I love great sermons.  I download them, I print them, I carry them with me, I refer back to them, I share them with people, I use them in my blog posts.  I can visualize the sermon being delivered, I can hear them still in my mind.  Whether it’s “A Rose in Winter”, “Play the Ball Where the Monkey Drops It”, “Take This One Literally”, “Being Uncertain”, I carry them, I go back to them, I visualize them.  I can see and hear Chris saying “tattoo this on your arm”, Bradley ripping up her planner or Catherine talking about that one thing.  Many have told me I’m a wellspring of useless information, but I disagree when it comes to sermons, they have gotten me through a great deal in my life.

So getting back to it.  Back on November 12, 1995, Sandy McConnel preached “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”.  While there have been many sermons I quote and go back to, this is probably my “go to” sermon.  Sandy paints the picture of when the Edmund Fitzgerald sank that day, and the song Gordon Lightfoot penned about the tragedy.  The line above is from the song, and I can still hear Sandy saying that line, and the utter silence in the sanctuary when he said it:

“Did you ever wonder where the love of God goes when the waves turn the minutes to hours?”

“When the Edmund Fitzgerald went down in Lake Superior, God was not present to intervene and prevent the wreck, but nonetheless God was not absent.  God was then and is now mysteriously and powerfully with us, deep in the heart of life: participating in what happens with us and through us; offering faith and courage, even in the midst of tragedies; assuring us that the risk and pain of trying to care and to be creative are worthwhile.  The God who does not intervene, who cannot be seen is yet present as the Spirit of all that is.  God is willing to share in all the consequences of creation – including evil and suffering – and God is seeking to transform them through love.”

Amen, and thank you for listening.