A Significant Contribution
Posted Monday April 24, 2006 by Martin
Sometimes I find it difficult to listen to people boast about their children. I hope that doesn’t come into play for you because I’m about to do it myself. My oldest daughter will soon be participating at the state level of the Optimist International Oratorical Contest. She won the local and zone level contests over the past few weeks. I attended the contest and was truly surprised (maybe I shouldn’t have been) at the ability of these young people to not only compose, but deliver such quality material. The question they had to answer was “My future is bright because …”.
Several years ago, Kylie and I watched “The Emperors Club”, a fine movie starring Kevin kline. Kylie and I were both moved by the film and the main quote has stuck with both of us. Kylie’s speech uses that quote but other than that, is 100% original material. All I provided her with was the movie rental.
What a treat and a blessing it is to have such a bright child who cares to learn. I’ve copied the text of her speech here if you’d like to read it. It explains this better than I can and you might find it rekindles hope for our future when you see the drive in this young lady. Her and the young people she hangs out with just might be changing the world someday.
Kylie, there’s not a dad in the world who thinks more of his daughter than I …well done.
Here’s the speech, you might be suprised to know that she delivers this from memory with no notes at all - way cool.
Kylie
White Station High School
“Great ambition and conquest without contribution is without significance.” In the opening scenes of the movie The Emperor’s Club, Mr. Hundert, played by Kevin Kline, shares this small bit of wisdom with his class. He has just told his students the story of Shutruk Nahunte, a King of Elam. But he is a king whose name is found in no history book. Why? Because in his role as king, he did nothing of profound contribution for his country or his world. Mr. Hundert then asks why we remember those as Plato, Aristotle, and Julius Caesar. Why are they so important? Because they still challenge us to question what we are told and force us to learn more about the world around us. They force us to think. Mr. Hundert challenged his students to learn from these men’s triumphs and defeats. He challenged them to make a difference. He challenged them to be remembered.
In our society today, the standard has been lowered. Through the media and peer pressure, students today have been told that high school is a social experience, and academics are no longer top priority. Being voted Homecoming Queen or scoring the final points in the championship basketball game seem more important than making the honor roll or receiving a scholarship to college. Then there is the polar opposite: those who decide that school and grades are so unimportant that they are not even going to try. They would like to say that their grades reflect a lack of intelligence and that they do not do well because they do not understand. But that is only because it is not in vogue to understand. Many are truly full of bright ideas and opinions, but think that they would be tormented and teased for their desire to be heard. So by keeping their hearts silent, they do not have to worry and are pushed in higher esteem amongst their groups of friends.
Some would disagree with this. They would say they I am exaggerating, and things really aren’t that awful. But I challenge anyone to spend a day in the average American high school. During class periods, it is not uncommon to find large groups of students standing in the hallway who have decided that they do not feel like attending class that particular day. Or you may discover those who find class to be boring and dull and spend the entire period conversing with their friend or taking a “well-deserved” nap. During the transition between classes, the hallways are chaos, full of vulgar language and bullying. There is blatant disrespect for teachers and administration and no fear of consequences.
But there is still a handful of students who care. We are the minority, full of desire and willingness to work. Our insatiable need to learn is intimidating and unacceptable to those around us, because they see our eagerness to stand out from our peers to be foreign and confusing. But there is little fear in being taunted by others for this thirst for knowledge. The reward of being able to pass through school with no regrets and fully believing that I did my best is more rewarding than any crown, trophy, or popularity contest that I could ever win.
My future is bright because I choose to learn. I refuse to put my thoughts and ideas on hold just for the sake of being accepted. I have drive and ambition, and do more than just wish that the world were different. I strive to make the difference. I do more than just choose to be remembered; I demand it. I have set my heart on changing the world, and I see nothing stopping me from doing just that.
In many countries, citizens are not given the option of being educated. Children must spend their whole lives working in order to support themselves and their families. But here in America, we are provided with amazing opportunities and most of us take for granted the privileges that we are offered. But with those privileges comes a choice. One can choose to be accepted, or once can choose to rise above the crowd. In the end, we should all ask ourselves the same questions Mr. Hundert demanded of his students. “What will your contribution be? How will history remember you?”
My future is bright because I have answered these questions, and I know that for me to be able to make this earth a better place, I must spend as much time learning as possible, regardless of what those around me think.
Too Many Boots …
Posted Sunday March 19, 2006 by Martin
After much thought and prayer, I took my children to see the “Eyes Wide Open” exhibit in Memphis this weekend. “Eyes Wide Open” is the American Friends Service Committee’s widely acclaimed exhibition on the human cost of the Iraq war and commemorates all the lives lost. The display is very simple - boots and shoes. When the exhibit started, it travelled with one pair of boots to represent each soldier lost in the conflict in Iraq. Now the number is too large making it impractical to display. When I saw the exhibit in Memphis there were 390 pairs of boots representing the part time men and women lost from our National Guard and Reserve forces in Iraq. There is also a display of civilian shoes representing the civilian lives lost in the conflict.
Frankly, I was a little concerned about how this somber and sobering display might affect my children that day. I came to the conclusion that I was more concerned about how being a non-thinking adult citizen of our country might affect them forever. Whether you agree or disagree with this war, the cost is real. I spoke with my children before we arrived at EWO and told them that Jesus told us to count the cost (Luke 14:25-34) of our actions. I also told them that whether or not you supported this war, you must support the troops that carry it out. To those of you that think that can’t be done - watch me. I have many friends that are members of our military and I support each and every one of them as well as all the ones I don’t know. These folks signed on and made a commitment to carry out their orders. My unwavering support of every single soldier is not dependent on me deciding whether the commander in chief issued the right orders.
I explained to my kids that if they consider all the facts pertaining to this war and arrive at a different conclusion than I do, I’d respect that - as I would the opinion of anyone else in this country who thinks. My problem is that too many folks are along for the ride and not thinking at all. Believing what you hear on television doesn’t count for thinking for yourself. I find it interesting that 18,000 people will stand and applaud for a returning soldier and his family at a NBA game (as well they should - and I did), but 10 of them won’t come to EWO to pay their respects to the dead.
The exhibit itself is very powerful and moving. It’s hard to stand amongst those boots and not picture a room full of 400 live people. Each pair of boots is tagged with the name and rank of a dead soldier along with their age and where they were from. I walked around the room for a bit and prayed for each of the people represented there as well as their families. I also found myself praying for my country and it’s leaders.
As I roamed the room I couldn’t stop looking at the faces of my children, as they were clearly touched by what they saw. My oldest has a “boyfriend” (she’s too young to really date) whose father is fighting in the Army as I write this. My middle child just looked stunned and sad. The one I had the toughest time with was my son. He’s old enough to understand death but too young to understand politics. It looked as though he felt compelled to read the name on every name-tag in the room. As he walked among the boots I couldn’t help thinking about how I might feel as little as eight years from now if he were off fighting this war. I assure you that I’d be proud if he served and even understand if he gave his life for his country. I wouldn’t however, feel good about him laying it all down for an unjust war. How many of the folks represented by the boots I saw have parents who wonder if the cause was worth the sacrifice? The image of my son standing among those boots was very moving and caused me to think about things I’ve never really considered. I wonder if the creators of the exhibit even thought about having a son stand in a sea of boots while his father considered what that represented. I had the luxury of walking out with my son while the rest of the sons and daughters in that room lay in rest never to walk with their earthly father again.
As we prepared to leave I asked each of my children what they thought about EWO. My oldest daughter was without words. My son remarked about how sad it was. But my middle child summed it up better that I could ever do it. With a tear in her eye she said “It’s too many boots dad …”
Here Comes The Sun
Posted Wednesday June 29, 2005 by Martin
One of the few good things…scratch that…the only good thing about flying eastbound on a 3:30am trip is that you get to see the sun rise.
I saw the sun come up this morning. I mean I really saw the sun come up. I’m talking about the first hint of light followed by an incredible deep purple that then turned to orange that eventually lit up the morning sky. What an awesome sight if you really give it a look instead of sitting there half asleep wishing you were somewhere else.
Only God can create a sunrise like the one I saw this morning. The colors aren’t random and the light is no mistake. The sun coming up in the morning must be part of the grand design and it is the most reliable thing I can think of.
I’ve been falling into a funk lately and I don’t like how it feels. I want so bad to believe that the colors in that sunrise represent some of the goodness that I can’t seem to see in life. I want to believe that the reliable light of the sun is the same as the reliable light of Christ that I can count on each day to brighten up the darkness.
Annie believed it, why shouldn’t I?
On Death and Dying
Posted Wednesday June 29, 2005 by Martin
I told myself when I started this blog that I would be honest with myself as I wrote entries. That may seem trivial to you but I sometimes feel a real need to communicate what’s inside my head and most of the time don’t feel comfortable sharing it with others. Why I don’t feel right doing that is probably a subject to be dealt with someday but not today. So, with a little luck, the characters that flow onto this page are somewhat of a popcorn trail back to the inside of my head. Follow them and you might see why I sometimes feel like I’m nuts.
I’m sitting here wondering which blog entry I want to write today. I now realize that three of the ones in my head are related to someone dying. I’m not really one who focuses on death but for some reason in my life lately, people are checking out and I don’t like it.
So instead of writing about the individuals (which I might do later), I’ll write about my thoughts on the overall issue.
Death sucks.
Well, I certainly feel better for having expressed my thoughts so clearly…. O.K., I’ll offer a bit more detail.
As a Christian man, I feel like death isn’t supposed to be a bad deal. The Bible tells me that Jesus has a room in a mansion prepared just for me. By the way, mine has a nice sized T.V. with non stop baseball on it as well as a killer stereo with non stop smooth jazz and classical stations. My wife will be there too, we just don’t know who’s getting there first. If the mansion and my Savior are waiting for me then why the big headache with death? I guess I don’t know and maybe that’s what frustrates me so.
In the early 80’s while I was finishing high school I worked in a funeral home. I drove the hearse and picked up bodies around town from nursing homes and hospitals. I also moved flowers around and set up rooms for the next days’ services. But the challenging part of my job was to be the doorman. The place I worked was a big funeral home so we almost always had several families there at once. I caught folks at the door and steered them to the right room. Why was this challenging? All those people had to leave too. And when they did they were frequently overcome with grief. It really used to bother me to watch people in such pain. And I’ll bet many of them were Christian people who knew that their loved one was “at a better place”. Better place or not, these folks were hurting.
I lost one of my best friends in a plane crash at an airshow in 1987. That was the first time I got really mad at God and I’m not proud to report that I’m still a little honked off about the whole deal. I’ve heard all the stuff about “he’s in a better place” and “God wanted him there with Him”. That’s all fine and dandy but why did God want Jim’s wife to watch him die? Why did God want me to lose a friend and a mentor?
After that loss it was suggested to me that I read a book called “On Death And Dying”, I think it was written by Elizabeth Kubler Ross but I can’t remember. The book didn’t offer much help at all to a young man trying to figure it out. I’ve just decided that death stinks for those of us left behind and if that’s a selfish thought then so be it. I’m tired of people around me checking out and I’ve accepted the fact that I will never be good at getting over it.
I’ve been told that I won’t have any questions when I get to heaven but I don’t believe that. I want to know why good people die young and why we’re wired for it to hurt.
This entry didn’t turn out as I wanted it too but I feel a little better for having vented.
Life’s Too Short
Posted Saturday June 11, 2005 by Martin
Boarding a passenger airplane is always a bit frustrating for me. Everyone seems to be in such a hurry to get to their seat so that they can sit and wait for twenty minutes, I guess I don’t get it. When I got on the airplane that I’m on as I write this, there was a lady getting her young daughters situated and they were blocking the aisle. The gentleman in front of me was growing very impatient with the process and didn’t try to hide it. Finally the girls were settled in and the overhead bins were stuffed appropriately so we moved on. As I passed the mother she apologized and I responded that I thought life was too short to be in a hurry.
I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes now thinking about what I told her. I’ve noticed lately that I’ve been aware of my aging more than usual. I’m not really sure why I’m thinking about it but I’ve grown somewhat fascinated with the endless number of ways that my chronological advancement keeps popping up. Let me give you a some examples.
Very few major league baseball teams play in the stadiums they did when I was a boy watching baseball so I guess that means I’ve outlived some professional sports venues.
Most of the kids at the latest Star Wars movie weren’t alive when I experienced the original with my dad.
My mother told me last night about a young lady at their church who has three children - I used to be that young lady’s baby sitter.
The first car I ever owned can now be registered as an antique in most states.
The bands advertised on the casino billboards are all bands I listened to as a teenager and the billboard pictures look like ads for a new nursing home.
I recently went to my little girls’ eighth grade graduation ceremony and it finally set in that she wasn’t a little girl anymore.
I recently chaperoned an eighth grade field trip out of town. As the bus sped down the highway it suddenly dawned on me that I was actually supposed to be the responsible adult. Most of my friends would say that was letting the wolf guard the hen house but I did my best.
The airplane I fly is referred to as a tired old workhorse and if you look at the registration, the airplane and I were born the same year.
But here’s the one that got my attention. My daughter had her first “boyfriend” this year at school. I use that term loosely because she is only 14. However, emotions do run strong at 14 (I’m not too old to remember that) and this guy is a good young man. A couple of weeks ago when school finished for the year this young man and his family moved to Virginia and my little girl was very sad. We had a going away party at our place with the whole gang from school and the kids had a lot of fun. But when the party was over I went to talk to my daughter and she curled up in my lap and cried. Big, sad tears from a young heart being broken. I spent a few minutes letting her know that life was full of moments where good people leave us. Sometimes to leave the state and sometimes to go home to Jesus. I told her that hard as it was, this was a good life lesson and that it wouldn’t hurt as much next time because she’ll have some perspective - she’ll know that the pain doesn’t last forever.
She’s doing well now and I’m sure she’ll be fine. I’ve been thinking about that moment for a couple of weeks. All I keep coming up with is “Oh my - I’m the adult here”. I can’t be old enough to be the adult. What kind of world would let someone like me have that kind of responsibility? It seems to be a responsibility that comes with age and I seem to be having more age lately than I like to think about. I don’t want to be old. Trying to figure out why it bothers me is a challenge. I’m not afraid to die really, I’m not in a hurry mind you, I’m just not afraid. I think the reason I don’t want to be old is that I’m enjoying the ride and don’t want to get off. I love spending time with my wife and my kids so I don’t like to think about that ending. There’s a million places I want to see before I check out too.
I’ll quit rambling here. I really don’t sit around worrying about this, I’ve just noticed lately that life moves faster and faster. I think I’ll keep trying to take the time to soak in most of it. Life’s too short to be in a hurry.
That’s The Last You’ll See Of Me
Posted Monday January 24, 2005 by Martin
That’s it. I’m mad at myself now and that usually motivates me. I’m tired of being fat. I lost 30 pounds a few years ago and have kept most of it off but I’m tired of being overweight. So here is my public statement that I’m going to do something about it. O.K ….it’s not very public because I think there’s only three people that actually read my blog, but you get the idea. If I say it here I’m really just being honest with myself.
I suddenly realized that food feels a lot like nicotine used to feel. I got over my smoking addiction through the power of prayer so that’s the tack I’m going to take now. I’m going to sit around and pray and the weight will fall off. Just kidding …I guess I’ll have to make some effort won’t I?
I now announce that I am on my new eating plan (which is primarily Weight Watchers) until the first digit of my weight starts with a one. I’ll evaluate after that. I’m not kidding here, mark my words, I’m doin’ it.
Seriously now, please pray for me everyday as I apparently am more addicted to food than I thought. I vow to eat right and exercise at least three times a week. Your prayes are appreciated.
This is the last you’ll see of me in my current state. From now on you’ll see less of me everytime we bump in to each other.
A slice of sky and a piece of ground.
Posted Sunday January 23, 2005 by Martin
Descending through 9,000 feet just west of Fort Wayne Indiana the other night I saw something interesting. I saw a Cessna 152 heading west with a teenage pilot flying solo. It looked like the young gent was a little apprehensive about where he was and what he was doing. I can just hear his thoughts….”Am I really on course?” “Was that really my last checkpoint I passed or was I just hoping it was the right place?” “What will I do if Kankakee isn’t there when 25 more minutes go by?”
I know what that kid was thinking because that kid is me. That slice of sky has been there since I did that student cross country flight just like it was for years before I ever flew through it. I found it a bit sentimental to fly as a professional through the airspace I learned to fly in. Back then I used to only wish and dream that I could really be an airline pilot. Now as a crew member on a 727 that dream has come true. This may seem strange to you that I wax so poetic about my vocation. But for those of you that fly airplanes, you understand that for most if us it’s truly a passion, not just a profession. I’m quite fond of my memories of learning to fly. I still stay in touch with the patient man that taught me to fly in 1982.
Cleared for the approach into Fort Wayne and there he is again. Sweating bullets and discovering foxhole Christianity the young aviator is doing his first solo flight. Three laps around the pattern doing touch and go’s. “Am I really ready for this?” “Could Ted’s judgment be a little flawed?” I guess I was ready to solo since I lived to tell about it.
We land on runway 23 and taxi in to the gate. That runway is really just a piece of ground. Many, many airplanes have come and gone on that runway since I soloed there on December 31st, 1982. But that piece of ground still waits for me to come back and touch down again. I hope that piece of ground is there for me to land on for years to come because like a good song, it has the ability to help me dig deep in my memory and live those moments again like it was the first time.
Thanks for indulging me in my reminiscing.
I’ll Be Seeing You …
Posted Sunday January 23, 2005 by Martin
I’m a little melancholy today. I’m sad because of the news that Johnny Carson has passed away. People that know me might be surprised to know that Johnny Carson meant that much to me. I think there are several reasons that I liked Johnny.
One of the reasons I always like Johnny was that he was a fantastic comedian. I don’t know that anyone has ever had the timing that he did. I used to plead with my parents to let me stay up and watch the monologue. I knew there was no way they’d let me stay up for the whole hour, but occasionally I’d get to watch that brilliant monologue. I really wanted to be a stand up comic when I grew up and watching Johnny Carson deliver jokes was watching the master at work.
Another reason I liked Johnny was that he was timeless. Johnny came on the tonight show in 1962 and lasted until 1992. What a run for someone on television, especially a daily show. No one lasts that long in that business. Johnny was just as funny 30 years later as he was in the beginning. During my childhood and especially teenage years when things seemed chaotic, I could always count on Carson being on. I think Johnny Carson was one of the good guys of show business, not perfect, but a good guy.
The most important thing that makes me fond of Johnny Carson came on his last show. As he signed off for the last time he said “I’m the luckiest man in the world. I found something I always wanted to do, and enjoyed every single minute of it”. At the very time I heard Carson say that, I was contemplating a career adjustment. My flying career seemed to be flailing as the airlines were all laying off pilots and I thought maybe I should do something else. I heard Johnny Carson say those words and realized that I would not be happy if I wasn’t doing something I loved. Who would have thought that one of my biggest inspirations would be a stand up comic from Nebraska.
From what I’ve read, I think I’ll get to see Mr. Carson on the other side. I’ll bet he’s up there wondering why we’re making such a fuss.
Mr. Carson, as the words of your favorite song go “I’ll Be Seeing You” ….
A Wave of Despair … and Hope
Posted Saturday January 15, 2005 by Martin
I’m sitting in a hotel room in Appleton Wisconsin where it’s 20 below wind chill watching the Tsunami Aid concert on TV.
Read on... · Feel free to comment
Christmas Delivered With Some TLC
Posted Tuesday December 21, 2004 by Martin
This is really a follow up to my previous entry, Christmas Time In The City. The Emmanuel Center Christmas party was yesterday and it was phenomenal. I don’t really know where to start. Many members of TLC Community church went to the inner city in Memphis and put on a Christmas party for 45 kids and some of their parents. We started with some fun music from our band made up of some TLC folks. It sure looked like everyone enjoyed the music. Then is was time to eat. We had a kitchen full of people that began preparing the food a few hours before the party and I kept thinking “if the smell is any indication of what it tastes like, we’re in for a treat”. Well it was great food that was enjoyed by all 120 people there. I heard comments from young and old alike that the food was perfect. We watched those children look at the pile of gifts for two hours and it was finally time to pass them out. I couldn’t begin to describe the smiles on faces that we watched over and over. I also saw joy in the eyes of parents whose youngsters had been blessed by the generosity of these folks from TLC. The party was a total success.
The comments about the party could stop there and it would be good. But let me tell you some more of what I think about this event.
First of all, there were upwards of sixty people there from a church that is only a couple of years old. I’ve been in many churches where two percent of the people do ninety-eight percent of the work-not here. When I first came to this church about a year ago I heard our pastor preach about how this was a church that got out and served the community instead of just writing checks. I don’t want to sound like I was a skeptic but hey…I was a skeptic. Well, praise God - I’m a skeptic no more. I had already learned over the last year that these folks were serious, but yesterday I saw my friends from TLC put their “shoe leather” where their mouth is and it was cool. God will bless this church if we continue to do what we did yesterday.
The music at the party was superb. I tell you this because I really had no idea what these guys would play, I just knew it would be good. Here’s the cool thing, all I had to do was tell them what time we needed them and they took the ball and ran with it. It was such a blessing to be able to just hand this part of the project off and know that it would be done. Great work Tim (and company), you guys are the best!
Speaking of people you can rely on, the kitchen crew was amazing. Suzy, Anita and the rest of the group cooked up a meal that was home cooking for 120 people. You need to understand something here and that is that many of the people that enjoyed that meal don’t know where their next one is going to come from. This is a poor community and for some of these folks putting food on the table is a daily struggle. No one has ever shown up and cooked a Christmas dinner there and many of the adults were very touched by the effort put forth by the kitchen crew. Suzy Owens, you have a God given gift for delivering hospitality and He was smiling at you yesterday for using it.
I must give praise here for the youth of our church. I’m not sure they really understood exactly what we were going to do when they showed up. There were almost thirty kids there that all worked very hard all afternoon. Some of the kids set up the sound equipment and others helped set up the room. But the most amazing thing was watching the kids serve dinner. You can accuse me of waxing poetic here but I’m telling you that there is something very powerful about watching the affluent kids from the suburbs serving the folks in the inner city that don’t have much. Something tells me that more than a few of those kids went home with a different perspective this Christmas. Thanks to Tim Hill for organizing the kids efforts on a moments notice.
By the way, there’s a danger in mentioning names in an article like this in that I might forget someone. There’s no way I could thank everyone that helped, I’m just pointing out a few key people that I personally saw stepping up. All of you were special yesterday. Since it’s my blog I guess I can brag on my kids. Kylie, Elizabeth and J.R. worked from start to finish yesterday. I’ve never been more proud of you guys-you’re as good as they come.
The generosity shown by the TLC family at gift giving time was tremendous. We adopted 45 kids at the center and all of them received multiple gifts. There were bikes and CD players as well as some nice clothes and games. I watched the faces of some of the mothers in the crowd as the kids opened their gifts and I saw a few tears. You see, many of these children will get very little and in some cases nothing at all under the tree. How special do you suppose we made some parents feel when we were able to fill in the gap this Christmas?
My last entry explained why I think this party is important so I won’t rehash that. But I do want to say that it was clear to me that we were sharing the love of Christ yesterday. I spoke with many people at the Emmanuel center that told me this was the best Christmas party they’ve ever seen there. One the mothers stood with me and watched as the meal was served. She was commenting on how nice the food was and that the folks serving it were doing such a nice thing. Then she got quiet, I looked over at her and saw tears in her eyes as she looked around the room and said “now this is Christmas”.
Christmas Time In The City
Posted Friday December 17, 2004 by Martin
It’s Christmas time in the city. I’ve always been fond of the lyrics to this classic Christmas tune. When I hear it I always have visions of a beautifully decorated cityscape with one of those horse drawn sleighs carrying some smiling people around for a ride in the snow. I’ve been reminded this season that Christmas time in the city is not always this way.
This Sunday some kind folks from my church, The Love of Christ Community Church in Memphis, will be putting on a Christmas party for some kids in a housing project in Memphis. We’re going to have our band play some great music, then share the Gospel and follow it up with dinner. After the meal we’ll break out the gifts that the TLC folks bought for the 45 children we adopted from the program. I think this party is going to be a blessing for the folks that receive the gifts but maybe even more for the people that give them. You see most of the people giving the gifts are from affluent neighborhoods on the east side of town. We hear about the residents of the poorest sections of the city but rarely have an opportunity to go there and meet them. I think it’s going to be a blessing because it’s going to be a perspective adjustment that may serve to make us much more thankful for what we have, and I’m not just speaking about material things.
I went to the Emmanuel Episcopal Center (where the party is going to be) yesterday to work out some of the last minute logistics and was there for about an hour. I left there a changed man. I’ve been to the center many times before but this was the week before Christmas and the place was very busy. Because it was so busy I spent much of my time waiting in the office of the director of the center as he fielded phone calls and spoke with visitors to his office. Colenzo Hubbard founded and runs the center. He is an Episcopal priest and one of the most Godly men I have ever met. I told him I wasn’t in a hurry and wanted him to help the folks that stopped by. Here’s just a little bit of what I saw in one hour there.
As I entered Colenzo’s office he was on the phone with someone who had no heat in their house because their gas had been turned off and it was going to be below freezing that night. Colenzo counseled the caller on what to speak with the utility company about and told him to call back to let him know how it went.
Then we talked about one of the residents of the neighborhood who was murdered the other day. A young man of 24 with three young children.
Another phone call to work out the details of next weeks’ food delivery to the elderly in the area. My wife and I used to deliver “meals on wheels” so I had a mental picture of this program - wrong. This was not “let’s deliver a special holiday meal” so they can have a better meal than usual. These meals were going to people that many days have no money to buy any food at all. Colenzo explained to me that some of these people take medicine that’s supposed to be taken with a meal but have no meal to take it with.
I’m still in Colenzo’s office and in walks a young lady who looks very upset. We’re introduced and I find out that this is the fiance of the young man that was murdered. I was stunned. I hear stories on the news regularly (sadly) in Memphis but here I was sitting in the room with one of those stories, this was a very different view. After Colenzo and this young lady spoke, Colenzo asked me to join with them in prayer and I listened to this woman sob.
These peoples’ Christmas and mine are very different. I told Colenzo that I was so amazed that he could continue to do this work year after year and he said it’s not hard if God calls you to it. This is a ministry that deals with people in crisis. There are no “normal” days in these people’s lives. Crisis is the norm.
The focus of the Emmanuel Center’s ministry is “Sharing the Love of Christ in Word and Deed”. The center aims to not just feed and clothe the poor but to break the cycle of poverty that has plagued many of these families for four generations. I believe that only God can affect that kind of change and you can watch Him do it at the Emmanuel Center. From the youngest children’s program to the adult ministry, God is the focus of the solution. Fortunately there are many success stories after 13 years of operating in that community.
Christmas time in the city. I’m worried about whether I have the right batteries for the gifts I bought for my kids. The folks in the other part of the city are worried about having heat. Do I cook ham or turkey for Christmas dinner? They may be looking for any meal at all.
I’m so thankful that God is God and I’m not. If I didn’t know him, who would have made sure that my perspective was adjusted correctly this Christmas season? But more importantly than that, what hope would the people in this housing project have? What a privilege it will be on Sunday to go and serve these folks with the hope that they will see just a glimpse of Jesus in us as we share the love of Christ by serving those less fortunate. I’m remembering that, dealt a different hand, I could have been (and still could be) one of the folks I’m going to serve.
It’s Christmas time in the city and the “haves” and the “have nots” all need Jesus. The miraculous birth of our Savior is the source of hope for both sides of town.
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Little Me
Posted Tuesday December 14, 2004 by Martin
Last night I had the coolest view you could ask for. I watched the Geminid meteor shower from a cockpit at 31,000 feet. What an amazing thing to watch. For about an hour we saw as many as 3 or 4 “shooting stars” a minute. This was an awe inspiring thing to see and it had an almost eerie look to it.
Events like these always seem to have the ability to remind me how small I am in the big picture. Standing at the foot of the mountains in Alaska, out on the ocean on a cruise ship or watching the meteor shower, I feel small. That’s a good thing, feeling small, because I am. No matter what I accomplish in this world, I’m still a tiny piece of it and I think it’s good to keep that in perspective.
I guess meteors are good for that.
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I’m Back (I hope)
Posted Tuesday December 14, 2004 by Martin
Writing entries for this blog is something I really would like to do more of but every time I think I’ll have time to do it I don’t. Well now I think I finally have my time managed well enough that I’ll get to make entries on a regular basis. Keep your fingers crossed.
If He Only Knew
Posted Sunday May 25, 2003 by Martin
Today was a big day for my son and I. We started the day with a family trip to the ballpark planned. We go to all the Memphis Redbirds home games on Sunday afternoons. It turns out that today my girls were sick with the flu so J.R. and I went alone. Since it was just the two of us, I thought I'd spring for more expensive seats. While waiting in line for tickets a man walked up and asked if I needed two seats. I told him yes and he proceeded to give me two club seats right behind home plate and wouldn't take any money for them. He told me that the best way to pay him was for my son and I to have a great afternoon together at the ball-game.
The game was a good one (1 to 1) for most of the game. We had ice cream and peanuts. We ran into the mascot on the way to the concession stand and J.R. was thrilled to shake a hand. It was really fun for me to answer his questions about the game. In my youth I had quite a passion for the game and some of that still lives. But the big moment came in the 7th inning when one of the Redbirds hit a foul ball right over our heads. I immediately felt the thrill of maybe catching a ball for my son. This is a key point because in all the games I've ever gone to I have never caught a foul ball or home run. I have always wanted to get one - for me. But here I was watching this ball bounce on the roof and in the rafters hoping that I could get it for J.R.. As luck (or Divine appointment) would have it, I caught the ball with a move suitable for the play of the day tapes. I handed the ball to J.R. and by the look on his face you'd think I'd given him a million dollars. I've never seen him so thrilled. Words cannot express the feeling that I had giving him that ball - the one I never got.
On the way home J.R. asked how many times I had caught a ball like that. When I told him how that was the first he asked why I gave it to him. I told him that it was way better for me for him to have it. I told him he wouldn't understand that until he had a son of his own. I thought about that the rest of the way home.
In 1990 my dad took me to game two of the World Series. I'll never forget it as long as I live. It was one of those great father-son moments that are so powerful. The Reds won in the bottom of the 10th and went on to win the series. I have never had words to tell my father how much being at that game meant to me. It wasn't the ball-game, it was the time.
I'll bet when J.R. grows up the baseball we got today will be in a box somewhere stashed away. But I hope he will remember the time, I certainly will. Today was a big moment for me in that I now have a little insight into what my dad might have been thinking at the ball-game 13 years ago. On one hand I hate thinking I'm old enough to be thinking like my dad. On the other hand I'm glad to have some understanding from the other perspective.
Thanks dad. Thanks J.R. And maybe even thanks Alexander Joy Cartwright.
Of Loft-beds and Worship
Posted Monday March 31, 2003 by Martin
I recently built Kylie (my Daughter) a loft-bed for her room. Her room isn’t real big so the idea of having her bed up high and space underneath it for other things really made her excited. To tell you the truth, I was surprised at how excited she was about the project. The overall plan also included her mother painting the room and adding a very cool hand painted border.
I began the project in the garage as I designed (kind of as I went) the bed and started the construction. I cut and assembled a few pieces while Kylie was away and when she came home she saw that I had finally begun and thanked me for it. Although I think that my 12 year old is pretty cool, 12 year olds in general are not always up for being real appreciative of what their parents do.
An interesting thing happened over the next four days (remember, I’m an airline pilot - it takes me awhile to build a bed) in that every time I turned around, Kylie was praising me for my work. I got lots of hugs and kudos for a job well done. She told me that she knew I could have been doing other things instead and thanked me for taking the time to work on her project. It made me feel good while I was pouring blood and sweat into this thing to have her telling me thank you - it made me feel really good.
I’ve always found that looking at Jesus in a “daddy” way has made it easier for me to understand His love (not that I’ll ever understand it but you get the point). It dawned on me during this loft-bed building that the way I felt receiving Kylie’s praises might be on a small scale analogous to how Jesus feels when I take time to praise and worship Him. Just as most kids don’t really thank their parents enough for hard work and sacrifice, I don’t thank my Savior enough for hard work and the ultimate sacrifice.
Participating in Worship has always been a real joy for me. I find myself most connected with the Lord while I’m singing His praises and worshiping Him. Guess what? I felt close to my daughter while I was working and she was “praising” me - what a concept.
I don’t really know how to finish this out. Suffice it to say that God was at work teaching me while I acted like a carpenter. Teaching me about another carpenter and how He feels when I tell Him thank you for taking the time when you could have been doing a hundred other things.
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Aspiring Thoughts
Posted Saturday February 8, 2003 by Martin
as.pi.ra.tion:
a strong desire to achieve something high or great
synonym: see AMBITION,
an ardent desire for rank, fame, or power
I’ve been thinking about aspirations lately. What do I aspire to be? Who do I aspire to be like? Is it better to have aspirations than ambitions?
It seems to me that based on the above Webster definition, it’s O.K. for me to aspire to achieve. I want to achieve things for God like share the Gospel, plant seeds with others, do good works. On the other hand, my understanding is that maybe ambition is for my good, not His.
I read recently about a blind beggar on the streets of Brazil. A Christian man that stopped to give the man some money decided to spend a few minutes with the gent and find out about him. It turns out that the 30ish man was blinded by an accident in his teens, lives with a family of seven brothers in a one room shack and begs for enough money to eat each day. I’m thinking that this guy is sure that he got dealt a bad hand, probably sits there all day and wonders why this didn’t happen to someone else. But I have those thoughts because I’m seeing this through my fogged up, shallow vision. You see, this man contends that the reason he got dealt the hand that he did is because God knew he could handle it. Guess what? He doesn’t sit looking sad on the streets and beg for money. He sings joyful songs all day long and people place their “payment” for his performance in his cup. Joyful songs because he knows that true joy has nothing to do with sights and material possessions. This man knows that joy comes from knowing God. “The joy of the Lord is my strength” - what an example.
That’s the guy I want to be. I’d rather go to my grave as a content beggar on the street than an overpaid airline pilot still looking for contentment and falling short of where God wants my heart. Can I combine the two lives? The most content people I know, or have heard of, have the least. Maybe it’s not who I aspire to be that matters, but the heart I aspire to have. I feel like I’m a long way off.
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