BLESSINGS ON CORNERSTONE

Our family showed up at Cornerstone Church in March, 1996.  We arrived after a spiraling period of confusion and chaos.  After leading a church in Spencerville, MD for two-and-a-half years, I resigned because of a family crisis.  We packed all our belongings up in the two-car garage (with the church's permission) and headed for the Whippo family farm in western Pennsylvania.

After a month with Debbie's parents, we moved to an apartment in an empty building in Chester, WV (rent-free, courtesy of a special friend).  I spent the next several months looking for any kind of a job that would produce income.  Finally, Debbie and I interviewed with the Shelter Care social serving agency in Akron, OH.  Short story:  we were hired and began work about two weeks later.

At first, we lived in Cuyahoga Falls.  On Sunday, we knew we'd attend the Cornerstone Church;  we had attended seminary at the same time as Charlie and Brenda Young.  We'd heard of the stability, vision and growth of this congregation and were excited to be a part of their ministry. 

I called ahead to get the times for worship.  We arrived early:  me, Debbie, Troy (15) and Tracie (14).  We stood in the foyer waiting for the first service to end.  As the service time grew closer, the foyer began to fill!  Eventually, we were pushed over to the entrance to the office suite.  More and more people crowded into this limited space.  We could hear the worship team leading the congregation in the closing song.  Excitement was building!  By now the room was so packed with people, I wondered how anyone would get out of the service.  

Suddenly, the ushers (I remember that Dave Potter was one of them) pushed the doors open and people started streaming for the front doors!  Amazingly, the crowd parted as they passed through.  People were high-fiving us as they left the building, giving hints of what we should expect!  At one point Troy (over 6' tall) leaned over to me and told me, "Dad, I think I'm going to like this church!"  We were all feeling the excitement;  I asked him why?  His response was golden:  "There're a lot of good-looking girls that attend here!"  :-)

Gradually, we were able to squeeze through the crowd and enter the sanctuary.  People were literally running to get seats!  Dave Haydu was the worship leader at the time;  he did a great job!  The music was new to us and invigorating spiritually.  Brenda Young's message was on-target!  We knew we had found our new church.

That very day, the congregation was saying farewell to an associate pastor.  As a result, Brenda fairly quickly asked if I was allowed (by Shelter Care) to hold another position.  In a matter of weeks, I started as a part-time associate.  In June, her other associate left to attend seminary.  I stepped into the full-time role of Lead Associate and stayed for nearly six years.

Being free of the lead role, I was able to work in areas of strength and develop relationships.  I trained several Men's Ministry Teams while there.  I did a lot of oversight of the nearly twelve members of the staff (many were part time).  I picked up the nickname of the guy who wore many hats.

Our lives were on full-throttle during these years.  The Cornerstone family accepted us completely.  They also enfolded the many children and youth that we brought from our shelter home!  We felt so blessed to be part of this phenomenal work of God.  Cornerstone is the only church I've ever known where seventy-five percent of the congregation are first-generation believers!  It may sound like an exaggeration to say that we saw commitments to Christ EVERY WEEK - but it's the truth!

Jim Stetler became a role model and dear friend during these years.  He's one of the most amazing evangelists and disciplers that I have personally known.  He was tenacious!  I admire him deeply!

Working with Brenda was a highlight of my career!  I learned so much from watching her and sitting under her ministry!  She is an exceptional leader who invests deeply and places great demands on her staff!  I will be fore ver grateful for the investment she made in my life and ministry!

Our time in Akron was fraught with ongoing family dilemmas and stresses.  Our Cornerstone family coddled us and our kids and our shelter kids.  The prayers of God's people saw us through a seven-year process of recovery.  And praise the Lord, Troy remained in Akron and at Cornerstone even when we moved on to New Middletown.  He became established in his faith and began to participate as a leader in the young adult ministry!  Thanks be to God.

It was when we arrived at Cornerstone that I decided to change my name.  On our first Sunday, I asked Brenda if she would help me do that.  I had always disliked the name Harold, so, with her help everyone in Akron began to know me as Hal.  :-)  [It's short for Hallelujah!]

There are SO MANY stories that could be told.  In the late fall of the same year we arrived, I stepped in temporarily as worship leader.  The connection with the people was so strong that I continued that role until we left in the summer of 2003.  The church grew to three services during that season and we were thrilled to be a small part of it!

We were led into ministries that we would never have dreamed of.  Debbie came to lead a Bible study for a group of women who were trying to break away from destructive life patterns.  She remembers mentioning Moses in the first study meeting;  these women said they'd heard his name, but wanted to know who he really was.  We were called to some of these homes for crisis interventions at all hours of the day (or night).  They became our newest friends!  God was so gracious and kind to work in us and through us during these years!

Gradually, my role emerged to be more of counseling than anything else.  Brenda also counsels.  We also had a counseling center in the church staffed by members of the congregation:  Cornerstone Care!  We were constantly reaching people who were caught in the perils of life and were looking for a lifeline!

Discerning and training leaders was a major part of our role!  No one does that better than Brenda Young!  She taught me to hold the crown over people's heads and let them grow into it!  [Those who know Brenda have heard those words before...]

I feel the pain of the current congregation as they leave a building that has many memories.  However, I am fully confident that He who began a good work in you, WILL COMPLETE IT until the day of Jesus Christ!  Keep the ministry strong, Cornerstone people!  Keep loving and caring for those who need it!  Keep snatching them from the fire!  God isn't finished with you YET!!!!!  Trust Him to cover the details!

Much love and frequent prayers from Pastor Hal!!!!!!!!!

BIG SHOES TO FILL

I read on FaceBook that my friend, Dale Garrett, died Tuesday.  When I passed this word to my son, Troy, he expressed the same genuine sorrow that I did when I heard the news.  We sat in the same row with Dale and Pat on Sunday morning at church.  It's hard to believe that he's gone.  Genuine sympathies to Pat and his family!

I was Dale's pastor for nine years.  He was a regular attender and continual encourager.  His unique laugh echoed in our halls and his charismatic smile infected anyone around.  

Dale drew a crowd when he started into his story-telling mode.  His 'bigger-than-life' stories were captivating and often left you wondering how much was actually accurate.  I've heard him tell stories about his brothers and sisters on numerous occasions.  They must have been a tough bunch!  He made them sound like lumberjacks or studio-wrestling types.   He would unwind his stories and look you right-in-the-eye and say, "It's the truth!"  :-)

The whole community will miss him for his assumed role as Santa Claus every Christmas season!  He served the children and adults of our area for years as its greatest advocate of genuine Christmas joy!  He was tireless in portraying this venerable character!  Nobody did it better!

We invited him to stop by one year when our grandchildren were visiting.  They were apparently too young to appreciate him and stood watching from behind their mother.  But Dale spent over an hour trying to coax them to his side.  

Eventually he turned his attention to our son, Troy, and our son-in-law, Jon.  Before long, he had Troy on the floor teaching him how to do a one-handed push-up!  And the stories rolled...

This expression of Christmas joy came to fruition one year during our NIGHT OF JOY celebration.  As we presented the Christmas story that year, I had asked Dale to be a part of the evening.  He showed up - in costume - and greeted people in the foyer before and after the program - picture-taking abounded!  

But the most meaningful moment of the evening came when Dale (Santa) came forward at the climax of the play and knelt at the manger for a few moments.  Powerful!

Many kids grew up at Free Methodist Community Church thinking that Santa attended their church all year long!  

One of the things I loved about serving Free Methodist Community Church was the fact that we were rich with men on Sundays.  There were a number of times during my tenure that I made a special appeal to men in the congregation.  Each time I did so, Dale Garrett was the first on his feet and moving toward the front.  I have no doubt that he loved the Lord and sincerely tried to be a good man!  

Dale's generosity was a hallmark!  He gave freely of his time, talent and treasure.  On a couple of occasions he encouraged me to borrow his Corvette to use in taking Debbie out on a special date.  I guess I was too proud to accept his offer which is a shame because I know he really wanted me to do so.  

In 2012, Debbie and I left our role at FMCC and headed for China to teach English.  Dale was so excited for us.  Many years earlier, he and Pat had lived in Japan for a number of years and he regaled me with stories of the different countries they had visited and lived in.  He strongly reassured me that this experience would be valuable and enjoyable.  Of course, he was right!  

During our three years in China, communications gradually declined - the "out-of-sight, out-of-mind" principle at work!  We distinctly felt the loss even among our family.  We had some pretty lonely holidays during those years.  But Dale never quit communicating!  I have a file of stories that he sent along that brought me laughter and joy at a time of relative isolation.  He kept me informed about his grandchildren and his other activities.  

Like so many others, I'm going to miss him!  I'll miss that high-pitched "He he he..." that signaled his excitement!  I'll miss him coming up to me and telling me:  "Pastor Hal, you're a good man!"  He was the good man!  He made an impression!  Be sure that my prayers will prevail for Pat and the rest of this special family!  Heaven is richer as this new resident thunders down the streets of gold!  

If you'd like to read his obituary, copy and paste this link:  

http://www.vindy.com/news/tributes/2017/nov/02/dale-l-garret/

Feeling Grateful

Yesterday, since it was rainy and I couldn't work outside, I decided to drive up to my brother's house in northcentral Pennsylvania.  He's downsizing and offered me his riding mower.  So, I hitched up my little flatbed trailer and headed off in the late morning.

It's a four-and-a-half-hour trip;  I arrived at 3:00 PM.  Joyce had a nice lunch for me and we sat and talked for a while.  Then Ira and I went out to load the mower and tie it down.  They invited me to spend the night and the better part of wisdom said I should do that;  however I took off a little after five o'clock.  

By the time I reached route 80, it was already dark.  It made for a long, lonely trip.  In spite of having the trailer loaded, I was still able to roll along with traffic at 70 miles-per-hour.  I expected to arrive home a little after 10:00 PM, watch some TV and go to bed.  That's NOT the way it happened.

Around 8:45, as I was accelerating up an incline, my Xterra began to shudder.  I couldn't tell if I had a flat on the vehicle or the trailer.  I immediately slowed down but did not pull off.  The Emlenton exit was coming up and I hoped to make it.  I did.  

There was a truck stop there!  Yay!  I pulled under some lights and disconnected the trailer so I could locate the sound.  It was definitely coming from the car.  I crawled under the car with my flashlight and checked the tie-rods and springs.  Everything looked good.  I gripped each wheel and they all seemed tight.  

I  notified the people inside that I would be sleeping in my vehicle.  After calling Debbie, I hunkered down to spend a long night in the Xterra.  UNCOMFORTABLE!!  And rather chilly!  I forced myself to stay put until 6:00 AM.  Then I went inside for breakfast.

After talking with some locals, I discovered that there was a repair shop across the street!  :-)   I pulled over and waited for them to arrive;  they opened at 8:30 AM.  

The owner was more than happy to take it for a short ride.  He then pulled it inside and jacked up the front right.  The wheel wobbled significantly!   Two lug bolts had sheared off!  Two other lug nuts had fallen off along the way.  Of the remaining two, one was loose.  

Now mind you, I had been rolling along at 70 mph with one lug nut holding my tire on!!!!!    See why I'm feeling grateful?   

Psalm 46:1  
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.

POST SCRIPT

My Mom had a peculiar way of thinking about things.  I suppose it emerged from her Reformed Presbyterian upbringing.  She strongly believed in God's protection!  I can't tell you how many times, when we were traveling, that she would see an accident and say something like:  "Leonard, if we hadn't ______________  [fill in the blank:  gotten that long light, or stopped for iced cream, or left a little late...] we might have been involved in that accident."   I'm sure that each of my siblings would smile at this explanation;  they all heard it as often as I did!  

I thought of Mom this morning after my car was fixed and I was back on route 80 - again going 70 mph!  A few miles down the road there was evidence of a MAJOR accident:  deep black skid marks for several hundred feet and crumpled guard rails for an equal distance.

You know what leaped to my mind?

If I hadn't pulled off last night because of my problem...

;-)  

OCTOBER THOUGHTS

In some respects, it's remarkable that I haven't written more about my Mom over the years!  She was certainly the dominant force in my formative years.  As I've written before, my father wasn't an affectionate man and we did very little together.  I did become closer to him when I became an adult, but we never shared a deep sense of bondedness.

But Mom (Hazel Haire) was my 'hand's on' parent!  Her impact was persistent and powerful!  Her constant love for the Lord led her to be deeply involved in our local church.  When I was a teen, she was a key leader in the Pittsburgh Conference Women's Missionary Society.  Her passion for missions was epic!  We frequently had missionaries stay in our home overnight or for a few days! 

In addition, she was deeply committed to prayer!  Her Bible is still filled with lists of people that she was regularly praying for.  She cultivated in me a passion for God and for the things He cared about.  She poured endless time and energy into preparation for mission events.  She planned and executed "This Is Your Life" programs for a number of missionaries and other church leaders. 

I still possess notebooks in which she tucked away magazine clippings, bulletin items, scriptures, sermon notes, and other items that she didn't want to lose track of.  I wonder if she had a dream of someday collating much of this information into a book-form?  She inculcated a similar practice in me that has resulted in a massive, alphabetized electronic file that has fueled my sermons and teaching for decades! 

She died a little over a year after having a heart-valve replaced.  The surgery had been successful, but the anti-rejection medications eventually took her life.  She died less than two months after Tracibeth was born.  The date was October 10, 1981.  I was 29.

Losing her had a massive impact on my life!  Essentially, Troy and Tracie have no memories that include her!  :-(   Travis had some memories of her deep love for him!  I understand that this is one of the results of being the youngest in my family;  however, knowing that my children missed out on her tremendous influence and love has been a chronic point of sorrow for me! 

For years after her death, I experienced a bout of depression when October rolled around.  Even though over thirty-five years have passed, I still can't get past an October 10th without missing her deeply! 

Then, two years ago, early October was marked even more deeply by Travis' death!  We got word of his cardiac arrest on October 5, 2015.  It was just past 3:30 PM and I was about to get in the car when Troy put his hand on my chest and said, "Dad, you're not going to Kittanning today."  That's when our world collapsed...

By 8:30 PM, remarkably, we were on an airplane headed for Honolulu.  The next day we arrived at the hospital to stand by his bedside and weep.  He died three days later on October 9.

The next weeks went by like a blur.  There was a memorial service at the Pearl Harbor Chapel attended by his work associates and friends.  There was the funeral at the Naval Academy in Annapolis.  Through it all - we were numb.

The first anniversary of these dates was difficult.  We (Debbie, me, Troy, Tracie and Josh) mourned together via text.  We upheld one another with words of affection and prayers of concern.  We were all deeply hurting.

This year has been different.  Debbie and I spent a quiet week at a condo in North Carolina.  She hardly went out at all.  I ventured out for some hiking.  We were quiet all week.  We both did a lot of reading and napping.  Troy and Missy attended a retreat in Arizona for the siblings of lost military members.  I guess we're all finding our way through this the best we can...

Since Travis passed, our 'highs' aren't near as high and our 'lows' are much lower!  Neither of us are as social as we used to be.  Even Debbie, who has carried me relationally for over forty-four years, now often suggests that we just 'take a pass' on interactive engagements. 

Many others have been down this road before us.  They report that the pain lessens with the passing of time.  I guess we can attest to that to some degree, however, the knowledge that our precious son is gone can assault us at the most unsuspecting moments. 

We live with questions that can't be answered or are too difficult to ask...  Times of real joy - that used to regularly punctuate our lives - are extremely rare now. 

Somewhere in my training as a counselor, I read that one must talk of your lost loved one for one-hundred hours to facilitate the healing process.  However, most people - understandably - are reluctant to bring up Travis' name for fear of causing us pain.  A corrective to this scenario is:  WE LOVE TALKING ABOUT OUR SON! 

I recently had a chance to talk with our nephew, Colin Bredl, who is also serving as an officer in the United States Navy.  I shared a number of 'Travis stories' with him.  I don't know what he thought of my candor.  It was therapeutic for me to talk with Colin.  Upon Travis' death, his Commander heard about Colin;  some phone calls were made and Colin was granted 'leave' to travel to Annapolis for the funeral.  It meant a lot to us to have him there! 

I weep.  I hold Debbie when she weeps.  We occasionally lay awake at night in sullen sorrow.  Sometimes we speak;  other times we just hold hands.  All of the time we lean on the One who loves us most:

Does Jesus care when my heart is pained

Too deeply for mirth or song,

As the burdens press, and the cares distress

And the way grows weary and long?

Refrain

Oh yes, He cares, I know He cares,

His heart is touched with my grief;

When the days are weary, the long nights dreary,

I know my Savior cares.

Does Jesus care when my way is dark

With a nameless dread and fear?

As the daylight fades into deep night shades,

Does He care enough to be near?

Refrain

Does Jesus care when I’ve tried and failed

To resist some temptation strong;

When for my deep grief there is no relief,

Though my tears flow all the night long?

Refrain

Does Jesus care when I’ve said goodbye

To the dearest on earth to me,

And my sad heart aches till it nearly breaks,

Is it aught to Him? Does He see?

Refrain

I WENT TO CHURCH THIS MORNING

For this week, we are living on a mountaintop near Banner Elk, North Carolina.  Being Sunday, I searched for a church to attend.  I chose a United Methodist Church in Banner Elk.

My GPS took me to a deserted lane on the campus of Lees McRae College. After doing some narrow backing up, I proceeded through the tight campus and discovered a Presbyterian Church.  After parking, while walking toward the church, I found the United Methodist Church.

It's web-page announced a worship at 9:30 AM.  The outdoor sign proclaimed a "Contemporary Service" at 9:40 AM.  It was 9:29 AM and there were no cars in the lot.

I slipped in a door marked "Entrance" and worked my way slowly up some steep stairs.  At the top, I peeked into a small fellowship room and was noticed by the pastor.  I asked if there was a worship service at 9:30 AM?  He said, "Yes, although it might be just you and me."

I went into the sanctuary and seated myself about halfway while he changed the hymn numbers on the board at the front and prepared the Communion Table.

Shortly after, another couple (also visitors) entered a different door straight into the sanctuary.  At 9:40, one parishioner also entered.

The pastor brought a stool back to where we were seated and began the very informal service by talking about his tenure at this church.  He arrived several years earlier to a congregation of five members.  He has seen some moderate growth since.  The roster at the front of the church indicated an attendance last Sunday of 40 and an offering of $166.21.

He then asked for prayer concerns and prayed for us.  He spoke of the different views of sacraments between Catholicism and Methodism.  He was very soft spoken and I had great difficulty hearing him.  He talked about Christ's last evening with His disciples and explained the Lord's Supper to us. Then he invited us to join him at the front of the chapel and he served us Communion.  He pronounced a blessing over us and the service ended.

As I wound my way to the back and started down the stairs, I yielded to about five elderly women who were arriving for the 11:00 AM worship service.

As I walked to my car, I felt guilty when I saw the sign that said the lot was strictly limited to use by people attending the Presbyterian Church!  A few cars were pulling in as I left - obviously to attend the 11:00 AM service.

You can imagine my thoughts as I drove back to our mountaintop retreat.

Sadness.  Overwhelming sorrow at a pair of churches located at the center of a college campus that are both propping up traditional forms of worship but failing to connect with people - especially young people!

I wept as I drove.

Although I've attended several churches over recent weeks, I've been disappointed at the simple head-nod that's been given to the horrendous grief thrust upon people who live in Houston, Florida, the Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico and Mexico.

I remember the massive spike in church attendance immediately following the attack on the twin towers in New York City in 2001.  It lasted one Sunday, largely because these inquirers didn't find relevance when they entered the doors.

I'm no longer leading a church, but that doesn't mean that I've dis-invested from it.  I love the church;  always have - always will!  But, like so many others, I long for it to be relevant and caring.  Exclusivity has no place in these walls! I pray for fresh winds of the Spirit to blow through our churches and our lives.  I pray for my own personal renewal.  

So many churches that I've been part of have been difference-making churches!  While serving at New Middletown, I kept a poster on my office door of people who had led someone to Christ.  Before I left, I had to add more space to the bottom of the page!  :-)

During my years on staff at the Cornerstone Church in Akron, the weekly staff meeting was so exciting!  Nearly EVERY WEEK there were reports of people surrendering their lives to Christ!  By God's grace, we were catching people from the dregs of life and putting their feet on a purpose-full path!

God,

Help us to clearly and accurately reflect Your love and mercy to the people You bring us into contact with every day!  Renew us through Your gracious forgiveness and enable us with charm and power as we seek to be Your Church to a lost and hurting world!

Amen.

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?

I woke up one morning in 1987, and noticed that my hearing was different. Throughout the morning I had a crackling sensation in my left ear, and by noon I couldn't hear at all.  I went to my doctor who sent me to an ear specialist.  I eventually had surgery to see if it was anything that could be repaired.  The doctor explained afterward that I simply had a condition referred to as 'nerve deafness'.  From that time onward, I have had a 100% hearing loss on my left side.

But to be honest with you, it hasn't bothered me that much.  Many people actually have this same handicap.  At that time, the hearing in my right ear was excellent.  So, life became a process of positioning myself (and others) to facilitate my hearing.  Debbie learned to always sit or walk on my right side.  I became adept at keeping people on my right side.

I had a friend while we lived in Maryland.  Al was always difficult for me to talk with.  I would get him where I needed him to be and then he would move. Talking with Al was like dancing...   When I invited him and a group of men to my home one night, I positioned myself so that everyone would be on my right;  Al took my seat!  I confronted him humorously about doing so.  That was the night that I discovered that he was also deaf on his left side!  The only way we could talk was to stand or sit face-to-face!   :-)

In short, things went well for the next two decades.  Many people didn't even know about my disability.

But then, the hearing in my right ear began to decline.  This presented me with problems.  By the time we went to China (2012), it had become rather pronounced.  My students learned to only approach me on my right side.  I struggled in my teaching role to hear my students.  When the need for proper pronunciation is center-ground, not-being-able-to-hear is a major issue!

I even stopped backpacking for a number of years because it was unnerving to be in the deep woods and not be able to tell where sound was coming from. On one week-long trip, I took my dog, Collar, with me;  I could watch him for cues and it gave me a sense of security.

One summer, while we were visiting the U.S., I received a used hearing aid from a friend.  It even had a receiver piece for my left ear that sent a radio signal to my right ear - supposedly giving me hearing ability on both sides. After some adjustments by a hearing specialist, it was a blessing and did help some.  I wore it for over two years until Debbie pursuaded me to go be fitted for my own personal hearing device.

Over $4,000 later, I was wearing an up-to-date, high-tech, very small hearing aid.

I still struggled to hear.  I have been back repeatedly for cleanings and adjustments, but I still struggle in most environments.

This reality has changed me - BIG TIME!

I am becoming increasingly socially adverse.  So many situations place me in an uncomfortable situation.  I find myself frequently in dilemmas where I'm pretending that I can hear.  I hate that!

Just last week, Debbie and I pulled into Freedom Church's lot for the annual car show.  As I parked, I mentioned to Debbie that my anxiety level was skyrocketing.  She tried to convince me that I would be among friends and people who loved me.  However, that is little comfort when you know you're going to repeatedly be in stressful situations because of your hearing deficit!

I find myself withdrawing more-and-more because of my hearing.  I am far less social than I used to be.  I am uncomfortable at church where I struggle to hear and understand what's being said from the platform.  I struggle in social events where many people are gathered and the collateral noise-level is high! I even have difficulty when speaking on the phone with people who talk really fast.

One huge aid is the ability to see a person's lips.  Between my limited hearing and the ability to see the speaker clearly, I can often figure out what's being said.

I don't like the changes this has brought about in my life!  It was certainly a factor in my premature retirement.  I miss the easy exchange of information that used to take place.  Now, I miss so much that it makes me wonder whether it's worth going places.  I particularly feel sorry for Debbie for having to repeat 80% of what she says to me!

HOWEVER, in the midst of this small difficulty, I am grateful.  I CAN still hear.  I bought a streamer for our television that feeds directly to my hearing aid!  Now I can watch TV without blasting Debbie and our neighbors!  I even brought it on vacation with us!  I still enjoy music.

My disability is minor compared to what so many people deal with!  My heart aches for people with real woes like:

• The people in Houston, Florida, the Virgin Islands, and Puerto Rico who have lost everything!
• Those mourning lost loved ones, jobs and homes in Mexico.
• Veterans who have lost limbs and other functions as a result of their military involvements.
• People who are struggling with cancer and other life-threatening diseases.
• Those with blindness, deafness or other disabilities from birth or early on in life.
• Those in Third World countries who live on less than a dollar a day and wonder where their next meal will come from.
• Those who are unjustly imprisoned with little-or-no hope of relief. 
• Those caught in extreme poverty or abuse with no power or connections of hope.

My challenge is simply that - a challenge.  It makes life a LITTLE harder.  I remain deeply grateful to God for ALL that He has done (and is doing) for me! His kindness is overwhelming! I will continue to praise Him and lean on His daily help to be all that I can be for His glory!  

A Visit to the Barber Shop

I'm just back from my local barber shop where I "got my ears lowered" (as my Dad used to say).  I've been visiting various barber shops since I was five. My Dad took me to Buzzy's at that age for my first experience with electric clippers being placed against my head.  I would have panicked if it wasn't for his constant eye-contact and head-nodding!

Until I was sixteen, I always went in my Dad's company.  It was a manly experience as I sat among the men there and listened in on their conversations.  When inappropriate language was occasionally used (particularly by Buzzy), I would look at my Dad and he would smile at me.  I knew that WE didn't use that kind of language (including SOB).

Over the years, I've observed that the barber shop is a good place to get a gauge on society and the culture.  Many barbers seem to enjoy talking and expressing their opinions as they cut.  It's a place where a free forum of ideas and opinions are expressed openly - without judgment.  Occasionally, opinions differ and discussions get louder and more animated.  But most of the time, there is an open atmosphere where opinions are expressed and usually appreciated.

I'm not one to frequent bars, but I suspect they might be another place where opinions are freely exchanged.  Like many of you, I've heard that bars are a place where "Sometimes you want to go. Where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came.  You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same."     [Cheers theme song;  lyrics by Gary Portnoy and Judy Hart Angelo]

How I've longed through the years that the church could be the same...

Actually, I've rarely entered into the barber shop dialogues.  Consider it a result of my introvert nature.  There have been times that I have sat through an entire haircut without speaking a word.  But, I listen!  And occasionally I agree or insert a thought of my own.

One thing is certain with my present barber shop - you will get a straightforward assessment of current affairs:  local and national.  My barber is NOT an introvert!  He does an amazing job of cutting hair while manifesting his loquacious nature at the same time!  I can't say I love dropping $16 each time I visit, but in the long run the haircut and entertainment are worth it!

Today, I walked in with no special expectations.  If I had thought about it ahead, I would have probably expected a diatribe about the unusually warm weather we've been experiencing for the last two weeks (of September).  I would have been wrong.

No, the topic for my entire haircut was the NFL.  Opinions didn't vary;  there was unanimity!  The guys in the shop (mostly age 50+) were all united in their disdain for the league, its coaches and its players.  Even Lebron James took a beating in the shop today for his recent foray into the topic (unusual for an icon in this area).

The anger for the protest against the flag and anthem was heated.  Stories were told of tickets being burned and a universal switch to college football on Saturdays.  Distant Super Bowl parties are being considered for a different day than the Super Bowl with the focus being on the food and just being together.

To be honest, I was caught unaware.  I figured the heat had died down since Sunday.  Apparently not!

I've been caught up in the fray as well.  Sunday was a really down day for me, and it had nothing to do with the Steeler's loss.  It's terribly discouraging to observe the distress in our country over this issue.  Can we agree that it's painful to see such a deep divide developing?

I once wrote a blog about my earliest memory.  It was of my father taking me to a Veteran's Day parade in upper Beaver Falls.  I recall him holding me in his arms (I think I was 3) and teaching me to take my hat off when the American flag went by (at that time, it only had forty-eight stars on it).  :-)

Consequently, respect for the flag (and our military and our country) is a very high value for me!

In my hours of reading and reflection on the present turmoil, however, I am coming to realize that for some people (particularly African Americans) their highest value may be "freedom and justice for all".  Because this value is so high, they choose to protest in a way that violates my highest value (respect for the flag, veterans and country).

End result:  we are all conflicted!

I haven't resolved this issue for myself and don't pretend to be a teacher or guide for others. However, I am trying to respond with an open mind and respect for my fellow citizens.  I'm trying to understand.  I'm praying for God to bring us to a place where we can unite without threats and certainly without violence!  I hope you'll do the same.