Against All Odds

Posted by Steve, husband of Kim, and guest sandblogger during her Emmaus walk.

“I can’t take it anymore.” “Give me strength.” “I quit.” “What’s the use – it won’t work.” Life is certainly baptism by fire. We are challenged EVERY day; to be kind, to be courteous, to be honest, to be respectful, to be on time for work, to feed our children, to pay our bills, and the list goes on. With life comes difficulty. Some of it self inflicted, some of it thrust upon us unwillingly. We are strapped for time and often money as we try to make it from one day to the next. We hear catchy little phrases like “the glass is half full” or “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Fine and dandy until you come face to face with a wall that you know you CANNOT climb. The picture that accompanies this post is similar to the one that actually started my mind down this path. The picture is a flower growing where logic says it cannot. The original picture is of a petunia growing about half way up a set of brick stairs at the church where we have our Emmaus events. The stairs are brick held together by mortar – nowhere for a root to take hold….yet, there it is. When we hit that wall, can’t go on, know that success is impossible ---- turn to God (should have turned to God first, but that will have to continue into another post… we are, after all, imperfect humans striving to get it right). Philippians 4:13 says I can do all things through God strengthens me. When you are down there where the brick and mortar come together, stretch out your hand and touch what God gives – growth.

Mr. T.

Memories from Steve...

I have known Jeff for many years. We have been friends for part of that time and really good friends for part of that time. You don’t have to be around Jeff very long to know how important his dad is. And you didn’t have to be around Mr. Taylor very long to understand why.

During the time of my friendship with Jeff I have had opportunities to interact with Mr. Taylor. Church events, holiday and music events -- I have spent some time at chez Taylor, and I have had the good fortune to play in some of the same golf events as Mr. Taylor. To take that a step further along, not only have I been at the event with him but I have had the privilege of being in his foursome and on some days sharing a cart. Now Jeff was probably thinking, “Steve is going to have to listen to Dad’s stories > I wonder what is going to be told.” I do have some Jeff stories – but that’s for later. The stories were all new to me. And through them I feel as though I have already met Janice, Joyce and Joel.

As a salesman, something that has always impressed me is someone’s ability to remember names, faces, places, events, and the like. Mr. Taylor did not disappoint. He knew every – I mean EVERY course he had played and the shots on each hole. He would say, “Remember Steve, two years ago you hit that shot over close to that tree and had to use a ??? iron to hit low into the middle of the fairway…” I kind of remembered that it was the same golf course. I do remember the year he got his new driver. It was a shoebox on a stick. Time after time, shot after shot he would be right down the middle and as such would keep the foursome in the game and away from an embarrassing score. He let me hit it a time or two. It was incredible. With the wide face and flexible shaft I could hit my deeper into the woods than ever before. He liked it, and it was fun to watch him hit an exceptionally great shot.

Mr. Taylor was a deep thinker and remembered not only golf. He was a very active contributor to the devotional ministry at Johnson Memorial United Methodist. I suppose he can’t scold me now for outing him but some of his devotionals were penned under the Anonymous tag. As we would ride along he would share the thought process that led him to write what he did. He would cite writings far back in time and recount them almost verbatim. When it was an “Anonymous” devotional he would say something like, “Did you know I wrote that?” Well, yes I did but it was cool to watch him reveal it.

I always came away from my time with Mr. T. – better. Better for having gleaned a new nugget of information. Better for having been able to absorb some of his positive energy. Better for watching and learning from a man who loved his family, loved his life and loved his Lord. Better because he Walked the Walk.

He now gets to play where the fairways are always wide, the greens are always smooth and the cup is ALWAYS in the right place. Godspeed Mr. Taylor. Hit ‘em straight and far.

Steve Matthews

What are you Spewing?

Welcome to a frequent guest-sandblogger, my husband. Thank you to Steve, for filling in for me today while I am on an Emmaus walk. Steve has a gift for prayer -- he speaks from his heart to God's ear. When God wants someone to do him a favor, I imagine that he calls on Steve, because Steve is just that kind of guy. Enjoy his insight and wisdom.

My job, sales, affords me the opportunity to travel a wide geographic area and to visit many people – in their own offices. I love to read the messages people post, dangle and set around; “Poor Planning On Your Part Does Not Necessarily Constitute An Emergency On Mine” “If You Can’t Dazzle Them With Brilliance, Baffle Them With Bull” A stress relief device hanging on a hard surface – “Bang Head Here” “We Shoot Every Third Salesman and the Second One Just Left” And here’s the one I want to discuss now; “Everyone Brings Joy To This Office, Some When They Arrive, Some When They Leave” Nothing we do or say is ever wasted. We can find ourselves in a situation that seems to have no positive feature and certainly no positive outcome. If we choose to engage in a misery loves company mode, then we can spew a bunch more negativity into the room and the beat goes on. If we choose to try, as hard as it may be, to find one ray of sunshine then we may find that we have diffused a time bomb and set before all involved a straight path. A TV commercial I especially enjoy (forgive me for not remembering the product being sold) has one person extending to another a random act of kindness; picking up a dropped paper, helping to cross the street, etc. The act is witnessed by a third person and in the following scene, that third person is extending to yet another random act of kindness. This pattern continues through several sets of people. It’s not the person being helped that is the participant in the next situation but the one who watched the kindness displayed. It’s possible that when we spew forth our negative tirades, the person receiving the lashing is not the main individual affected – maybe the one watching the random act will, in turn, come unglued on still another. On the flip side, if they get to listen to a flow of positive words, even one positive word, they may then decide to share that warmth with someone in which they will be in contact. (the influence on a child comes to mind) Everyone brings joy – some when they come, some when they go. What are you spewing?

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Philippians 4:8

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Steve

Moments

Steve met Danny many years ago. When Steve first started working for the lighting company, Danny was tasked with buying the line at his own company, so the two of them started working together. Danny died a few weeks ago.

Steve wrote the following. Last night he handed it to me to read. (Posted with permission from Steve, a frequent guest Sandblogger.)

Today I sat and watched, helplessly, a 14 year old say goodbye to her father, a wife of 24 years say goodbye to her husband, and a crowd, filled to overflowing in the chapel of a funeral home, say goodbye to a friend. No matter what kind of life was lived or how many birthdays celebrated, we are NEVER READY to let go. My grandmother passed away in her 90's and despite "comforting" words like, "She lived a good life" and "She went peacefully," believe me -- we were NOT READY to let her go. Danny was a scant 53 years old and none of us had any idea how to say goodbye. As I looked around the room at the spread of photos showing Danny as a young employee, a young husband, a young father, it occurred to me that perhaps our lives are not measured in years but in moments. The moment you pass from school age into 'adulthood,' the moment your one and only says "yes," the moment you both say "I do," the moment your baby says "Dada," the moment you spend with friends laughing so hard you can't breathe, the moment you are introduced to a room full of people as "my best friend," the moment you watch a sunset at the beach, the moment you see your hometown from the air, the moment... the moment... the moment. It filled my eyes with tears and my throat with a lump when I realized that I would never again have the moment of peering around the edge of Danny's desk and hearing, "Hey, Steve-O." Danny always had a smile -- sometimes a beef to go along with it, but ALWAYS a smile. He will be missed, and every time we think of him will be a moment to smile.

Jim's Goodbye

Today's post was written by a guest blogger -- my husband Steve. He didn't write it for the blog, but he is letting me publish it here. It is a goodbye to a wonderful friend, Jim, whose funeral was today.

It sounds funny said in this direction – but God – Fear not. The sounds you hear in the kitchen are Jim getting acclimated to where you keep everything. He will soon learn where the wooden spoons are supposed to be, where the biscuit pans are kept and have a handle on the sharp knives. He will, no doubt, have a better system soon. Has he told you yet that when you wash an iron skillet you MUST put oil on it or IT WILL RUST? If not >> it’s coming. It won’t be long, and he will orchestrate the happy work in that room. Do you hear the laughter and giggles? Those are the kids. Jim carries gum and loves to make the children smile. Hear that softly spoken prayer? The one coming from bended knee? “Thank you Father for the life you gave me, for the friends that loved me and that I loved back.” That’s Jim too. While here on this earth, your earth, he loved you and strove everyday, every moment to serve. Jim was at his happiest and best when he was serving someone else.

I carry a key to this church. I come in here at various times to do various things. I came here on the Thursday that Jim died to help move furniture for an event happening Saturday. As I located my key and opened the 10th Street door the thought zoomed through my mind, “I would like to have Jim’s key.” I could swap mine and carry a constant reminder of my friend. I worked my way on into the church and soon found myself in the kitchen. A lot of my ‘Jim time’ was spent cooking, cleaning and sharing meals. I was not prepared for the flood that overtook me, and all of the sudden I found it hard to breathe. It was then I knew - I am not big enough to carry Jim’s key. It would be too heavy for this novice Christian. Every time Jim opened the door he opened himself. He came here with a trueness of purpose and pureness of heart. I doubt he never thought it, and he certainly never spoke it, “Why doesn’t someone else make the coffee, wash the aprons, mix the punch, clean the dishes.” Jim loved to serve.

When we lose someone there is often a place where the memory of them is the strongest. With Jim, he did so much that it will be difficult to take a step in town or drive very far before you think of him. In the church, walking on 10th Street, Gino’s 2 for Tuesday, the bus depot, the mall, Ashland Emmaus events, Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart is very close to our house. Several times after shopping, while heading around the back towards Norway Avenue, I would see Jim in the bus shelter. I would pull near and ask if he wanted a ride home. “Where are you headed?” he would ask. “Downtown.” I would answer matter of factly. Well, I wasn’t headed downtown but as my friend Jeff said on Sunday, “you couldn’t say no to Jim.” We wouldn’t go very far and he would look over and say, “You lie – you’re not going downtown.” So I got found out – it was still a great chance to help out the great helper. I look at these as a multitude of opportunities to remember and be thankful for Jim.

In a poem written the day Jim left us, my wife Kim wrote these words. (this is only part of the whole)

But here, in this broken world
We are left without him.
There is a hole in our hearts
And time has stopped.

We thank God for Jim.
For his gift of service to others.
For his song, for his way.
For his dance through this life
We thank God for Jim.
And we have no idea what we will do
Without him.

As we move through our lives we study and learn about the grace given to us by God through his Son. We read and we try to imagine. We put faces to the stories and the parables. Jim Ray was a real life, ‘in our time,’ walking around image of grace. Picture Jim and remember, picture Jim and smile, picture Jim and help someone, picture Jim and show grace.

Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

On this earth Jim’s earthly body could no longer sustain him. He is now healed and whole and living with his Father.

Good night my friend, good night.

Fill the Whole Hole

“There’s a God shaped hole in all of us
And the restless soul is searching
There’s a God shaped hole in all of us
And it’s a void only he can fill”

These are words from a contemporary Christian group called Plumb. Plumb’s music deals a lot with going from dark to light. To paraphrase the lead singer, “…I want people to know that the hard times, just like a piece of coal, can be turned into a diamond.”

We set our sights on so many things that, until it’s nearly too late, we don’t realize really don’t matter. We have a hole and we want to fill it – with TVs, cars, clothes, toys … stuff. We have dark moments and we want to fill them – with drugs, alcohol, escape.

A quick Bible search on the internet turns up no less than 257 verses answering to the word “fill”. From Genesis through Revelation people are filled with awe, wisdom, fear, compassion skill and yes, the Spirit of God and the Holy Spirit. A favorite verse comes from Paul’s letter to the Romans chapter 15 verse 13; May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Let us fill our emptiness with what is offered from above so that our lives will be a God shaped WHOLE.

Anniversary

Twenty years ago
I walked down the aisle
To marry him.
All of the possible distractions of the day,
The wrinkled dresses
The reception hall chairs set up in rows
Like toy soldiers
The missing ushers.
The dress caught in the car door
The aunt with the purple hair.
All of the possible problems
Had no ability to distract.
Peace was in my soul
Love was in my heart
Because he was standing
At the end of the aisle.

Life has moved on
Sometimes galloping
as our children have been born
And have grown as if the camera were set
on time lapse.
Sometimes creeping
As we worry about both of them
And each other.
Twenty years is the blink of an eye
And is twice a lifetime.
But through it all
Peace has been in my soul
Love has been in my heart
Because he has been standing
In the kitchen
At the end of the day.

Twenty years have passed
Since we both said "I will"
"I do"
"I will love this person in front of me
For the rest of my life."
All of the possible distractions
Can't take away from that one promise.
Not the bills
Not the broken appliances,
or the cars which just stop.
Not the messes the kids create
or the dirty clothes.
Not the worries, or the time apart,
And not the water in the basement.
All of it fades in importance
Because
Peace is in my soul.
Love is in my heart.
Because he is standing
By my side.

Happy 20th Anniversary, Steve. I love you.

Image: Our wedding, obviously. Very young. In the photo (from left to right)--> Jenny (cousin), Lora, Me, Dr. Wood, Steve, Bob, Greg, David. In the pews, front row, from left to right --> Mom, Dad, George, Judy (all backs of heads).

Sounds

Steve and I were sitting on the terrace of our hotel for a while. When we got back to the room, he sat down and wrote this, which he handed me. I, of course, asked if I could post it.

A few moments behind Steve's closed eyes:

Tonight I sprawled out on a lounge chair on the 7th floor deck overlooking the ocean. I closed my eyes with the expressed purpose of listening. We talk about the "sights and sounds," but it is the sights that get the lion's share of our attention. I heard the waves crashing to the shore, and the wind, of course. I heard people talking beside me, people talking above me (somewhere between floors 7 and 15), an infant talking, an infant screaming (different infants), a car motor, a car horn, the creaking of a hammock (ropes in knots, hooks on the stand? -- I dunno), a sliding patio door, opening and THUMP closing, glass tinkling (glass on glass, ice on glass, a knife in an empty peanut butter jar? - again, I dunno), the gate to the observation deck closing - bang/clang (the spring could use some adjustment), an airplane overhead, and last but not least, Steve Perry and Journey singing something from the 80's -- a time my kids call oldies. They had better watch, or I'll make them wear my bell bottoms and leisure suits -- then we would hear more screaming.

Image: The moon from the terrace as we left to come back to the room.