Life's Variables

My daughter Gena told me I might think of writing these posts with just a touch more brevity....so, in the spirit of good intentions, here goes:

Years ago, after experiencing and/or witnessing, in my life and the lives of others, many unusual twists and turns of health, life, death, fortune, poverty, and apparent spiritual benchmarks (both good and bad). I developed a brief, but, I think, all-inclusive description of the possibilities, or variables in all of our lives.

This is original with me, but if you are overwhelmed with the profundity of my observation, feel free to use it at will :).

It is either this...or that,
It is either you...or me,
It is either now...or later...
And eventually it is either heaven...or hell.

We can direct a lot of the things in our lives. We are given the ability to choose and apply reason and intellect to the use of our lives and our activities. We can, to some degree, control many aspects of our lives, through sound stewardship of what God has given us. We decide what we will eat and drink, what we will think about all day long. What we will do with our lives. We can choose our companions. We can direct our priorities. God has given us so much freedom to do as we wish. And yet--things happen to us!...we have health issues...we lose loved ones....we see innocent people, young and old, suffer. We gain and lose jobs...we gain and lose companions, children and friends.

So much of what happens to us seems inexplicable. Why? Why me? Why you?

I turn 65 next month, and I finally am at peace about these matters. It is now a simple thing for me to understand (You have to understand -- I'm not the brightest bulb on the porch. I think I have it figured out! Truly bright people say these things are beyond our understanding).

For me it is like this: We (Christians) are NOT to be people of 'empirical evidence'....with empirical evidence, blocks of truth are stacked, one on top of the other, until at the apex, one realizes the inescapable TRUTH. I don't think that's the way God wants us to be....I believe that we are a people who please God when we trust him...through good times and bad times. That trust is borne of our faith. We don't trust God just because a person gets a job, or because a sick person is healed...we trust God IN SPITE of the REALITIES of this world --- realizing that it is our complete trust in him that makes the angels sing!

Think of this: If good things only happened to Christians...they always got the pay raise or the good job; they always were healed of their maladies; they never got old and died; they never experienced the loss of a child or the heartbreak of divorce or abandonment -- if only Christians lived the good life, then where would be the need for faith? It is our faith that makes us pleasing to our God.

Since I came to understand this concept, I am more at peace with life...and the thought of death...or suffering, or other loss. I can take success...and I think I can accept hard times as well. We live in a world of what often appears to be 'random selection' --- good things and not-so-good things come to all of us. The only constant in all of life is the love of God for each of us.

I just wanted to share this today. As for my attempt at brevity, Gena, I'm sorry -- I'll try to do better next time!

Dad

Cheap dates -- great memories!

Back in the '60's, when I was a student at OCC (yes, I know, we don't call it that now...except that I still do), I didn't have a lot of money at times for dating. Sometimes I did, and sometimes I didn't. When I wanted to spend a wonderful afternoon with a special girl (or several of them!), nothing was any more special than a trek to the 'woods.' There used to be a wonderful place just south of the OCC campus -- east of Hardeman and west of Benson Rd., just to the south of Memorial Road. There were neat things hidden there in the woods --- an old abandoned home of some fellow named 'Schmidt' was a special attraction. It was REALLY abandoned, and was falling apart, but inside the home were thousands of books. They were stacked all over the floors in the different rooms. Some had been fashioned into beds by forest critters -- birds, raccoons, possums and the like. A number of windows had been knocked out and there were holes in a lot of the walls. Nevertheless, this was a special haunt of some of us who frequented the woods across the street from OCC.

There were other attractions around the home -- a huge mulberry tree attracted us like it attracted critters who also loved the berries. Eating those berries was an annual event that we really enjoyed. We would take a picnic lunch, a transistor radio and a blanket and make an afternoon of it. The old home had not been lived in for decades, and we found stacks of old tokens that had been used many years previously for the trolley that apparently ran from Edmond down into OKC.

There was one other surprise outside the old home -- daffodils! Hundreds of them --planted decades earlier and still blooming in the 1960's! That's where I decided that one day, if I ever had a home of my own, I would plant daffodils. I'm almost 65now, and I still buy 500 yellow daffodils and plant them (for myself and for others) every year.

The woods had another special attraction -- a rock waterfall! I would go there with girl friends -- lots of them -- (so many girls...so little time! :), and we would while away the afternoon carving our names in the large sandstone rocks that lined the creek bank.

I know that developers have destroyed that area now, but the memories remain vivid. So many memorable times with so many lovely girls! Most of these '60's friends are still friends -- after all these years. Although I am almost 65 now, and those days go back over 40 years-- in my mind, I am still that same carefree college kid, laughing and having a great time -- making unforgettable memories.

I treasure my years at OCC. My best 'life-friendships' were forged on and around the OCC campus. The guys and the girls who were close friends back in the '60's are still my best friends. New friends are great, but 40 to 45 year old friendships are hard to match, due to so many years of shared experiences. My goodness! -- life is wonderful!!

Eskimo Love

Last night Paula and I got to visit for a little while with some guests of our neighbors, Neil and Joni Arter. Their weekend guests were Ben and Jaime Bailey. We stood out in the cool night air in the cul-de-sac where we live and we had a nice visit. They were preparing to return to San Antonio this morning, and we visited about OC and people we all knew...and how the network of friends and acquaintances weaves like a huge web, with each new person we all mentioned leading us into further conversations about yet other people we all knew.

Come to find out, Ben is the son of James Bailey, a well-known minister in churches of Christ. Many, many years ago, (in what seems now to have been in a previous life), I had worked as the state representative for a company called Ministers Life. James and his wife, Marsha, were working with a church of Christ in Augusta, KS., and I had traveled there to visit with them about some life insurance coverage. When I left their home, I stopped in Wichita to spend the night at a Holiday Inn, and, as I was unloading my car for the night, an attractive woman pulled up behind my car, in her own late-model vehicle. She rolled down the window (later I thought she must have seen my out of state license plate and realized I was not from the local police department). She asked me for directions to some place in Wichita. I told her I couldn't help her ---since I was from out of town and didn't know Wichita. Then she engaged me in a conversation of a different sort...

Turns out she was a local prostitute, and, as I continued removing things from my trunk and taking them into my room for the night, she continued talking and the talk progressed into a rapid sales talk. She was trying to convince me to hire her for the evening. She told me I would 'sleep better tonight, and feel better tomorrow'. I told her I was not interested, adding that I was married and a Christian. She then went to on offer me 'Eskimo Love', but, I declined, and she drove on through the parking lot, looking for someone who might be interested in her offer. She never did explain what 'Eskimo Love' was....and I went to my room and spent the night by myself, happy to be returning to my sweet wife the next day.

Talking and laughing with the Bailey's over this event in my life that occurred when I went to Kansas to visit with Ben's parents many years ago led us off into talking about a number of other things...different towns where Ben and his parents had lived over the years. Wood Street church of Christ, for instance, where James and Marsha had worked with that congregation for a long time. I was the first person baptized in that little church, in 1954. I shared with Ben and Jaime about how one of our elders back then heard a sermon from a young man who was 'trying out' for a pulpit job there. The young man said something that may not have been totally correct (at least to that elders' point of view), and the elder, a brother Schiflett, (sort of a self-styled 'head elder'), stood up in the middle of the auditorium, right in the middle of the sermon and told the young man that he was wrong. Unnerved, the young man stammered and stuttered his way through the rest of his sermon and was interrupted and summarily 'dressed down' at least one more time for his 'errors'. I'd like to know if that young man remained in the ministry, or, having been publicly humiliated, he decided on a safer career. Anyway, we talked about a lot of things out in the street last night, and then said our goodbyes. I thought a lot about our visit with Ben and Jaime. I don't know Jaime's parents, but they must be as wonderful as James and Marsha had been and are to their kids....and they must be so very proud of how their kids have turned out. Such sweet people!

We had a really good visit, and felt like we had made a couple of new friends. Thanks, Neil and Joni, for sharing your house guests with us! Isn't it wonderful, when you can meet people you really have never had a conversation with, and through your connections in God's family, you quickly find commonality and a common appreciation of many of the same people you've met in your different walks in life? It's often impromptu, random times like these that I treasure. Paula and I feel that we know Ben and Jaime now, and they will never be strangers to us. It's wonderful, being a Christian. There are a lot of sweet moments here on earth. Can you even imagine how wonderful Heaven will be? Ben and Jaime, I hope that you two and your two sweet kids made it safely back to San Antonio today!

In 1956, I was 12, and enjoyed working in downtown Dallas with my Dad, who, at that time was a professional photographer. His office was on the 2nd floor of a building that housed the Melba Theater. It was located near Titche's Department Store. We could look out the windows and see all the traffic and people right out our window. I loved being near so much commotion. I also loved helping with the photographic process, helping Dad with his large porcelain pans of developer and fixative. I enjoyed working in the darkroom, and seeing images come to life in the red-light of the darkroom. I enjoyed making copies on dad's machine that was one of the forerunners of copy machines. I was just a kid, and of limited usefulness to Dad, but there were things that I could do to make his life a little easier. I often rode home from work in the evening on a city bus, and enjoyed all the sights and smells and all the people who rode the bus daily from downtown Dallas to Oak Cliff where we lived.

One day, I saw a huge black woman board the bus and, after dropping her change into the box by the bus driver, I saw her painfully make her way to the back of the bus, where black people were required to sit (or stand, if no seats were available at the back of the bus). I was sitting near the back of the bus, at the rear of the seating area where non-blacks were allowed to sit. The bus was full, and there were no available seats for this woman. I was only 12 years old, but I knew enough to know that blacks were treated differently than were whites...they could only drink from 'colored' drinking fountains in the department stores and other public buildings. They had to use restrooms that were for blacks only. They could not eat in restaurants frequented by whites. They had to go around to the back of restaurants and pay for and receive food via the back door, where all the trash cans and restaurant filth were to be found. I knew they were treated differently, and I had never known a black person in school or the neighborhoods where we lived. Yet, they seemed like anybody else to me.

I saw the woman, standing there, hanging on to the 'grab bars' overhead, and saw how miserable she was from pain. I then did what I had been taught all my life to do...I stood up and offered her my seat. She gratefully took my seat and I stood there in the aisle, holding on to the grab bar as the bus continued on toward Oak Cliff. A couple of white men cursed me for giving her my seat, and called me names that I won't repeat here. I would have been afraid, had I not been on a city bus.

The white bus driver noticed that I had given my seat to the black woman. He didn't say anything while he continued driving, but when I got near my destination, and walked to the front of the bus to exit at my bus stop, he quietly thanked me for my kindness. That made me feel good inside. I knew I had done the right thing, and now an older adult told me so.

Not long after this incident, while riding home on the bus another day, with the same bus driver driving us all home, I noticed another large black woman, at a bus stop in downtown Dallas, having trouble boarding, due to some physical problem. I was a little surprised, but happy, to see the bus driver put the bus in park, open the door and then leave the bus to help the old black woman board the bus.

The next day, I wrote a letter to the Dallas Transportation Authority, praising the kind bus driver. I knew his name, and I told them the route that he drove and described what he had done.

I received a response from his supervisor, who told me that this bus driver had been given a commendation and a raise, for what he had done.

I felt good about that, and realized that there are a lot of nice people in the world, who do the right thing when they have the opportunity. That made my heart sing! My heart still sings when I do something that I know is the right thing...even when it is often inconvenient or costly in some way. It delights me when I catch others doing 'the right thing'.

I've told stories before about my Mom, or my wife, or my kids ---doing the right thing. I'm grateful to Jesus, for His influence in our lives....for making us want to 'get out of ourselves' and do things for others. I believe that it's not so much our sitting in a pew at church that honors God, but rather, living for Him by doing for others....what we do, not just at a building on Sunday, but what we do and who we are 24/7/365. How about you?...what makes your heart sing?

The Unforgettable Raymond Kelcy

Raymond Kelcy was a wonderful man. He was the Chairman of the Bible Department at OC for many years. He was also the pulpit minister at the Wilshire Church of Christ in OKC where Paula and I were members. I loved too listen to Raymond, whether in one of his classes at OC when I was a student at OC, before most of you were born (Yes, I know I look very youthful, but I am, in fact, in my 60's :), in a Bible class at Wilshire, or in the auditorium at Wilshire. I learned a lot of wonderful things about the Scriptures and about God, from Raymond Kelcy. I also learned a lot about everyday life, again, from Raymond Kelcy. Dr. Kelcy -- Raymond -- was not puffed up and full of himself. He was down to earth -- normal -- practical -- and one of my heroes. Raymond had a great sense of humor. While he was not a big 'laugher', and did not walk around with a grin on his face, he had a dry wit, and always looked for the humor in life. Without cracking a smile on HIS face, he could convulse an audience with laughter with that slow, dry wit that was his trademark.

One of the things I liked about Raymond (and there were MANY), was his willingness to admit that he had been wrong or that he had, over time, changed his mind about his understanding of this or that. He was an humble man. No 'stuffed and puffed shirt' was Raymond Kelcy. He did not worry about people thinking less of him because of a shift in position about some thought or idea in Scripture. I admired Raymond for this, and for his intelligence and his humanity. Raymond let people know that he was not perfect, and he freely admitted his shortcomings. Raymond was an intellectual giant, and a man among men.

I videotaped Raymond, as he spoke at a going-away party for Kerry and Becky Holton, who had served for years at Wilshire. Kerry had become our pulpit minister at Wilshire, after Raymond had stepped down from that position but had continued his and Hester's fellowship with the Wilshire congregation. As it turns out, I have the only video of Raymond that exists -- anywhere! I have shared that video with OC, so that a ideo record of Raymond is not lost. I also gave a copy to Lynn McMillon and to Roger Kelcy (one of Raymond's sons) and Hester, Raymond's wife. In this video, Raymond told a humorous story that is THE funniest thing I have ever heard in my entire life. Raymond had a sense of timing only matched by the great Jack Benny or Bob Hope. I have watched it maybe twenty times, and each time, I hurt from laughing.

I think of Raymond often, and my life has been forever changed by having known him and from having listened to many hundreds of hours of sermons and classes at OC and at the Wilshire congregation. They say that one never dies, as long as one is remembered. If this is indeed true, then Raymond Kelcy will live forever in the hearts of men.

New China Restaurant, OKC, circa 1975

A long time ago, before most of you were born, I had hair, and wore leisure suits to work every day, selling insurance. I had an office in the little strip shopping center, just on the east side of OC, on Benson Road and Memorial. I officed with different people over the years...Bob Forrester and Bob Lashley, to name two. Bob was a home builder. I sold insurance, and for a brief stint, so did Lashley. Ah, those were the years. Men's ties were about a half-foot wide on the business end, and were often loud paisley things. Guys often wore (get this) WHITE belts with their leisure suits! Women's clothes were no better.

Bob Forrester and I got in the habit of going to a Chinese restaurant over in the Britton area every day for lunch. No exaggeration here. Seriously. EVERY workday for a year or more. We got acquainted with the wait-staff over time, and when we walked through the door, our little waitress motioned us to our 'usual' booth, along the west wall. Her name was Emily, but she pronounced it "Emory". She was a sweet young lady, and we tipped her well, so, unless she was off work, or ill, she was our waitress every day.

Over time, Bob and I settled in on our favorites from the limited menu. When "Emory" would seat us, we would tell her: "2 plus 2", and point to the two of us. Here's the breakdown on what "2 plus 2" meant, once deciphered: No.2 on the menu (beef chow mein), and 2 eggrolls-- each. We both got the same thing every time. The beef chow mein came with fried rice (Emily called it something that sounded much like "flied lice"...and Bob and I had to work through the mental picture THAT pronounciation brought to bear in our minds each day.

The perplexing thing about our ordering of such simple fare is that when we would look at "Emory" to place our order (to you Oklahomans, that is 'prace oul ol-del'). Emily would look at us, and wrinkle up her eyebrows at the "2 plus 2" and on the second part of that 2 plus 2 -- knowing that we were talking about the egg rolls -- she would ask: "2 pieces...or 2 ol-del?" (orders). We would tell her, very carefully---
"No, Emily, not 2 orders (4 eggrolls each), but ONE ORDER", to which she would reply:
"One piece?"....and on and on it would go, until the manager would intervene and tell Emily that we each wanted 2 eggrolls, not 2 orders each!

What is unbelievable is that this went on day after day, month after month, with no end. It was incredible!

In spite of her difficulty in understanding us, we tipped her well and she put up with our teasing and snickering. Bob and I have often wondered what became of our sweet little "Emory".

I had forgotten this story until I read my daughter's blog (Harmonious House -- check it out!), about the stuffing of her mailbox with a Chinese food menu from a local Chinese restaurant. Reading her story made me laugh -- a lot- and then the memories came flooding back. Thanks, Gena, for the memories!

Dad

A little bit of heaven

This afternoon I enjoyed a little bit of heaven. Erick and Gena, Raegan and Greyson came over for lunch after services at Memorial Rd. We had a good lunch and it was quieter than usual, since Greyson was asleep as he was carried into our home by his Dad. Erick put him in a dark, quiet room for a long nap. The rest of us had lunch and then Gena left for an afternoon engagement. Erick stayed for awhile, until Raegan told me (I'm known as 'Poppy') that she wanted to go to with me to her room to play. This was to be a private party for the two of us, and no one else was invited. I felt really special. We went into the room and she shut the door, so that her brother, when he awakened, would not interrupt our play time. We played with a plastic puzzle for awhile and then decided to get out the markers and draw. We invented some improbable-looking animals, such as the "OSTLE", which is a turtle/ostrich combo, and jazzed it up in a manner that would have made Dr. Seuss envious. We then invented the hump-backed, flying, feathered, plier-jawed alligator, and a few other honorable mentions. Raegan has a good imagination, and it was fun helping her see some of the combinations she'll never gaze upon in the zoo. We drew and colored and then practiced turning random squiggles into 'real' creatures or odd-looking humans.

At one point, Paula and Erick came into the room, with Greyson, after he had awakened from his nap. Raegan did not care for the interruption of our 'private time' playing together. I couldn't let her see it, but inside, I was just beaming that, for this little bit of time, I was her preferred playmate. It was a little bit of heaven, this wonderful Sunday afternoon, and I'll never forget it!