Category: memories

Posted on

Blast From the Past: Still More

When we last left our hero, he was wondering what was going to happen next.

I was without work. I thought I was going to realize the fulfillment of a long held dream of coaching college basketball. So, I sent out resumes and waited. I talked to every coach I knew. And I waited. The summer came and went and still no coaching job. In fact, there were no jobs at all on the horizon. We didn’t feel free to move to another area because my parents and my wife’s parents had moved here to be near us and they were in declining health and needed our help. The search continued. As all this was going on, we had to give our Cocker Spaniel to the pound because he was old and had too much wrong with him for us to afford to have him treated. It was not a fun summer. About a week after we gave our dog away, I was out on yet another job search. As I drove past the animal shelter, I lost it. I began to pray, cry, and yell at God. I even cussed (I know that shocks some of you, but that’s the way it is). I told God that if I had anywhere else to go, I’d chuck this whole Christian thing. I realized that, like the disciples, I had nowhere else to go, that Jesus was the only one worth following.

In September of 2005, I was hired by a tour bus company to drive. I was glad because it would give me a chance to travel. As it turned out, the majority of the job consisted of leaving the house at 4:00 AM, driving to a National Guard camp eighty miles away, and shuttling troops back and forth from the camp to a nearby army base so they could be processed for active duty in Iraq. Most of the day was spent sitting on the bus and waiting for the soldiers to get their paperwork in order. I would usually arrive back home sometime after 10:00 PM. Because of this schedule, I usually only worked three days a week, so the income wasn’t real good. The company also had no health insurance for their employees.

At first, I wondered what I had done wrong, wondered why God had “put me on the sidelines”. I felt like I was in a desert. Sitting on the bus gave me plenty of opportunity to read, think, and pray. God began to teach me about trust and patience. He reminded me that he was the most important one in my life, and that my identity was in Jesus, not in being a teacher or coach. I began to rethink even more of my assumptions about God, church, and life. At the same time, God was teaching me increasingly to trust him. Jan and I saw God provide for us again and again.

In January 2006, I walked out of the desert. I was hired as a teacher’s assistant in a self-contained special education class at a public middle school. The kids I work with all have learning disabilities, some more severe than others. Many of them are from low income families. Quite a change from the Christian schools previously worked in, although not as much as I would have thought. Kids are kids wherever you go.

Also in January, both my mom and my mother-in-law went into a nursing home. Jan’s mom suffered a stroke, and my mom was suffering from advanced Alzheimer’s. Our ministry to our parents changed somewhat, as we were visiting our moms and essentially being there for our dads. It was hard to go into a place full of people who were essentially waiting to die and visit Mom, knowing that she would never leave in this life.

I’ll give your eyes a rest and write more later.

Posted on

Blast From the Past: More

It’s another day, so I’ll continue my story.

About three years ago (now about fifteen years), God started doing some things in me that would change the way I saw life and ministry. Through a “chance” look at a magazine, I discovered TheOoze.com and immediately began to read the articles and enter into the discussions. I became aware that there were a lot of others out there that just didn’t quite fit in the cubbyholes that “church” tried to put us in. I began to read authors outside of what I knew as mainstream Christianity, people like Brian McLaren, Leonard Sweet, Phillip Yancey, Mike Yaconelli, John Fischer, Rob Bell, N.T. Wright, and others.

God began to show me that at least part of what I had been taught and believed was not Biblical, but was simply a part of the culture of mid to late twentieth century America. So, now my rebellious spirit had a legitimate focus. Now, I saw myself as sort of a “missionary to the fundamentalists”. I began to teach some of these things to my middle school Bible classes. I tried to convey to them that Christianity is more than just mentally assenting to certain propositions and following certain rules. Hopefully some of them got it and will spread the subversiveness.

Unfortunately, this chapter in my life was to come to a rather abrupt end. The school decided to basically eliminate all the middle school teaching positions and give those classes to the high school teachers. They also decided to eliminate the athletic director position, and since I was both a middle school teacher and the athletic director, my contract was not removed.

More to come…

Posted on

Blast From the Past

I thought I’d go back in the archives and give those of you who don’t know a whole lot about me a glimpse of where I am coming from and what has led me to where I am now. This is the first of some posts I wrote a while ago that will give you a bit of a glimpse inside. Enjoy.

I started my journey as a follower of Jesus when I was four years old. I know that may seem young, but I distinctly remember asking God to forgive my sins and save me, and I believe that’s when I became his child. Obviously, at that age, I didn’t have a clue about how this was going to work out in my life. I grew up as a pretty good kid, started a period of rebellion as a teenager, went to a conservative Bible college where the rebellion continued, actually graduated and began a few years of ministry in Christian schools.

My rebellion continued, but changed from a general fighting against “authority” to a realization that a lot of the things I was taught in fundamentalism were not only not sensible, but were not even Biblical. For awhile I tried to still minister in fundamental schools, while growing increasingly frustrated with the legalism and lack of grace and love that I saw around me and sometimes experienced. I know that I was seen as a “black sheep” by many.

About three years ago, God began to take me on a part of the journey that would change my life.

But, that’s a story for another day.

Posted on

Father

All of us have fathers. My father was a good man. Not perfect, but good. There never was a time when I didn’t know he loved me. He was a good provider and role model. I learned a great deal from him, although not as much as I could, or should, have. He was the kind of father that makes me proud to be his son.

Many folks don’t have a father like that. It is heartbreaking to hear those who had fathers who were absent. Some of their fathers died while they were young, others were absent because of work or simply lack of interest. More heartbreaking are the stories of the fathers who were abusive, who treated their children in ways that no one should be treated.

Our picture of God is often colored by our experience with our earthly fathers. Some of us see God as Abba, as the loving Father who cares perfectly for his children. To us, he is Papa, Daddy. Others unfortunately, have a hard time seeing God as their Father. Their image of God is that of a King who is hard, who is demanding, who is always asking more and more of us. That saddens me, because I believe the picture we have of God has a great deal to do with how free we are able to live as his children.

I once heard someone say something which I  believe will help those who struggle with the idea of God as Father. If you have trouble with that, try to imagine the perfect father, with all of the best attributes and no bad qualities. Imagine a father who always makes good and loving decisions, and who always does what is best for his children. Then, take that image and magnify it beyond comprehension. Do that and you have God.

Even the best of earthly fathers are imperfect. My father had his flaws, and I definitely have mine. But our heavenly Father, our Abba, has no flaws. He is absolutely perfect. He is everything anyone would want in a father, and more. We can’t begin to imagine such a perfect father. But we can accept that he is and trust him to be exactly what we need.

Cry out to Abba. Let his furious love wash over you and let him wrap you in his arms. Crawl up in his lap and rest in his perfect care.

Posted on

A Poem: Home Again

I wrote this one a couple weeks ago.

HOME AGAIN
It’s been said that you can’t go home again
I decided to see for myself, so I went back
Back to the places that shaped me
The places that for so long defined my life
They were still there, still the same
Yet somehow different, somehow changed
The house I grew up in seemed smaller
The tree in the front gone, the shed in the back dilapidated
The elementary school still stands, but it too has shrunk
So have the baseball fields where I used to play
The junior high is now a community center
The posts with dirt on top replaced by benches
My old high school has been torn down
Replaced by a new one that looks like a prison
The small town has grown into a sprawl of suburbia
Where it takes forever to drive anywhere
The chicken house has no chickens or eggs
The “giant” hogs are gone from the pen
The path up the hill through the pasture is overgrown
Just a few cows still wander the hillside
The old house has hot water now
You don’t have to heat water on a wood stove for a bath
Cell phones have replaced the old crank wall phone
Where you listen in on other folks’ conversations

The old mules are no longer around
And the smell of Paw’s pipe is long gone
The old wooden church we used to visit is gone
Replaced by a larger brick building
Family names still dot the old graveyards
New ones have been added

They say you can’t go home again
You can, but it’s not home
Posted on

Ten Years Ago, Part 2

It was a beautiful early Fall day, and my dad and I had travelled down to the Charleston, SC area to watch his grandson, my nephew, play soccer. My mom had passed away thirty-three days earlier. I didn’t really want to be gone from home that day but drove him down because he really wanted to go.

I’m glad I went, because that day would be the last time I would see my father in this life. During halftime of the soccer game, while my niece and I were coming back from the concession stand, my dad suffered a massive heart attack and died. Paramedics tried to revive him, but he was gone and suddenly I was without both of my parents. I truly believe that Dad died of a broken heart.

Here it is, ten years later, and so much of that day and the ones immediately following are still pretty fresh in my memory. I had lost my hero, the one I looked up to even when I was angry with him. Even though there were things we didn’t see eye-to-eye on, I still loved him and knew that he loved me. I see a great deal of my dad in me and even though I didn’t get the handyman gene,(that skipped me and went straight to Josh) I did inherit enough stubbornness to at least try. Sometimes I’m successful!

Over the past ten years, I’ve become more and more comfortable in my own skin, as my father was comfortable in his. I look back with satisfaction at the ways I am like him. It’s in those ways, now that I understand better, that I saw Jesus in my dad. Hopefully the same is true with me.

Posted on

Ten Years Ago

It was on this date, ten years ago, that my mom left this life and entered the next. Today we went to the memorial service for the wife of a friend of my father-in-law. As family members spoke of their wife and mother, my mind went back to that day when we said goodbye to the one who had given me birth.

It was a bit hard to hear others speak of their mother on the tenth anniversary of my mom’s passing. I thought back, as I heard the sons speak lovingly of their mom. While the last couple of years of my mom’s life were spent dealing with the devastating effects of Alzheimer’s, I can look back beyond that time to the person she was before the disease so cruelly took her away.

The thing that stands out most in my mind was the quiet, solid faith of my mother. She was not a theologian or one who taught great numbers of people. But, her life had an impact on me, my sister, our children, and many others. She was what C. S. Lewis would have called a mere Christian.

Jesus said that one of the defining characteristics of his followers would be their love. That was certainly true of my mother. She was known as one who loved. Her love for her husband and for her children was evident to all. Her love for others outside of her family was obvious to all who knew her.

Mom was kind and hospitable to all, and was generosity was well known. She was the epitome of grace and love to all who knew her. I pray that some of that was passed down to me. While the last years of her life were hard on her, and on us, I am thankful for the memories of a mother who kept the greatest commandments, who truly loved God and loved others.

Posted on

A Passing Generation

This past Friday, my father-in-law passed from this life into the next. He had been in an assisted living facility for a year and a half after falling and breaking his hip. A little over a month ago, he celebrated his 95th birthday and it became increasingly clear that his life on this earth was nearing its end. He became unresponsive on Thursday, and on Friday took his final breath.

There has been grieving, as is normal when a loved one is no longer there, but there is also a sense of relief and a knowledge that his suffering is over and he is now completely whole and at peace. There is also a sense that things are now different, as the last of our parents has passed from the scene. This generation has been called the “greatest generation,” and there is a sense in which this is true. They defeated the greatest threat to the world up to that time, and came back to build a country that became the most influential on earth.

My father-in-law was a good example of that generation. Charlie left a small town in Iowa to move to Washington, DC and begin a career with the FBI. He began as a clerk, going to school at night to get a college degree in order to become a special agent. This career was interrupted by war and he joined the navy and served in the Pacific as a signalman on a troop transport. His ship was torpedoed by the Japanese and survived a typhoon. After returning to the US, he was promoted to special agent. He served in that position for twenty four years.

After retiring from government service, Charlie spent a few years as head of security at a local bank. I met him after he retired when I began to date his youngest daughter. From the start, I felt completely accepted. I was made to feel like part of the family. For some reason my father-in-law thought I was pretty special. When he moved into the facility in 2014, I hung some plates on his wall. I have a decent eye so I was able to hang them pretty straight without using a level. Charlie was always telling people who came in to see him that I had done such an amazing job of hanging them straight by just eyeballing them. He continually told me what a good son-in-law I was and how glad he was that I had married his daughter. He was always a huge encouragement to me..

Charlie’s sense of humor was a source of amusement for all of us. From him, we learned how a crow lights on a limb. We also learned that if you didn’t know where someone was, they were probably on a night train to Memphis, and we also learned the answer to the question, “Think all this rain will hurt the rhubarb?” (Answer: Not if it’s in cans) My father-in-law, along with my mother-in-law got along very well with my parents, so it was a joy to be able to get to together with all four of them when we visited, and later when all four moved to be near us.

Charlie Parkis is at rest with his Savior. I am grateful for the way he accepted me as if I was his son and for the encouragement he was to our family. He will be missed, but we know we will see him again some day.  

Posted on

Becoming

Here is another attempt at poetry.

I see it when I look in the mirror
When I notice the hair disappearing

I see it in the way I walk
And how I stand

In the way I talk, how I laugh
My accent, the words I use

In my slightly odd sense of humor
And the way I like to tease

I see it in my stubbornness
My sometimes quick flashes of temper

In my attempts to fix things
Even though they’re not always successful

In so many things
Especially when I bump my head, I see

That I am becoming my father

Posted on

End of an Era

A couple of weeks ago, I coached for what possibly will be the last time. While I never say never, and there is always the possibility that may change, it looks like my thirty four year career as a coach has come to an end. There are a lot of memories, mostly good, that come to mind as I reflect on what has been a major part of my life.

It all began in college, where I worked with the goalkeepers on the soccer team. That was when I decided that I wanted to coach. The coaches I had during my playing days had a profound impact on my life, and I wanted to do the same thing for others.

After graduation, I took a position at a small Christian school as athletic director and teacher.During the next four years, I coached boys soccer, basketball, and track. I drove the bus, van, or whatever vehicle was available. We traveled all over the Washington/Baltimore area, and one year drove a group of students all the way to Idaho for competition. We played on city soccer fields, church gymns, and had some pretty successful teams, winning a number of tournaments. One of the soccer players led the entire county in scoring one year, and a couple of basketball players went on to play in college.

The next stop was Cincinnati, where I again served as athletic director and coached soccer, basketball, and track. During my nine years there, we made it to the soccer state finals once, and made it to the basketball final four four times in a row, winning back-to-back state championships. Those teams were among the best defensive teams in the Cincinnati area, and one player ranked among the top players in career points in the state of Ohio. A couple of the players went on to play at the next level, and one is a successful high school basketball coach. After leaving that school, I assisted in a NCAA Division 3 women’s basketball program, where I got a small taste of the life of a college coach for one year. On that team, we had the number one player in three point shooting in the nation.

Our next stop was Rock Hill, South Carolina. There I coached a wider variety of sports. During the ten years there I coached boys and girls soccer, volleyball, girls basketball, and golf (really all I did is drive the golfers to matches and play behind them). While my teams were not as successful in terms of wins as some of the earlier teams, the athletes worked just as hard and were as much of a joy to coach. I also drove the bus, which gave me the opportunity to travel to Florida and Tennessee for tournaments. The best part was being able to coach both my son in golf, and my daughter in basketball. I cannot begin to tell you what a blessing that was to me. I had given up the search for a college job to be able to see them grow up, and being able to work with them and see them come to love sports like I do made it more than worth it. It’s something I would never trade.

The past eight years I have assisted on middle school football and track teams, and been the head coach on softball and volleyball teams. My “claim to fame” is assisting on the 8th grade football team on which Jadeveon Clowney played. I have also had the privilege to coach high school girls basketball on a higher level. I have been the head junior varsity coach and assistant varsity coach, working with one of the best coaches in the area. Those programs are the closest thing I could get to a college level job, and I thoroughly enjoy working with this individual. We had some good teams, making it to the SC AAAA Upper State championship one year. It is that program that I have said goodbye to as a coach.

It’s a bittersweet thing. My evenings will be much more free, and the long hours won’t wear me out. But, I know I will miss it. I have been blessed to be able to travel, to do something I loved for a long time, and to work with some fantastic people. If you are one of those who have spent some time with me, as a player or a fellow coach, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are the ones that made it such a joy.