My Thoughts and Prayers Are With You .....

“ What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” James 2:14-17

I guess it hit me when the shooting happened at a church in Texas back in November last year. I remember when the news feeds erupted, TV, internet, everywhere, with the story of over 20 dead at a church. While people worshipped, a gunman mercilessly murdered them. What I remember most at that time though was my reaction. Nothing, really. My immediate response was, “Oh, another mass shooting.” That was about it, nothing else, just another day in the life.

It wasn’t until later that day when the story unfolded, and I got to see the faces, see the carnage, that I cried. Part of it was tears for all of those helpless victims who had no business losing their lives so soon, so senselessly, while they worshipped. Part of it was tears of anger and rage at myself for what I’ve become. I lost my ability to care. Maybe just temporarily, but that was enough of a wake-up call for me. For that brief period of time, I just didn’t care, I had become so numb to the crazy number of mass shootings, I had no emotional reaction whatsoever.

The irony is that when I started writing this blog post, Laurel mentioned the Orlando shooting, and I thought to myself, I almost forgot about that one. And then she said, “I almost forgot about the Texas shooting.” Is that who we’ve become? Is it just another day in the life? We’ve just grown to accept shooting massacres and move on?

I find it interesting and almost humorous, some of the silly discussions or arguments that went on after this one. Have there really been 18 school shootings this year? Well no, that’s just more fake news! The media is blowing it out of proportion. Does it really matter? Isn’t one mass shooting one too many? What if it were your child, or my child, wouldn’t one be too many?

We like to hold ourselves out as the greatest nation, I would argue that, I believe that ship has sailed a long time ago, but I still believe we have an awful lot of pretty smart people out there. No one can come up with some ideas to deal with this? My liberal friends say, “Let’s ban assault weapons, let’s have more gun control.” Yes! My conservative friends say, “Let’s bring in out-of-work ex-military personnel or ex-police officers to guard the schools or arm the teachers.” Yes! Let’s do something, let’s do anything! I’m amazed at the continual malaise, the constant “that won’t work”, why do we have so little desire to do anything to address this? 

I’ll readily admit, I don’t have the answers. I don’t know if tighter gun laws will work, I grew up with guns, and I’ve been around them most of my life, but I think we need to investigate this. I do believe one of the most difficult issues is the fact that the NRA has many Congressmen in their back pocket. I’m not exactly sure how someone like Marco Rubio can live with himself after 17 students and teachers were murdered in his home state when he’s taking millions from the NRA. He has to live with himself, he has to look in the mirror every day, not sure how he does it, I know I couldn’t.

But then again, how do we live with ourselves? We love to do what the politicians are so good at doing these days, we like to say “My thoughts and prayers are with you.” I’ve grown in my life to despise those words, we’ve gotten to the point that we use that phrase like we say “how are you?” Thoughts and prayers without action is meaningless. We are calling our politicians to action, but we are also called to action. We need to demand action, we can’t continue to sit idly by while our children are being crucified. Stand up, be heard, write letters, vote those who the NRA supports out of office, demand our politicians stop taking money from the NRA, demonstrate, march, protest. Are our children not worth it?

So just try to imagine, imagine putting Colin or Carter or Nicholas or Rachel or Laura on the school bus tomorrow. Imagine that thought in your mind as you wonder, could this be the day? Will I ever see them again? Should I squeeze them even tighter? Should I tell them even more how much I love them?

Just try to imagine one of the teachers in your family, think about Leah or Holly, have you told them, please don’t be a hero, don’t be a human shield for your students, even though you know, it’s worthless to tell them that, they love their students too much not to sacrifice their lives for them. Have you thought about them every day and thought, could this be the day? When was the last time I told them how much I loved them?

OK, I know I’m old, but I’m going to pull one out from back in the day. What would Jesus do? Do you think Jesus would just sit by while his children were being murdered? Look at some of the faces of children I’ve posted that have been executed at their schools. Think about if that were your child. Jesus said, “Let the children come to me.” He didn’t say deliver them to me in body bags. When will enough be enough?

“I can see Your heart in everything You’ve done

Every part designed in a work of art called love

If You gladly chose surrender so will I

I can see Your heart

Eight billion different ways

Every precious one

A child You died to save

If You gave Your life to love them so will I” 

Hillsong United – “So Will I”

He Ain't Heavy ....

Just like so many families, when we all get together, there is someone who has to hear the old stories that have been regenerated every time you get together.  In our case, it’s my niece Molly.  She loves to hear those stories from when her Dad, my brother, Jim and I were younger and my brother tormented me.  She will say, “tell us that story about when you were riding in the car ….?”  And it all begins.

Many, many years ago, I would gladly go anywhere with my older brother.  He was a teenager, I was about six years younger, and I’d gladly go with my brother, riding wherever he would take me.  I’m sure there are many stories of how he would make my life miserable, I mean, what else should an older brother do to a younger brother (think Wayne and Kevin from The Wonder Years), but there are two that always come up, and to be honest, for good reason.

I’m not really sure which is my “favorite”, but there was the one time, it was a hot, sticky summer day, and remember, way back then there was no air conditioning in most cars.  I was drinking a milk shake from McDonald’s, and Jim decided it would be really funny to slam on the brakes, and then gun the engine, just as I was taking a drink.  It was inevitable that I poured most of my milkshake down the front of me.  I then had the pleasure of sitting in a hot car for the rest of the ride with a shirt full of sticky milkshake.  And of course hearing my brother laugh at my misfortune.

And then there was the time that we were riding down the street, and Jim said, “Look out the window and see what that sign says.”  I of course complied, and as I stuck my head out the window, he hit the brakes, and I banged my head into the side of the window.  And again, of course, Jim got a great laugh out of my misfortune.

Now, before you get to feeling too sorry for me (if you do), in so many ways, I deserved whatever I got.  You see, growing up, I was the much younger brother to Jim, and our older brother Bill.  When I was young, I always wanted to tag along with my brothers, wherever they went, and my Mom always insisted that they let me.  Whenever they went out with friends to play football, baseball, whatever, I was there.  Whenever they had a girl over, I was there.  Whenever they did anything out of line, I was there.  And I was a pest.  I was a tattletale.  I was the stereotypical spoiled baby of the family.  While I know the word hate is a strong word, for a long, long time, my brothers probably hated me, and really, for good reason.  So whatever torture I received over the rest of my childhood, it was probably warranted and well-deserved.

But the torment and torture doesn’t tell the full story.  Over time, Jim spent a great deal of time with me, taking me with him so many places.  I’ve shared before in blog posts, he used to take me to many Pittsburgh Pirate games each summer.  We’d drive to Pittsburgh, park on the streets in North Side, go to the games and get $1 general admission tickets, and get a Coke, and we’d be out of there for less than $5.  As we grew older, Jim would take me hunting and fishing, and we’d spend a lot of time walking around the woods or sitting at a pond or lake, and I wasn’t that spoiled little brat anymore, or at least I don’t think I was.

As time has gone by, the story even changed, and we had more to bring us together.  Into our adulthood, we experienced a tragedy, our brother Bill committed suicide.  As I’ve noted previously, I don’t think there is a greater loss than a loss of a child, and losing a child to suicide is even harder.  But it’s also not easy to lose a sibling, and again, it’s even harder when you lose a sibling to suicide.  After Bill died, I went through a wealth of emotions, trying to figure out how this happened.  I would be driving down the road, and I’d be lost in my thoughts, I’d vacillate between missing Bill, wanting him back, trying to figure out what I could have done to prevent it, to being so angry at him for what he did.  I couldn’t believe he could do this to us, do this to our parents.

Through it all, it really wasn’t feasible to talk about Bill and what happened to my parents, it was too painful for them.  For the most part, we never talked about him, it was off-limits, at least from my perspective.  But Jim and I talked.  At first, we would vent, we would voice our anger toward Bill for what he did.  We would talk about how angry we were, how hurt we were, how we couldn’t believe what he did to our parents, to us.  Eventually, our anger subsided, and our discussions turned to stories, stories of growing up, stories of when we were brothers, and some of the funny things Bill used to do.  Bill was always larger than life, he did everything in a big way.  Jim and I had so many stories, Jim more than me, since they were closer, but we would share those stories, and laugh, we would laugh at better times, times when there were three of us, and we would relive those memories.

As time went on, and as our families grew up, Jim became more of a mentor to me.  While I have various great friends that I reach out to, there are certain things that you talk to your brother about because they know you as family like no one else does.  One of my favorites, and I won’t go into the details, partly so as not to bore you, but also because of the level of embarrassment I have for the stupidity of what I did, I remember telling Jim, and his immediate reaction was, “Oh my God, don’t tell Dad”.  To which I quickly said, “I already did”, and his quick and immediate response was, “Why in the world would you do that.”  I know, I know, I know, really bad decision. 

Most of the time, I would call Jim about my children, issues surrounding them and some of the issues he had been through.  Maybe it’s genetics, maybe it’s the way we were raised and how we raised our children, but we’ve faced many of the same or similar issues.  I’ve been able to pick Jim’s brain and get some counseling when I’ve needed it.  Don’t get me wrong.  He doesn’t have all of the answers.  There are times, he just starts laughing, and says, “Good luck with that one.”  But he eventually starts talking through the issues and tries to help me deal with whatever the problem is.  There are times he is very supportive, and there are times he shows no sympathy for me, and kicks me in the ass.  You know, quite frankly, when he does, just like when we were younger, I really deserved that ass-kicking. 

We have entered a new stage in our lives.  We are both getting old(er).  No, we don’t call each other and talk about our latest aches and pains, hip replacements, arthritis or things of that sort (although we could compare notes on receding hair lines).  We’ve dealt with the loss of our Dad, and how difficult that was.  As much as you realize that death is just another part of life, it doesn’t make it any easier when it’s your parent. 

Now, we are dealing with our Mom getting older, and the difficulties of watching her go through the inevitable changes that old age brings.  Jim is the one who has, and still does, all of the heavy lifting.  My Mom lives close to Jim and my sister-in-law Laura, and they do everything for her.  Recently my Mom asked me if Jim ever complains, and I was able to say without hesitation or reservation, “No, I’ve never heard him complain.”  And he doesn’t and I could never imagine he would.  Jim is just an incredible and amazing son who would do anything for my Mom and also did everything for my Dad.  Similar to my comments above, I’m not looking for any sympathy or any reassurances, Jim is a really good son, and I’m extremely thankful for all he does for my Mom, as is she.

So it may sound crazy, but I relish those stories of the car rides where I took a milkshake bath or my head got smashed against the inside of the door.  I relish those car rides to Pirate games, listening to KQV and 13Q, riding through the streets of North Side with all of the potholes.  I relish those days of sitting on the banks of that little pond in Slippery Rock, catching more mosquitos than fish, or that time that our cat stole Jim’s freshly skinned rabbit from him and took it underneath the trailer.  I relish it all, and I’m thankful for the great father he is, the great grandfather he’s become, and the amazing son he is.  But most of all, I’m thankful for….

He’s my brother.

Old Dog, New Tricks, Part 2

Editor’s Note:  In my writing, I’ll be referencing the book, “Same Kind of Different as Me”, which has also been made into a movie.  If you haven’t read the book or seen the movie, and plan to, spoiler alert, I will be divulging the plot and storyline, which may ruin it for you.  Stop reading now if that is the case.

I recently read a post on Facebook from a friend, and it was from someone that they knew that had gone through a moment in a grocery store that triggered a flood of emotions for that person.  She had lived in the area previously, been married, raised a family, and subsequently got divorced.  When she entered the grocery store, it all came rushing back to her, and she couldn’t contain her emotions.  The experience, the memories of her family life, were just too much.

 This emotional story came to roost for me in a bit of a different way, but still, very emotional all the same.  Our Adult Education class has been reading and discussing “Same Kind of Different as Me”, and as I sat alone one Saturday, catching up on all of my reading while Laurel was gone for the day, I found a story that hit just a little too close to home. 

“God of salvation
You chased down my heart
Through all of my failure and pride”

It’s a true story of a couple in Texas, who gradually grow into affluence.  As they grow wealthier, and find the better things in life, the husband, Ron, gradually strays, and has an affair.  When his wife, Deborah, finds out, instead of kicking him out, divorcing him and taking him to the cleaners, she first wants to talk to the other woman.  She does, and surprisingly, she tells the other woman she forgives her.  Next, she tells Ron their lives have to change, and she introduces him to helping out at the local homeless shelter.  While Ron struggles with being around the “lesser of us”, Deborah embraces it and eventually wins over all she works with at the shelter, including a very angry and sometimes violent African-American man, Denver, who has led a terrible life and been homeless for many years.  Eventually, Ron becomes a little more comfortable, and he and Denver somehow become friends, but it wasn’t without a great deal of trials along the way.  Sadly Deborah contracts cancer, and eventually dies, but her legacy lives on through the friendship of Ron and Denver, and the homeless shelter built in her name to honor all that she had done.

As best I could, I just summarized a beautiful story with many emotional upheavals into one paragraph, missing many critical parts along the way, but hopefully, you get the picture.  While the story isn’t exactly the same as ours, as noted, it hit way too close to home.  As I’ve noted in previous blogs, I left Laurel for a while way back when we were around 30 years old.  I left her, I left Megan and Kelly, and I moved into a tiny one bedroom apartment all to myself.  Somehow, Laurel never gave up, as much as I gave up, she never did.  As much as she should have kicked me to the curb, divorced me and took me to the cleaners, she didn’t.  She believed in us, she believed in our marriage, and she held on strong until I eventually came to my senses. 

“Hold my heart, don’t let it bleed no more

Sometimes forgiveness is like a man at war”

While I wish I could say that somehow we have a beautiful story to tell about helping out the homeless, and me befriending someone like Denver, that is not a part of the story unfortunately.  What hit me when I was reading the book was when it got to the part about Deborah getting cancer.  You see, all of my life, I’ve lived in fear, I’ve feared that just like Laurel’s two sisters, Kathy and Karen, Laurel would someday fall to cancer, and I would lose her much too soon.  I’ve always lived with the thought that I was willing to give her up, and when I realized how crazy, how stupid I was, God would come in and take her away from me.  Each time she would go for a physical or exam, and she would say that they saw something and wanted to do further tests, panic would ensue, and I’d ask her if she could get an appointment sooner, I couldn’t stand the worry.  As Laurel would point out to me, “Worrying isn’t going to do any good”, I’d say, “OK, you’re right, but that still doesn’t help.”

"Your love has called my name

What do I have to fear?

What do I have to fear?"

  

So as I sat there reading that Saturday afternoon, I burst into tears, and I cried.  And I cried.  And I cried.  I felt badly for our two dogs, Little Bit and Daisy, because they had no idea what was going on.  They kept trying to comfort me, but it was no use, I was seeing my life flash before me, and I probably cried more than I’ve cried since my Dad died in 2013.  I couldn’t let go of my past failures, the pain I inflicted on Laurel, how I treated her, what I put her through.  I’ve never been able to forgive myself for that.  I couldn’t let go of my “perceived” future when I was going to lose Laurel, just like Ron lost Deborah.  I was caught between the inability to forgive myself for my past and fearing my future.  Wow, where the Hell do you go from here?

“And as You speak
A hundred billion failures disappear”

While there have been times in my life that I would have simply accepted this is just who I am, and would have quoted one of my favorite cartoon characters, Popeye, and said “I yam what I yam, and that’s all I yam”, this year has given me a new sense of optimism that I can be so much more. 

I look back to the challenge that our Pastor, Chris Henry, gave us for Lent on “A Clearing Season” and the journey I went on.  I explored myself, I explored my religion and faith, I sunk to the depths of Hell, driving myself into a state of depression, but I pulled myself out and garnered so many great insights and new visions of my life and the lives around me.  I grew and changed during that Lenten Journey, and I am so thankful for that.

“If you gladly chose surrender so will I”

I have continued to explore my worship through my running, as bad as it has been lately, but it hasn’t changed my focus on listening to contemporary Christian music, and finding so many nuggets of inspiration to live my day by.  I’ve interspersed some of the lines throughout this post, some of the ones that give me the greatest inspiration.  And it’s not just on the run that I get and keep that inspiration, throughout the day, I hear these lines running through my mind, and it helps me stay in focus. 

I started yoga this year, and it has been an incredibly uplifting and sobering activity for me.  I’m learning so much about myself and so much about what I can do, and what I can’t do.  While I’m still such a novice, I’ve only been doing it for five months or so, I look forward to it each time, and grow a little more each time.  Don’t get me wrong, there are times that I think I’m progressing, and times I think I’m regressing, at least in my stretching or balance, but I’m always growing in my focus, and my desire to keep coming back to see how I can improve.  As I’ve noted, I will probably never be very good at this, but it has been one of the best activities I’ve ever taken up in my life.  I’m surrounded by so many inspirational people, both teachers and students, that just make me feel good each time I go there.  Why in the world would I not want to do this?

"If You can calm the raging sea

You can calm the storm in me"

  

Finally, the entire church year has been amazing for me.  Through the Lenten Journey, through our Adult Education class, through the services, the music, the sermons, I’ve been inspired, and I’ve grown.  I’ve been lucky, I’ve been blessed through the years to hear some great sermons from great ministers, but the sermons I’ve heard at Shallowford this year from Chris Henry, Catherine Foster, and Bradley Kibler have been outstanding, particularly during Lent.  I have to go back to one (seriously, how do I choose just one?) where Chris Henry said, “But making space for renewal of the soul is not like adding another item to the to-do list.  Caring for the soul is a gift we give ourselves, not an obligation we begrudgingly meet… It involves setting priorities and holding ourselves accountable and sometimes, it means stretching ourselves beyond the comfortable.”  But with all of the great sermons like this, the eloquent weaving of stories together, taking Biblical passages and bringing them into focus in our everyday lives, Chris hit me with the Christmas sermon, with a simple story of Linus from “A Charlie Brown Christmas” and the words the angel spoke, and I needed to hear – 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.

One last thing and then I’m done.  Let me tell you a story about my hamstrings.  Stay with me here, there’s a point to this.  As I related in my last post, “Old Dog, New Tricks”, yoga is really, really hard for me.  For many reasons, but the worst is my hamstrings.  I’ve spent 57 years not stretching them, and while I could wallow in the fact that I’ve never stretched myself beyond the comfortable, and letting that define me, I’m giving it my best to do something about it.  The one yoga class, Brooke said, “You need to stretch your hamstrings at least 90 seconds at a time just to maintain your flexibility.”  I actually started laughing.  I thought to myself, I have to do this for 90 seconds just to maintain zero flexibility?  Then the one time, Megan was working on my hamstrings, and she said, “Your hamstrings are really confused.”  Well of course they are, they’ve gone 57 years without any stretching, they are rebelling and saying, what in the world are you trying to do to us?  As I was in a stretch the other night, my hamstrings began yelling at me once again, my legs started shaking uncontrollably, as my hamstrings went on strike and wouldn’t take anymore punishment.  I just started laughing.  As I looked up, Dani smiled and said, “It’s OK, you’re good.”  No I’m not, but with the help of some great teachers I will be, or I’ll be content with where I can be.  Believe me, I’m not quitting, and next time, I’ll go back at it again, and see what my hamstrings are willing to do.  But I can’t change the past, I can only control the present, and I’m not going to worry what the future brings.  If someday, I work myself up to say, 2-3% flexibility in my hamstrings, that’s great, but I’m just going to keep on doing the best I can and not worry about the future.

So am I saying that just like with my hamstrings, I’m not going to wallow in my past failures, not going to worry about the future and just live in the present?  Sadly, no, I’m not there yet.  But I’m getting better.  While I’m not one to ever give myself much credit for anything, I’ve grown this year.  I’ve actually gotten better.  As I always say, I’m a work in progress.  I am committed to be a better me in the present, and I hope that leads to a better me in the future. 

“Thy Will Be Done”

“And what does the Lord require of you?  But to do justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God”

“But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord”

“I Can Do Hard Things”

“Fear Not”

While it’s impossible to distill down a year of learning, growing and inspiration into a few simple phrases, these are some of the ones that have captured me this year.  As I close out the year, this blog post, my blog posts for the year, I wish you the best, and I promise to do my best to give you my best in 2018 and beyond.

Old Dog, New Tricks

“Some of you are approaching this time like a lion, ready to attack this yoga session.  Some of you are approaching this like a unicorn, ready to escape out the door.”

I recently quit teaching part-time at Georgia Gwinnett College after seven years, partly due to my travel schedule and partly due to the fact that I wanted to spend more time with my wife Laurel.  It isn’t ever like I’m bored in life or don’t have enough to do, but I tend to always like to be busy and active.  So while there wasn’t necessarily a “gap” in my schedule after retiring from teaching, mentally, I still had a bit of a gap to fill.  And, as noted, I wanted to find a way to spend more time with Laurel.

In July, I went to a meeting at our headquarters in Germany, and as a part of it, I participated in the WIKA team marathon, which they hold annually.  You only have to run about six kilometers, which isn’t a huge challenge, or shouldn’t be.  To say I sucked would be an understatement, it was one of my worst running performances, and experiences, I can ever remember.  While I could make a number of excuses, the reality that I knew was that I had become too “running centric” and had quit doing anything to stay fit other than running.  That just doesn’t work, you need to do more than just run to be an effective runner.

When I came home, I told Laurel, “I need to start going to yoga with you”, which made Laurel ecstatic, she’s been trying to get me to go to yoga with her for years.  Now this was huge because I have done my best to avoid any type of stretching throughout my life, and have made it basically 57 years with virtually no stretching.  Why, might you ask?  Because it hurts, plain and simple.  I am extremely tight, my hamstrings are awful.  So, when Laurel said to me, “You may not realize this, but yoga is hard”.  Uh, no shit, I had no preconception that yoga was going to be easy for me.  On the contrary, I was scared to death of how hard this was going to be. 

It reminded me of something that my good friend and mentor Dave Carr taught me once.  When he was teaching a course, he talked about three “zones”.  One is the Comfort Zone, where things are familiar and we are comfortable.  Then there is the Learning Zone, where beliefs, ideas and perspectives are challenged, and we grow.  And then, there is the “Panic Zone”, where our eyes get big, our heart rate goes up, our breathing gets faster and our palms get moist.

“Take time to set your intentions, what do you want to get out of this time here?”

When I began going to yoga, a short four months ago, yes, I was scared to death, I was in the Panic Zone.  As many times as Laurel would remind me that it was going to be hard, or I probably didn’t realize how hard this was going to be, no, the truth of the matter was, I knew how hard and painful this was going to be for me.  I know my body, I know how tight I am, how awful my hamstrings are.  But oh, I found out so much more.  I found out how weak my hips were.  I found out how tight my shoulders were.  Each week, early on, I learned new things about my body, and it wasn’t good.  I remember remarking to Megan Kearney, the owner of Ebb & Flow and leader of many yoga sessions, that I’m learning new things that my body can’t do each time, and her response back was, “Yeah, but isn’t it amazing what your body can do?” 

And that is why I have fallen in love with yoga.  Each session I attend, I am the unicorn, I am in the Panic Zone.  I often remark to Laurel, “I really don’t think you realize how hard this is for me.  I know it is for a lot of people, but it’s really hard for me.  I’ve not stretched in 57 years, it really hurts.”  But each time, I give it everything I have, I’ve figured out what I just flat out can’t do, but I’m gradually learning to be OK with that, and becoming content with what I can do.

“If you only spend five minutes today intentionally, you are doing yoga.”

It goes far beyond the physical part though.  So much of yoga is about spirituality, focus and breathing.  OK, breathing should be easy, but I’m constantly forgetting that I need to breathe when I’m doing yoga.  I wish I could say I’m getting better at remembering to breathe, but this will take some time.  Focus is another area that is and will be a struggle for me.  I am Type A, no doubt, and my mind is constantly wandering to all of the things I need to get done.  But, I am seeing some glimmers of hope.  I’ve been able to concentrate on what the teacher is saying more and more, and sometimes, I am able to focus, and really concentrate on being intentional.

Which brings me to the spirituality, and more particularly, the teachers I’ve had.  Since I’ve only been doing yoga for four months, I’ve only had the opportunity to experience four teachers, Megan, Brooke, Dani and Felicia.  Again, I’m such a novice to yoga, but they are just incredible.  They are wonderfully unique and amazing in their own way.  Each brings different gifts, different teaching methods, different music, and I’m just mesmerized at how they encourage and inspire me to be my best, and also to be OK with myself when I can only be my best.  There are so many times that they’ll say something in class, and unfortunately, my Type A personality will have me lying there thinking, “wait, what did she just say?  I need to write that down.”  Unfortunately I can’t, so I have to commit the concept to my brain, not the actual comment. 

“You can do hard things”

I have come to realize, and accept, I will never be good at this.  You can’t overcome 57 years of never stretching, and 57 years (or close to it) of being a Type A.  I have gotten better, I have grown, I have improved, but I’m pretty confident and comfortable with the fact that I will never be very good at yoga.  But that doesn’t change the fact that I am loving every minute of it.  Don’t get me wrong, every class, I’m a unicorn, I’m ready to bolt out the door.  I’m scared to death, but I stick it out, and I do the best I can do.  And I’m not ashamed to say that at the end of every class, I get teary-eyed because I’m proud of myself for doing something that I never believed I could ever do.  I firmly believe, they are changing my life.  Physically, spiritually, I’m becoming a different, and better, person. I am so thankful for what they are doing for me.

I can do hard things. 

Stay tuned for “Old Dog, New Tricks, Part 2”.  If I can accomplish this, I can accomplish so much more.  I am still a work in progress.

Marriage Vow Renewal

Editor's Note:  Laurel and I renewed our vows five years ago on our 30th anniversary.  I wrote the following for that ceremony, and I have to say, I feel even more in love today than I was five years ago.  As you can see, I had our children read our story, partly because I knew I couldn't, but largely because they are such an integral part of our lives.  And yes, I'm the luckiest man alive.

The Nature of Love

Megan: Our father has asked us to expand on the nature of love.  Our role is two-fold.  He knew that it wouldn’t be possible to do this himself without crying like a little baby.  And so much of the nature of love for our parents relates to their children, so it’s appropriate for us to be a vital part of this service.

Kelly: Our father chose 1^st Corinthians, 13: 4-8.  Thirty years is a long time, and there are many memories, many life moments that shape a marriage, shape our lives together.  Our father chose four moments, four snapshots that highlight the love that our mother has shown to all, and the reason why, our father loves her so much.

Megan: Love is patient.  While there have been many ways that Laurel has shown great patience with all of us, such as the purchase order policy, “goodbye I love you goodnight”, “I cut off the sweaty parts”, it seemed appropriate to at least start with some humor and focus on her favorite of all of her children, Snickers.  When the boys, particularly Sean, fought so hard to get a puppy, we had no idea what we were getting into.  Snickers was the worst baby anyone could imagine.  While experts would tell you, dogs will never go the bathroom in their crate, we found out the very first night, Snickers hadn’t read the manual.  He stayed up most nights for his first three months or so, he hated his crate, he teethed on our furniture and ruined it, he would pick, pick, pick at the berber carpeting until he could get a good strand and pull it across the room, so we eventually had duct tape throughout our family room.  While Sean and Patrick and I all promised to take care of Snickers, the

one who got to stay up all night with Snickers, was of course, Laurel.  There were many times, she said, it’s either me or the dog, but she knew how much the boys, and I, loved Snickers, so she persevered.

When I finally knew that Snickers had won her heart was one night when we were sitting in the family room watching TV.  Snickers was out back, in the dark, and all of a sudden, you could hear him barking.  For some reason, Laurel thought that Snickers was in trouble, and she leaped off the couch, running out the back door in her bare feet, screaming, “Snickers, Snickers”.  He had won her over, and had become her favorite.  Patience is a virtue, and Laurel definitely possesses this virtue.

Kelly:  Love is kind.  There are many examples, but one has always stuck with me, and it is from early in our marriage.  We were at church at Westminster, sitting on the center aisle of course.  The ushers were taking the offering, and there was a homeless man who had come into the sanctuary and he was sitting a few aisles ahead of us.  The usher tried to be kind and gracefully move past the man, but all of a   sudden, the homeless man tugged at the sleeve of the usher’s jacket.  He had a handful of change that he wanted to put into the offering plate, and he got the usher’s attention to put his change in the plate.  Laurel instantly burst into tears.  I feigned ignorance and asked her what was wrong, but she just shook her head and didn’t say anything.  After the service was over, Laurel was still crying, and I asked her what was wrong.  She said, “Did you see that homeless man?  He didn’t even have shoelaces in his shoes, but he still took the change from his pocket to put in the offering.   If he can do that, how can the rest of us be so selfish?“  I saw the love, the compassion, the kindness that she has for others that day, and I’ve seen it countless times over, whether it is Tawanna, B2B, or whatever small or significant random act of kindness she does along the way. 

Sean: Love bears all things.  When it comes to child bearing, if there is a normal, Laurel didn’t get to experience it.  The most normal child birth along the way was the first, Megan, and she was a month late, at least based on her due date.  Megan came into the world screaming, and she did a lot of that for the first several months.  We used to joke that Megan was a patriotic baby because she always stayed up until the TV programming shut off and they played the Star Spangled Banner at one or two in the morning (yes, back in the olden days of TV).  With Kelly, Laurel ended up on bed rest for the last month or so, and had to endure lying in bed, holding back the contractions.  With the boys, it became much worse.  Laurel had to endure about four months of bed rest, only allowed to leave bed to take a shower each day.  She had to lie there all day, watching TV, doing crossword puzzles, whatever she could do to pass the time, holding off the contractions, so that the boys could grow enough to be born safely.  I constantly wondered, how can she do it?  How does she not bend, how does she not cheat, how does she endure this?  I asked her one day, and very simply, she told me, “I just tell myself each day, if I don’t do this, they won’t survive.  That’s what keeps me going each day”.  I don’t believe I would have been strong enough to ever suffer through this, but Laurel’s love for the boys allowed her to endure those four months.  Her love for her children drove her to bear all things.

Patrick: Love endures all things.  I wish I didn’t have to do this one, but to completely cover the extent of Laurel’s love, this painful part of the journey has to be addressed.  At one point in our marriage, I reached the conclusion that our marriage 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.  I spent a lot of time alone, soul searching, wondering where my life was headed.  I still remember the one morning, getting up in the morning, looking in the mirror, and really not recognizing the person looking back at me.  I was completely lost.

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 the girls’ lives would have been like and of course, the boys would have never been born.  Her love and commitment changed our lives completely.

Megan:  My commitment since then has been to try to make every day of her life a better day than the day before.  I realize that I fail at this most days, but that’s my commitment.  She gave me life when I didn’t deserve it, she gave me love when I didn’t deserve it, and my goal, my purpose is to show her the love she deserves for the rest of our lives. 

Too many times, we believe that love is a storybook romance like you read in books, like you see in movies.  True love is loving each other through all the difficulties, loving each other when it isn’t easy to love each other, loving each other through the bad times, as well as the good times.  In my mind, I have had a storybook romance, and I thank God for letting me be a player in this story.  Lou Gehrig once famously said, “I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth.”  Lou Gehrig was wrong, he wasn’t the luckiest man on the face of the earth, I am.  Thanks be to God.

Advent Devotional

Letting Go

I began writing my blog about nine years ago.  I had always loved writing as a creative avenue (my

dream was to be a journalist and write novels), and due to the fact that my career is in business as a Chief Financial Officer, I needed some way of expressing myself.  I titled my blog, “Stuffed With Fluff – Oh Bother!”, partly due to my love of Winnie the Pooh and the fact that in many cases, my head is stuffed with fluff.  I write about life, my family, friends, students, pets, church, and in many ways, how God speaks to me through all of those avenues.  And I wait to see where God is going to take me.     

I’m not exactly sure how most people write, but my blog posts often take many months to “percolate”.  The process is very similar in each case, the difference is typically in the timing.  It all begins with an idea, something strikes me, something interests me.  And that idea sits there for a while.  And like we do in the Advent season, I wait.  Sometimes, I wait, and the idea never gets beyond that point, it dies a slow, but quiet, death.

If the stars were made to worship so will I

In most cases though, the idea progresses, and the way it progresses is through my morning runs.  As I run, I listen to contemporary Christian music, and I talk to God.  As I listen to God, I write my blog in my head.  So I wait for it to formulate, because I know it will be something eventually.  Sometimes God must talk very slowly, or I must listen very slowly, because it takes months for me to write it in my head.  

If the wind goes where You send it so will I

In these nine years, I have not had a goal or a set amount I want to write or themes I want to write about.  It all depends on what strikes me, what interests me, and then I wait for God to help me foster that idea into a creation.

If the oceans roar Your greatness so will I

What really strikes me about this waiting is that in my everyday life, I very much want or need to control everything.  While spiritually I realize that the only one in control is God, I can’t seem to let go of my desire to be in control.  My blog is the one thing over which I give up all control to God.  How it’s written, what is written, the timing of it, all depends on how God speaks to me, and yes, how well I listen.  It is the one thing in my life that I patiently wait for God to deliver on His terms and timing.  Maybe that is why it is so precious to me.

If the rocks cry out in silence so will I

As I approach Advent this year, what am I waiting for?  What are you waiting for?  What will come out of this waiting?

Anniversary Video

Laurel's Birthday

Playing Church

“You must resist with all your might the temptation to play ‘church’ while the world bleeds”

Recently our pastor Chris Henry used this quote from Dr. Peter Storey, a former United Methodist Bishop in South Africa, for a sermon discussing the need to connect Sunday, and our faith, to the real world.

I think we all experience our “bleeding moments” each and every day, but let me share a few with you, on one of my favorite (or least favorite) topics, homelessness.

 A few weeks ago, I flew back from a business trip to Dallas.  Our daughter Megan and son-in-law Thomas (along with their dog and cat) had just left after a week with us escaping the hurricane in Florida, I wanted to “treat” Laurel, so I stopped at Publix on the way home, bought a steak, bought some wine, bought some ice cream and some flowers.  As I walked out of the store, full of excitement to surprise Laurel, there was a Hispanic couple with two children with a sign that said, “Homeless with two children, please help”.  As I stood there with all of my expensive goodies, I couldn’t help but feel guilty, and I reached into my pocket and gave them the five dollars I had.  Really, not a lot considering everything, but it’s what I had at the moment.

A few days later, Laurel and I were in a different Publix, just picking up some dinner, and we were approached by a women in the store, asking for help.  She said she was a victim of abuse, she had just moved to an apartment with her children, and she just needed help buying some groceries and toiletries.  She apparently had been approaching various people in the store.  I told her I’d have to think about it, and I decided not to help in this case.  I have to tell you, that decision gnawed at me for several days.  I didn’t know what to do, and I chose to do nothing, and in this case, I just don’t believe it was the right decision.  But what to do?  It reminds me of one of my favorite sermons from Dr. Tom Long, “Be Kind, Be Kind, Be Kind”.  Dr. Long paints a picture of himself giving his spare change to a homeless man and feeling good about his generosity.  The feeling begins to wear away as he sees the line forming with many hands held out for an offering. 

Unfortunately, that line continues to grow longer.  The gap is widening, and there are more and more people suffering from homelessness and the inability to make it on a daily basis.  As I painfully surveyed my response to these two snapshots of life, I decided to reach out to a cross-section of friends and colleagues to see how they respond in these situations.  The response was overwhelming, and gave me some fresh perspective, and some validation, for what I believe on the proper response to this topic. 

In most cases, people believe that the vast majority of those asking for handouts are “scammers”.  They have a set story, and they make a living preying on those of us who fall for a good, sad story.  The consensus was, don’t give money.  With the drug epidemic and alcohol problem in this country, giving money will most likely go to some form of addiction.  If you feel the need to give anything, give food, take them in and buy food for them, or whatever the issue is, buy it for them rather than giving cash.  The general feeling was that if the person is truly in need, they will be happy with whatever you are able to provide, but a scammer will only want money.

I had a few, and to be honest, mostly clergy, who really focused on the bigger picture.  By giving out money or food to individuals on the streets, you aren’t doing a thing to help or solve this dilemma.  In fact, it may exacerbate the problem for that person.  If that person can continue to get by through hand-outs and help from some of us who try to care, they may not seek the ultimate help they need to end the cycle they are in.  As one person put it:

“All we can do is ultimately follow the Holy Spirit and within each situation ask the questions:

1.    How do I honor the dignity of this person?

2.    Am I willing to walk the messy road of a long-term relationship with them?

3.    What is God trying to do in them and me through the pain of this situation?”

Finally, probably my favorite response broke us down into three categories when dealing with homeless people:

• Biblical Literalists - There are those of us who follow the teachings of Jesus, and we give freely without question.
• Sitting at the Right Hand of Judgment - There are those of us who assess whether the person truly needs what they are asking for and if the story is real.
• Tough Realists - There are those of us who believe the only way to deal with this situation is through giving to institutions rather than individuals.

 As I survey the many, and varied, responses I received, the wonderful thread woven throughout is that people care.  Each person had a slightly different response, but it was obvious, it is on our minds.  We don’t take this situation lightly, and we don’t have any easy answers.  I was really overwhelmed by how thoughtfully each person responded to this difficult situation.

Where do I fall in all of this?  For the most part, I’m a Tough Realist.  But let me take this categorization a step further, at least in my mind.  Unless you are truly a Biblical Literalist, and truly want to follow and honor Jesus, I think this is the easy way out.  When I give to someone on the street or at the grocery store, I do it because of the immense guilt I feel inside.  It helps to at least take some of that guilt away, so it’s more about making myself feel good.  I believe we need to feel the pain these people are feeling.  I believe we need to look them in the eye, tell them I am sorry that I can’t help you, but I’ll be thinking about you and praying for you.  We need to listen to what they have to say.  We need to etch their faces into our brains.  We need to hurt, we need to hurt that small percentage that they hurt.  Until we see these people, look at these people, feel their pain, it’s just too easy for us, and we’ll continue to do nothing, because we satisfy that need we have by giving them a sandwich, a dollar, a quick “I’m praying for you” before we can get the hell away from them and onto our lives.

The other night, we were visiting Patrick up in Providence, Rhode Island, and we went out to dinner.  As we were walking along the Providence River, Patrick saw a homeless man sitting under an overpass.  As we were leaving, Patrick asked if he could go back to see what he could do for the man.  Laurel and I stayed, and watched from a distance the interaction between Patrick and the homeless man.  At one point, they were both laughing hysterically.  I saw Patrick reach into his pocket, take out some money to give to him, and he gave the man the leftover food we had from our meal. 

Once we got back to the car, we asked Patrick about the laughing.  He said, “I asked him if there was anything I could give him.  He started laughing and said ‘$4,000!’.  He then asked if I could spare a dollar.  I gave him $2.”

After this encounter, Patrick was clearly agitated.  We got back to his apartment, and he didn’t say anything for the longest time.  Then he went on a rant about our society, our government, our lack of caring for those amongst of us that are the least, the fact that we aren’t willing to deal with those less fortunate than us.

I thought back to when Patrick was in high school.  He played Don Quixote in the musical, “Man of La Mancha”.  And I thought, Patrick is still chasing and fighting his windmills.  Patrick sees and feels the pain every time he sees someone sitting underneath an overpass.  To be honest, I’m really glad he does.  I firmly believe, Patrick will be a Biblical Literalist, and I’m fine with that.  I’m not sure if Patrick made any lasting impression on that homeless man, but he did make a lasting impression on me.  While there are many times in my life I worry that I’m “playing church while the world bleeds”, I have very little worries that Patrick is doing the same. 

So what about you?  What category do you fall into?  Biblical Literalist?  Sitting at the Right Hand of Judgment?  Tough Realist?  Or something completely different?  It’s not going to get any easier, that’s for sure.

I'd Still Vote for a Pile of Snickers' Poop

As a backdrop for the title of my post, way back when the Republicans had 15 or so Presidential candidates, I indicated that if the current president somehow emerged as the Republican nominee, I would not only vote for Hillary Clinton, I would vote for Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi, Mister Ed, Howdy Doody, or even a pile of Snickers’ poop from the backyard before I’d vote for the current president.  Sadly, since then, we had to put Snickers down, and even more sadly since then, America elected the current president.

Being a life-long Republican, some of my fellow Republicans had similar issues with the current president, so they could understand, while others, they couldn’t understand then and they still don’t understand, how could I betray the party?  How could I say I’d vote for the much-hated Hillary Clinton over anybody?  Hard to believe I’m saying it, but I did vote for Mrs. Clinton.  For the first time in my life, after 36 years of voting, I voted for a Democrat for President. 

I got it, and I still get it.  I have always disliked Mrs. Clinton, even more than her husband Bill, ever since they emerged on the political scene way back in the early 90’s.  I believe she is dishonest, unlikable, and I still believe she was complicit in the Whitewater scandal.  Still, I found her to be a much better candidate for president than the current president.  She was smart, she understood politics, and she had a plan.

What I find interesting or amusing is that some of my dear Republican friends are upset or offended that I won’t support or accept the current president as my president.  I must admit that the only other time I have taken this approach was when Bill Clinton was president, again, I truly believed he was involved in the Whitewater scandal, and I didn’t trust his integrity or ethics.  In the case of the current president, I find him too offensive, too unqualified, and too divisive to accept or support.

My question for those of my friends who are upset or offended are:

Should I support him simply because he occupies the office of President of the United States?  Do you mean the way you supported President Obama over the last eight years? 

Should I support him because nothing will happen in this country over the next four years, or God forbid, eight years, if we don’t support him?  Do you mean the way you tried to help President Obama with his agenda over the last eight years?

Should I support him because he’s a Republican, and he can push the Republican agenda?  Do you mean that the Republican agenda is more important than the American agenda? 

Should I support him because that is the patriotic thing to do? Again, I’d go back to the way you supported President Obama over the last eight years, were you patriotic if that is the case?

To be honest, I don’t get it.  I would be happy to understand why it’s so important for me to embrace this president.  Guys, I’ve been there.  I’ve sat around bashing the Democrats, laughing at their ridiculous agendas, amazed that the two best candidates they could come up with were Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders, ridiculing them for fixing their own primary, hoping that Nancy Pelosi is forever in charge.    I bashed Bill Clinton to death, I had an irrational hatred (I really don’t like that word, but really, it’s the best way I can describe how I felt) for Mr. Clinton.  I’ve heard the way you talked about Barack Obama.  Help me understand!

It’s funny, I just saw a survey of Republicans that essentially said it’s unpatriotic to criticize the current president to foreigners, but a similar poll four years ago of Republicans said it was unpatriotic not to criticize President Obama to foreigners.  Have we grown this divided, have we gotten to the point where logic and rational thinking don’t matter, it purely comes down to which side of the political aisle you are on, and by God, you better never cross the aisle?

If you’ll remember several months ago, many Republicans lauded Ted Cruz when he flip-flopped on his vow to never support the current president.  If you’ll also remember, the current president had some very harsh words for Ted Cruz’ wife and his late father.  I’m sorry, if you criticize my wife or my late father, I don’t care how big you are, or how big of an ass-kicking I may get, we’re going to take it outside to settle the issue.  After that, our relationship is ended, my wife and my father’s legacy are too vital to me.  I was never a fan of Ted Cruz, but for him, or any of the others who have flip-flopped, I hold you in very low respect.  If you have values or integrity, you hold to that no matter what.  Thankfully at least a few Republicans, like John McCain and John Kasich, do have some morals and integrity left, most have checked them at the door.

As I noted earlier, I find so many issues with the current president, but the biggest issue I have when I view him is he is not a leader.  Now, I could find various books about leadership, and recite for you the traits of a leader, but as I think back over my 35+ year career, I’ve worked for some great leaders.  I’ll mention just a few from the past (it wouldn’t be fair to mention anyone from the present) for those of you who remember, but think back to Ray Stickel, Tom Mann,  or Kent Spille from Touche Ross or Jim Crane or Al Herman from Barco.  If I think about those individuals, what comes to mind are:

•          Integrity
•          Honesty
•          Intelligence
•          Character
•          Compassion
•          Work Ethic

Besides that, what I remember most about these individuals was they gave credit to their people when things went well, and they absorbed the blame when things didn’t go so well.  They stood up for their beliefs, they stood up for their people, and they gave us a vision when things were going well and when they weren’t going well.  They could communicate clearly and intelligently, some weren’t always eloquent speakers, but they still could string together intelligent thoughts in front of an audience.

Sadly, I find none of these leadership qualities in the current president. 

Finally, what I find the most troubling is the flock of “religious right” who have backed the current president.  Christian “leaders” such as Franklin Graham and Jerry Falwell, Jr. have come to his support and defended the various transgressions he’s committed.  I would never question whether a person was a Christian or not, that’s not my place.  But please don’t tell me that the current president is acting in the name of Christianity.  There is nothing Christian about what he says or does.  If you are swayed solely by the abortion issue, I would ask you if you also believe in taking care of those children once they are born, and also if you are willing to accept refugees from other countries to allow them to live.  I’m just thankful that most true religious leaders have not sold out like Mr. Graham and Mr. Falwell.

Is everything lost, am I just preaching gloom and doom for our country?  No, not really, but I do believe that indirectly the current president will “make America great again”.  I believe that we will continue to decline.  While our history, economy and military might still provide a great deal of influence in the free world, other countries, with much stronger and better leaders, will continue to grow and emerge.  We will continue to decline under his leadership, or lack thereof.  He has absolutely no clue what he is doing, he is too lazy and not bright enough to try to figure out how to be president, and he has appointed a cast of stooges to help run our country.  While I believe James Mattis, H.R. McMaster and Rex Tillerson have been reasonably good choices for the administration, we have a whole slew of sorely unqualified people like Betsy Devos, Jeff Sessions, Rick Perry and Ben Carson, along with the family and friends – Jared Kushner, Ivanka Trump and Steve Bannon, trying to run this country.  We have a dearth of leadership in this country currently, starting at the top, and it seems, no one is willing or able to step up.

Once we have declined enough, and we realize we are not great, or even good anymore, we will realize we have to rebuild.  We will realize that even though we have two parties, or maybe more, we still have to come together and cooperate for the greater good of the country.  We will work together for a common good rather than what is simply good for “my side of the aisle”.  We will remember what made America great was our compassion for others, and our willingness to work for the greater good rather than our own personal benefits. 

Not sure if any of my dear Republican friends are there yet, so I’ll at least try to invoke the name of one of our greatest, Ronald Reagan.  As the stories go, and they may just be stories, but when the Republicans and Democrats couldn’t agree, and they violently disagreed in the public, President Reagan would quietly meet with Tip O’Neil, a Democrat, and Speaker of the House of Representatives.  Over some drinks at the White House, they would discuss what needed to be done for the good of the country, not for the good of each party.  They would quietly agree to something that would be in the best interest of our country.  No idea if this is all fact or fiction, but it seemed to work so much better than the insanity that we face now.

I’m sorry guys.  I vow to vote straight party Democrat until your president is out of office to do everything possible to block his agenda.  I cannot and I will not support this president.

 Not my president.  Never my president.

We Need to Pray More?

I’ve often held the belief that a great deal of problems in life can be solved with math.  Simple math.  Whether it’s at work, when I’m teaching, in various walks of life, if you “do the math” you can determine if whatever you are trying to achieve is feasible or not. 

Let’s take a couple quick and simple examples.  We’ll be talking at work about our sales goals, and someone will say, “I think we can reach X in sales this year”.  Really?  If you do the math, and you see where we are at the moment, and where you believe we can be, it just doesn’t work.  You just can’t get there from here.

I’ll have students who will say, “I really need to get a B in this class, what do I need to get on the final for a B?”  If you take what you’ve achieved so far on the tests, homework, quizzes, you are at X%.  To get a B in the class, you need a 130 on the final, and since there are only 100 possible points, that ship has sailed.  You can’t get there from here.  I do explain it much nicer than this.

A few years ago, I agreed to serve on the Board of Trustees for United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio.  It’s a long story, but I was asked to serve because of my financial expertise.  I knew going in that UTS had some financial issues, but I never imagined how problematic they were at the time.  When I first started on the board, the financials were bad.  As time wore on over the first couple of years, the financials got worse. 

Throughout my career, I’ve endured and worked through various financial situations, and I’ve seen and experienced a great deal of financial difficulties.  I had never seen anything like this.  While I’m often calm, and I hope a voice of reason, I finally couldn’t take it anymore, and I gave one of my most memorable and impassioned speeches.  To paraphrase, I said, “I’ve never seen financial statements this bad in over 30 years in business.  As far as I can tell, we’re going to run out of cash.  I don’t know what to do if we run out of cash, does anyone else know?  We can’t keep going like this, we have to do something differently.”

What greeted me was not what I had anticipated.  As we discussed our financial crisis, as we tried to determine what to do, the overriding comments, recommendations or admonishments from people such as Bishop Gregory Palmer, Dr. Robert Scott and Dr. Charles Booth were along the lines of

“We just need to pray more”

“What I’ve not seen or heard enough of lately is prayer”

“We need to pray about this”

And so on.  You have to understand that these gentlemen are incredible orators, and they can take over a meeting, a room, any event with their eloquence and deep convictions.  While I’m always deeply impressed by anything that they have to say, they are incredible men of God, I was still perplexed on how prayer was going to dig us out of the deep hole we were in.  We need to pray more?  Seriously?

When President Kent Millard came on board at UTS, he had a similar mantra.  He evoked the need for prayer, for God to help us out of the situation we were in, and to provide a miracle.  As time went on, I became more discouraged as I really felt the math just didn’t work.  Prayer was great, but if you do the math, we can’t get there from here. 

It’s amazing how wrong I could be.

As the months went by, the money started pouring in.  Kent and Callie Picardo, our Vice President for Development, would both say, “We just hold out our arms, and God pours down the donations to us.”  Over the last year, UTS has gone through an unbelievable turnaround, I would have never imagined it was possible, but somehow it happened.  If you look at the numbers, if you do the math, it really wasn’t feasible to make this kind of turnaround.  The only plausible answer was that what we did need was more prayer and a miracle from God, and it happened.

Now, it wouldn’t be fair to stop right there.  While the overriding story to all of this was that prayer and God can overcome a lot, it also took a great deal of hard work and sacrifice.  What I learned over time is that Kent Millard has a saying, which I know I’ll butcher, but it goes something like, “Trust God as if it will all come from Him, but work as if it is all coming from you.”  The Administration, the Staff, the Faculty and even the Trustees made significant sacrifices and worked extremely hard to turn UTS around.  While Kent and Callie would say that God just pours down the money, a tremendous effort went into bringing in those donations.  And of course we can’t forget the dedicated donors that UTS has, they continue to go above and beyond to keep the seminary flourishing.  Again, if it weren’t for God, this doesn’t happen, but also if it weren’t for all of the hard work and sacrifices, it also wouldn’t have happened.

As I’ve contemplated this last year or so, I’ve come to a few conclusions.  They are:

God is even more powerful than math.  Yes, I’m joking, although I’m pretty sure God is more powerful than math.  Even when things look hopeless, even when the math won’t work, God may have other plans.

People actually believe in the power of prayer.  Before you judge me, I do believe in the power of prayer.  I do pray, I believe that God listens to prayers, I believe sometimes God answers prayers, and I believe sometimes the answer God gives is not the answer we hoped for or anticipated, but God is God, and He has a better idea of what we need than we do. 

Now, having said that, these people truly believe in the power of prayer.  I know I’m not making much of a distinction or really any distinction at all, but there is a fine line, or probably a football field between their faith and my faith.  It was a sobering moment for me, but a learning moment just the same.  I learned a lot about my faith, and their faith, and I learned that I sometimes have to defer my need for control and realize that ultimately the only one in control is God. 

As is usual, when you set out to help others, the one who benefits the most is you.  I’ve shared before my experience as a teacher at Georgia Gwinnett College.   I started teaching to give back to the community and try to help educate young accounting students.  What I found was that they taught me much more than I was able to teach them, and I gained much more than I gave. 

The same applies with UTS.  I came in to provide my financial expertise, and what I provided to UTS pales in comparison to what I received.  The people I’ve been blessed to be surrounded by at UTS have provided me so many valuable lessons on the love of God, the power of prayer, the strength of belief, and the confidence to rely on God rather than to rely on myself.  I’ve always been good at working like it all relies on me, but I have serious work to do on trusting that it will all come from God. 

While it’s painful, sometimes we need a reminder of where we are on our journey compared to where we want to be.  As I often say, I’m still a work in progress, and I will be until the day I die.  Thanks be to God for giving me the opportunity to keep on growing.

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