Column for May 26, 2011

It feels really weird typing right now. I just got back from my doctor’s office a little bit ago and my left middle finger is totally numb. I had an infection build up in my finger for some odd reason and went to my doctor to have it checked out. Well, I had to get my finger numbed with a shot and the abscess cut open. I was sent home with a Band-Aid and a prescription for an antibiotic. It just feels really weird banging on the keyboard and not being able to feel the keys below my finger. I keep having to go back and fix typos as I go along.

One neat thing I observed while driving back into town to go to my friendly neighborhood pharmacy in “Uptown” Selma was the sure sign of the beginning of summer in this sleepy little town. Just before Memorial Day, the town puts up American flags all up and down the main thoroughfares. I noticed it this past weekend, but got to enjoy the sight of fresh, crisp flags adorning the town yet again.

I have to admit, I love the sight of dozens of flags up and down Pollock Street and Anderson Street. The only down side is that we don’t put up the sort of poles and flag fasteners that are tangle free. Here is what I propose. I will be willing to sponsor a flag every year in Selma if other people and businesses are willing to do the same. I would love to see the flags continue flying, even in bad economic times. I would also like to see the flags fly freely without being bound up on a cheap little pole like I would use in front of my house.

I am not the sort who needs my name attached to a sponsorship of a flag. I am sure that there are others who would like the recognition. For instance, I am a member of The Friends of Fort Macon. They have a current fund raising drive to purchase some replica cannons for display there. Personally, I love Fort Macon and its historic value. That is why I got there at least once a year, patronize their gift shop, and joined their support organization. I don’t need my name on a plaque proclaiming my support of a cannon purchase. I am sure that is an enticement to others, so if that helps them, fine. I don’t need a Selma flag plaque or anything, but I am willing to bring about the idea and lead by example. OK, so my offer is now public for all to read. I hope to spur interest by others, as well in so doing.

Speaking of nice flags, it is probably time to replace both the American and State of North Carolina flags in front of Town Hall.

The longer it takes me to write my column, the more feeling is returning to my finger tip. After two and a half hours, I am glad to feel the keyboard. Taking off the Band-Aid helped some, as well, and my rate of typos has been cut down, though still not perfect. I am sure that tangent was of great interest to somebody, just probably nobody reading this.

On July 4th, Selma will put on a nice fireworks display, if all goes according to previous years’ tradition. I read that the town was looking for private donations and sponsorships for that display. So the flag idea is not entirely original. The town does well on displaying its joy of independence and pride in America. This is commendable.

Here is my hope, though. My hope is that residents and government officials at all levels would take the show of patriotism one step further. Take the time to learn more about the history of America, her values, and the truths that have buttressed this nation for a few hundred years. Get to know the sacrifice and morals that brought this country her independence and what makes her stand out from all of world history. Feel free to contact me for some recommended sources of great information.

My toddler, who is in my office, is grabbing my hand and pulling on it. I can definitely feel the pain killer wearing off and painful sensation return to my sliced open, infected finger. I guess it is time to stop typing and re-bandage my red, swollen digit. I think we have some cool Scooby Doo bandages somewhere. Hey, I have two young children at home.

God Bless America...and may he bless all Americans in the context of Acts 3:26.

Column for May 19, 2011

Today was a very frustrating day at work. I didn’t get anywhere near the amount of work accomplished that I had hoped. The past several days have been long and tediously frustrating, as well. My computer, which used to work well, started to get slower than cold molasses. I did some basic maintenance on it and it sped up nicely, but then started giving me massive problems with a connection to my company’s private network. It was one of those days.

Then I started thinking about some of the other things in my life. My television show lasted a little over six months and just recently went off the air because of a few different circumstances to which I can only shrug my shoulders and speak of my gratitude for the opportunity.

Occasionally I turn on the radio and listen to a disc jockey or talk show host and know that I am better at it than the person to whom I was listening, but still give thanks for the career that I have and realize that I am making more money now than I would be if I had pursued my broadcasting career. I have never been the best at any job I have had, but have always done well at most jobs and businesses I have held or owned. Some jobs I was not so well suited for, some businesses were not sufficiently successful to warrant my continued efforts. Nevertheless, I learned from them all.

I think about how the whole time I was growing up that I never won an essay contest, science fair, or craft fair but sure did have a lot of second place finishes. I think about how when I played Little League baseball, municipal league flag football, and high school football, I was never on a winning team. I learned a lot about teamwork, but I spent a lot of time watching other people play while I sat on the bench or stood on the sidelines. I was never a tremendous athlete, but I competed as I was able.

I think about how I have never won an election of any consequence (not counting some small club or organization) in school or in government, though I was always good at civics and social studies. I was always the one involved in youth government activities, reported on government affairs in my first media job, and did get the top overall social studies award in my graduating class. Though I have never gone further than I have, I am grateful for the influence that I do have in this little column, in my circle of friends, and on the internet.

I think about how my finances have gotten tight since my wife has been out of work for two years and I have had to take on another car payment recently out of sheer necessity. Then I give thanks that my wife is able to stay at home with my children rather than have some day care center raise my boys, that I have employment sufficient to meet all of our needs, and that I have been able to provide a happy, loving home for my family.

I think about how much work there is to do around my little quarter acre patch of earth. The hedges need trimming. The lawn that is looking shaggy. The house, shed, concrete drive and walkways, and fence all need power washing. I have a roof leak and some repair work to do in my kitchen. I have a finite amount of time in which to get it all done and don’t know how I will be able to accomplish any of it. Then I stop and give thanks that I have a temperate, dry house in which to live.

My wife and I are both getting older but have still been talking about having more children. I think about the stupid things I did as a youth that would make me a father of children the same age as the waitress I had the other night. I think about how my first marriage yielded no children for some thirteen years and how my present wife and I have suffered through two miscarriages just this past year. Then I stop and give thanks for the family I have. I have a dedicated, loving bride, a step son I love dearly, and a toddler that is truly the cutest baby I have ever seen. I have also been able to give my boys much more of a father than I got to have my own self when I was young.

You can usually find out where my thoughts are going from day to day on Facebook or Twitter on the internet, and today is no exception. I “tweeted” simply, “At least with Christ, I am always on the winning team.” In all the thoughts about how some things in life have not been as stellar as I would have hoped, I have other thoughts that can be summed up in this: His grace is sufficient for me, and for that I am grateful. Thank you, Father God, for your grace and for your son that you sacrificed for me, someone who never knew a winning team until you took me on as one of your teammates.

Column for July 30, 2009

I want to tell you the story of a friend of mine named Paul. Paul was a teenager whose life was on a downward spiral. He was just 18 years of age and was about to flunk out of high school. With just a few weeks left in the school year at Garner High School, this boy of Puerto Rican extraction was on the street after having a major fall out with his family. He had no place to turn. The pastor of the church I attend is the chaplain for the Garner Police Department. Garner PD has officers at the school and there was a relationship being built through the high school administration, as well.

Garner High School is full of crime, drugs, and gang activity. The school population is more than some Johnston County towns. There are a lot of at risk students there, and Paul was one of them, well known as such to the school's resource police presence.

The pastor and one member of the congregation met with Paul that night and hooked him up with a hotel room for the night as well as intervention with his family for living arrangements. There are a lot of details to which I am not privy, and other details that I do know and would take up more space to relay than I have.

The pastor of the church dealt with the school to help ensure that Paul would not be just another statistic. Paul did not want to be a stereotype and wanted to make something of his life. Unfortunately, Paul had no motivation to succeed. He was an intelligent guy, but he was mentally and physically lazy. There is no good way of saying it, and I know that he would agree.

Different men of the church took Paul "under their wings" and hounded him to get to school and graduate. Despite their assistance, Paul had already missed well above the allowed absence limit by something like 20 days. At the behest of the pastor, the school administration agreed not to force Paul to repeat his senior year of school and waive the issue if Paul would pass his final exams.

Even with that waiver, Paul failed one final exam and was going to fail for the year. With pleading, prayer, negotiations, Paul was allowed to repeat the one literature class he failed during the summer session. The favor of God was with my friend Paul. He eventually passed that class after much cajoling and pressure by the pastor and others to actually show up to class and study. His discipline was just not there on his own to succeed.

Paul then became a lot more involved with the church fellowship. Different men who owned businesses allowed Paul to work with them and even transported him to work a job he managed to get. Paul even helped do some work on my home here in Selma. He came to church on a regular basis and even to men's prayer meetings. He was getting Godly male advice and love for the first time in his life, apparently.

When deciding what to do with his life, Paul said that he wanted to become a Marine. There was one problem. Paul was not exactly tiny at 260 pounds. Paul started to get motivated towards a goal for possibly the first time in his life. He started exercising, dieting, and working to lose the necessary weight to enlist. His recruiter worked out a weight waiver for him if he got down to 205 pounds. Eventually, Paul was able to ship off for Marine Corps boot camp.

This past Friday, I had the distinct honor of traveling with a group of men, including the church's pastor, to Parris Island to see Paul graduate along with almost 600 other Marines. He had changed his attitude, prepared himself for the rigors of Marine Corps training, and mostly had to deal with the physical challenges of being porky by Marine standards.

I was amazed at how Paul had gotten down to a svelte 185 pounds, was a lean fighting machine, and had a lot more confidence in his communications. Now this obstinate, lazy Puerto Rican boy who squeaked through high school by the skin of his teeth has become a man of honor and discipline, and is on his way to a military career in computer networking.

It never ceases to amaze me how prayer, persistence, God's grace, and the love of God shown through His servants can help transform a life. I am proud of Paul, as well as the men with whom I am associated in their pursuit of one of God's lost sheep. Oh, that I had many more such stories to tell.

Column for April 2, 2009

My family and I just returned from a long weekend getaway. I have been thinking all weekend about what to include for this week's column. I keep a list of things on a notepad from which I can draw for ideas. Other times, like last week, I find an issue I can jump on immediately.

This weekend, I was struck by several things. I will not call them epiphanies, since they are nothing new to me. However, they sure reinforced my ideals.

We went to the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia to do some cavern exploring. I have been there before, but my wife and six year old have never been there. I knew what to expect in the caverns, and chose to visit Luray Caverns, their car and caravan museum, Endless Caverns, and on the way home, Monticello.

I was awestruck the first time I ever visited Luray. The magnificent rock formations, the immense caverns, the beautiful colors all were incredible to behold. The site was certainly very commercialized, with gift shops, brick paved walkways throughout the caverns, DVD videos of the area, books, shirts, and every sort of "touristy" trinkets you can imagine.

Endless Caverns, on the other hand, is very "mom and pop" style. The caverns go on further than Luray, but are less spectacular than Luray's caverns. They are not as clean and developed as Luray, but still beautiful.

What stuck me was the sheer magnitude and beauty of the two caverns. I realize that I was not asked to write a column on religion. However, I do want to take the time to relay how pensive such a visit, even for the second time, truly makes me. I ponder how big God is, how he created the earth, and how he is a magnificent artist. These caverns may never have been discovered, and yet the majesty would still be there underground. They would still be displaying His majesty even if us mere humans never were able to see His handy work.

I was amazed at the contrast between those caverns and Dinosaur Land. Hey, we had a six year old with us, so we had to do some kid friendly stuff, too. Though he was amazed at the caverns, he was not as excited at the prospects of visiting the Museum of United States Presidents as I was.

Dinosaur Land was basically wood framed structures covered with chicken wire and plaster. They depicted different dinosaurs. Just as at the caverns, there were descriptions of millions of years of time and evolution. I have to admit, I used to believe that garbage, but have been persuaded to be a believer in Creation Science and have long ago discarded such drivel.

Anyway, the attempt of someone to turn their backyard into a tourist attraction was just so dim in contrast to the glory of gorgeous caverns. I almost felt that way about Monticello, as well.

The more I read, the less that I am a fan of Thomas Jefferson. I have developed a greater respect for John Adams and less esteem for Jefferson. Anyway, that is entirely a different discussion for a different day. The bookstore at Monticello was phenomenal and I was able to add to my library of historical books. I just had to be temperate in my purchasing, because I found dozens of books I wanted to acquire.

I was struck by the undertaking of the estate and the manpower necessary to build that facility on a mountaintop over 200 years ago. It was completed 200 years ago this year. I have seen greater homes than Jefferson's Monticello, but for a 1700's plantation home, it was still beautiful.

Both Dinosaur Land and Monticello paled in comparison to the magnificence of God's creation as seen in the caverns. I was reminded that no matter how great man's accomplishments are, God's are greater. When magnificent homes are built for the world to see, God still displays his splendor even though it was hidden for thousands of years.

At one time, Monticello had fallen into disrepair and had to be restored. The caverns have only been getting more spectacular as time passes, as long as man did not intervene and break off stalactites (as was the case in the caverns. The practice was once encouraged out of greed so that the proprietors could charge by the pound for stalactite souvenirs.) One way or another, the rocks did cry out the glory of God.

Yes, I know that this is not a normal column, but I am not ashamed to declare the glory of my God and King.