SLGG

“I grew up around here” ….said that the other day when I was in the training center in Atlanta.  “Grew up around here”…kinda struck me what an odd term that is.  I said it with a bit of pride, and with everything that it implied.  It imeant that I pronounce it “Atlanna”, that the Braves are on TV during the summer, Scattered-Smothered-Covered is a food, Peachtree Street is a direction, you can order in code at the Varsity, folks of different skin colors can get along just fine when they treat each other as people, and that high school sports really mean a lot to you.

If it seems like this is important and special to me, it is….but I also know that it isn’t necessarily special nor unique.  

My bride has the same feeling of pride when she says she grew up north of Boston…Fenway Park, the Harbor, Lobstah, the Cape, measuring snow at Copley Square, Candle Pin bowling (which my mother-in law delighted in beating me in), and “food stores” with “Chowda” aisles.

Our kids “grew up” in a place with salt air, marsh views, oyster roasts, easy living, stifling summer humidity, oak-tunnels with moss, uncompetitive sports, the nicest weatherman ever (Rob Fowler) and beach access anytime they wanted it.  It is a post-Pat Conroy damn near paradise.

Just in our family, 3 different reference points and foundations.  I think your “grow up” location, and the people and their attitude in it, set that foundation for you.  It doesn’t make who you are or determine the outcome of your life, but it does give you a reference point, and also a true north to always point to.  It gets in your soul.  

No place nor childhood is perfect, and to say “I’m from” somewhere means something entirely different than “I grew up” there.  Being from somewhere is just a geographic reference point, but when you “grow up” someplace, you are solidly entwined with the culture of a place.  It’s kinda like those cement trucks that you see barreling down the street…that cement inside that is being mixed around was created someplace else, and holds the material qualities of that place for eternity….only to be distributed in another spot by the mixer truck of time and life.  Wherever God puts you.  Carrera Marble is always Carrera Marble, no matter where it is installed, and I’ll always have pine trees and red clay in my soul. Being “from” someplace doesn’t hold that value, but when you “grow up” somewhere, it’s about 8 levels up from that. 

Right now, I think I’m seeing it more clearly because of the next 3 weeks for our family.  3 out of our 4 kids are about to go out into the world and experience something completely new.  Transformational years ahead for them all.  But my bet is they will tell people that they “grew up” in the Lowcountry, and our prayer is that foundation guides them through their days as a great reference  point throughout their lives.  And that these early days are set solid in their soul.

And because of how I “grew up”, there is no doubt that Georgia will always be on my mind.

People can be so easy to dislike. Guy who cuts you off in traffic, lady walking too slow in the middle of an airport concourse, telemarketers, scammers, and i won’t even get into politics….

But if you look, and really look hard, you can find that people, and the spirit that is within them, are actually amazing.

I was on a layover last week in San Francisco. Following my normal morning pattern, I was trying to walk as far as I could to see as much as I could before being confined inside a tube at altitude for the rest of the day.

San Francisco has really improved. Honestly! It still has a huge share of problems, but it is on the upswing. I left the hotel and did the best I could to attack the hills the cable cars were also climbing. They were beating me! And I was huffing and puffing too. Up and down Lombard Street and then headed towards Coit Tower for a great view of the city. On the way there, just west of the North Beach area, I passed by the “Joe DiMaggio North Beach playground”. It’s now a concrete floored open air park, with playground equipment, benches, and basketball hoops. And underneath the closest basketball hoop, I saw her. An elderly “Asian” woman shooting basketball hoops. She was covered in protective clothing neck down to ward off the sun, with gloves on, stood near 5 feet tall, and was relentlessly and hopelessly shooting at the basketball hoop.
The ball didn’t come within 2 feet vertically nor 2 feet laterally of the hoop, yet she was out there trying like hell. The lady had to have been in her mid to late 80s, but she was trying and it was fantastic to watch. She was not to be confined by age, ability, nor stereotype—but just out there getting exercise and trying. I wanted to stay and watch longer but thought that might be kinda creepy, particularly after I snapped a photo to remember the event.

Here was an “Asian” grandmother-type, in an amazing American city (named for an Italian Catholic Saint), shooting hoops (a game invented by a Georgia boy living in Massachusetts) at a playground named after one of the most famous American-Italian sports heroes of all time. It’s perfectly American…just a complete muddled up situation that could occur nowhere else but America. I heard it said that an American’s superpower is the ability for small talk with anyone. Our mixing pot diversity as a country allows us to relate to all sorts of different people. And that allows for collaboration as well.

You don’t have to travel across an ocean to find another culture—-you can just walk across the street, stroll down King Street, or drive I-70 Westbound. It is a precious rarity, and not available anywhere else in the world. Not in Europe, not in China, not in the Middle East….nowhere else. We are so very fortunate.

It no secret that next week our family will get to go out and watch our son graduate from the US Air Force Academy after 4 pretty hard years. The new Lieutenants walking up to that stage to receive their diplomas will be from all 50 states, and from every kind of background that you can imagine. And they are all Americans and gonna serve this great country. Our son, and all the other graduates, now have all should understand something about our country because of this exposure to different cadets in his class.. And I hope that he and his classmates have learned, and now know, how EXCEPTIONAL the country he serves is.

But those new grads (and all of us) should be very reluctant at being divided into different subgroups. We aren’t “Anglo-Americans”, “Asian-Americans”, “Latin-Americans”, “African-Americans”….no, we are Americans, from everywhere else, but here now to enjoy the opportunities, freedoms, and blessings of this amazing country. I know some groups want to hold onto that segmentation, but it is to their detriment and it hurts our ability to succeed as a country. It is awesome to have that background, but don’t let it affect your future.

It isn’t addition—-it’s multiplication. Not that I’m good at either, but when you have different backgrounds brainstorm together it isn’t 1+1, but rather it’s about 5×5, and this is why America is truly the greatest country in the world. If we can leave behind all the things that divide these multipliers, just imagine where we might be as a culture and a country.

So keep shooting hoops no matter where you are from, because it is America. My kids are complete mutts in the sense of genealogy, but I also want them to be mutts in terms of what/who they are exposed to and know. And they can here. Our “muttness” is an amazing blessing. Take advantage of it and learn! God Bless America 🇺🇸

A month ago Shauna and I had the opportunity to go to Delhi, India for a friend’s daughter’s wedding.  It was an amazing and overwhelming experience, and has taken a while to process.  With our limited time there, we sought to soak in as much culture and activities as we possibly could.  The hospitality of our friends, their friends and families was overwhelming and spoke volumes about their culture and country.  It was a once in a lifetime kinda week.

The day after the wedding, Shauna and I made the 4 hour trek to Agra to see the Taj Mahal (total 8 hour travel time and only an $80 Uber!)”.  Amazing is an understatement, particularly with the care and detail that the planners, architects, and builders used just under 400 years ago.   Our tour guide was a local from Agra and he did his best to point out the intricate details of the site.

The Mughal King Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal as a mausoleum to his FAVORITE wife, which seems a perilous decision at best, considering this was for wife #2, and he was married to wife #3 when construction began.  Every detail was extensively thought through, and building materials brought from nearby and thousands of miles away…sometimes via elephant.  The guide explained it was build with white marble, because when you see it from afar, it looks like it is floating in heaven.

He tried to ensure that it was a fitting tribute of the perfection of his wife, Mumtaz Mahal, who died giving birth to their 14th child.  She had definitely earned it.  But towards the end of the tour, our guide pointed out a strange detail.  The entire structure is symmetrical all the way around, except for one section on the northwest corner by the river.  At the base, there is a designed imperfection to the structure, where one marble support has meticulously carved sharp edges, resembling exactly all the other pillars (probably 24 or so of them).  And then next to it, a pillar that is rounded, the only one on the entire vast complex.  A small, but noticeable imperfection.  It’s like the spot on the ceiling of the kitchen—you have to look for it to see it, but once seen, you can’t unsee!  Just on a much grander scale.

Why would the architects include a deliberate imperfection to this masterpiece of architecture from the 1600s?  “Because nothing is perfect except for God” is what our guide told us.  After doing a little research, the actual quote is “nothing is perfect except for Allah”, but he was considering his audience (at that point).  It is an acknowledgment that as humans we all make errors and should be humble with regard to our humanity.  There are for sure other mistakes on this UNESCO world heritage site, but this one was intentional.  

I like to think that this wasn’t false humility.  Shah Jahan and everyone else that built the Taj is long long gone.  But he/they made a statement that life can have missteps, no matter how perfect something appears.  And you have to recognize as a human being that you are flawed, but every day you can build something spectacular, and something lasting.   I hope to be building the same with my favorite wife too (that’s for Shauna!)

Isn’t that our why? Isn’t it our charge for our short time here on earth?  Our imperfections actually give us character, and sometimes actually build character.  The imperfections and trials can create beauty, depth, and fortitude in a person…and we ALL have tough times and trials.  The key, I believe, is to use these imperfections and trials as a support and foundation to lift up something original, amazing, and hopefully closer to God.  Maybe even be an example, and not just “an empty vessel” floating through this life.

Or maybe the flaw wasn’t intentional at all, and just a screw up on one of the most famous structures ever built, who knows! I’ll go with the folklore and a good story.

(Epilogue 1–our guide who was so knowledgeable about the Taj Mahal ended up shaking us down for another $20 at the end of the tour, because well, he saw that I was a sucker and easy target…his short-sighted money grab missed how much that cost him in future recommendations and goodwill.  His imperfection was glaring by the end of the tour.

Epilogue 2–Shah Jahan’s 3rd son, Aurangzeb, fought the other son’s for succession to the throne and killed them all.  Then he imprisoned his dad, Shah Jahan upriver at the Agra Fort, where he could only look a mile or so south and see the gleaming Taj Mahal, that he longed to visit.  Shah Jahan died imprisoned at Agra Fort for 8 years, because his son was worried he would waste more resources building a mausoleum for himself….I’m still processing that tidbit)

Time and experience can dull you, and potentially take the awe and wonder out of life.  Sometimes it seems that everything is just blah grey, and you are swimming in the soup.  I’m lucky enough to live in a beautiful place where the sun shines, and on spectacular days, the term “Carolina Blue” sky has a magical connotation.  But we have some cloudy days too, and it can affect everyone’s mood….particularly mine.  I like the sun.  Then we have a cloudy day and It wasn’t what I wanted, or had pictured in mind.  An east wind off the water, and the clouds can pile up, and sour a day and a mood.  

The clouds gather, but maybe there are a few gaps, these samee clouds then can create a scene even more beautiful than any Carolina blue sky.  A dramatic sunset or amazing sunrise can only happen if those same clouds are positioned just right.  The result is spectacular, jaw-dropping beauty from the things that we may have previously cursed.

Clouds are nature’s stained glass.  Stained glass is an amazing art form, and with the autumn sun lower on the horizon, the beauty only multiplies.  The light shines through and not only accentuates the pattern in the glass, it creates beautiful colors on the interior of church walls—a secondary effect from a mix of colors representing a Saint or a biblical scene.  The 1st attached picture is from inside the Basilica of the Sacred Heart at the University of Notre Dame.  The light was dancing within the church, and I couldn’t resist taking a picture before mass a few weeks ago.  Stained glass takes the light that God gave us (the sun) and amplifies it through what may be viewed as an imperfection or discoloration.  Intentional or not, God uses these imperfections, stains, and weathering to create yet another masterpiece for our viewing.  

I think that these stained glass windows can also create hope for us.  Not just from the amazing Saints or the scene from the Gospel they depict, but their seemingly unintended after-effects, light the internal light on the walls. 

Well, we can too. Life is and can be hard. When you are in the middle of it, it is hard to recognize that your trouble and stains might just one day or in some way reflect inspiration, persistence, or beauty to another.  Our scars and discolorations of life can be used and transformed by God to create the most dazzling and amazing perspectives.  It is only because our glass is stained that we are able to change the light and project such beauty.  How boring life would be if we only had clear and transparent glass.  So, when things are rough, maybe realize that there may be an unexpected positive to come from it.

Lastly, today is All Souls Day in the Church.  We are all gonna be just a soul, memory and a story at some point, just like our ancestors before us.  In this brief time that we have to interact with others and have an impact, isn’t it imperative that we let God’s light shine brightly and colorfully through us?  Just a thought.

(The other picture was taken by me from outside our parish church, Saint Clare of Assisi after Christmas Eve mass a few years ago.  The building itself is new, but the parish has been around a while.  The architects did an amazing job.  The windows were originally going to be clear, because the price of stained glass windows was astronomical.  Shortly before construction started, a group from the church became aware that an abbey near Pittsburgh was closing and liquidating nearly everything…including their stained glass windows.  These particular windows were created in the early 1900s by the  Mayer Institute in Munich, Germany.  The windows were created by true craftsman, and are truly priceless antiques.  Trying to figure out if there was some way if they might work for our new church building, they measured the existing plans for the clear windows, and found that the antique stained glass windows came within mere inches.  They look spectacular now installed in our parish.  Seems like a God thing to me that they found their way to Charleston.  If you are in the area, please stop by anytime to see them.

And the picture is from the outside that cold night, so I happen to think this is God’s light and love is radiating outward from Church on that Christmas Eve.)

“All people are born as originals, but many die as photocopies”—Saint Carlo Acutis

Pope Leo canonized Saint Carlo on September 7th and the day after, Father West preached over a few of his most profound maxims in the homily. There were several great thoughts, but this particular one stood out. Saint Carlo Acutis, the first “millennial saint” spoke about something that plagues our current lives. I believe that too many of us waste too much time trying to be someone else or like someone else. Instagram and Social Media now encourage uniformity—all wearing the “original” same thing, same music, and same laughing at “6/7” that nobody knows why it is funny…there is very little originality and authenticity, and yet another reason for our kids to struggle emotionally and mentally.

In the last 3 weeks since I heard this teaching, I have been crunching on authenticity and what a gift it is. Next to Integrity and Grit, I think authenticity is one of my most valued human traits. If you can’t be authentic and your true self, I would argue then what is the whole point? While trying to digest Saint Calor Acutis’ teaching, life happens and I was again reminded what it is to live life as an original.

Coach Steve Franks was my high school offensive line coach at Marist, and he had a profound impact on me as a young man. He was what is known as a “hard-nosed coach”…he could not be satisfied…your best had to be better every day. He was a perfectionist with us, and relentlessly pushed us to be our best. Coach Franks would also use his Alabama drawl to say some of the absolute funniest things my ears have ever heard. “Wetter than a cow pissin’ on a flat rock”, “out the gate in 48” and “smells worse than a south Alabama outhouse”…but also hearing that voice barking at you to do better meant something, because he meant it! All of that added up to a character that was an original. His originality drove us to be our best, not only at the age of 17, but onward from there in life. Steve Franks passed away just over a week ago after battling ALS (I didn’t know about his diagnosis and I don’t think many did). God got an original back to him, and they are laughing up there now at all the dumb things we do, while strongly pushing us to be better.

Earlier this week, Shauna and I got to visit my Aunt Cici and Uncle Phil at their home. They are still their authentic selves and always have been, even in their mid-80s now. My Dad likes to say when they made Uncle Phil, they “broke the mold”. Uncle Phil still has that spark, even though his body might not allow it to show as much. If you have ever met Uncle Phil, you definitely remember him and he made an impression on you. His funny sayings, his loud “hey, GIIIIRRRLLLL”, big hugs, and hand written birthday cards are kinda his trademarks. One of my favorite memories was him dedicating his towering drives of the golf ball to specific people (“Jimbo, this one is for YOU!”). the ball would land 300+ yards later, he kinda would dance off the tee. This inner spark and spirit makes the world brighter for sure.

I can think of no better example than 22 years ago when Shauna and I asked Uncle Phil to do a reading during our wedding. My guess is he is probably the only person to ad lib a Bible verse during a wedding, reading from Genesis how God did good in creating Eve (woman) and then he bellowed out in his low southern baritone “and Good God you did Good!” It was hilarious…we loved it and his originality helped us all relax and enjoy that awesome day, and has so many other times during his now 85 years. Uncle Phil would never be described as a photocopy.

And then yesterday, I got to see one of the best examples of originality. Was on my walk by the river in Austin during a layover, and there is a place that rents kayaks and SUPs. Just there, in the middle of the trail, was a gentleman in a wheel chair. HUGE smile on his face. Other than his smile and body language, it was clear that the man had difficulty communicating. The trail was crowded with people running, biking, walking and there he was just beaming at everyone that would pass by…he stuck out his elbows and gestured for everyone to bump elbows with him. As each lucky person passed by, it was like they were able to absorb his joy. The smiles on those that had elbow-bumped this joyful person told the whole story. I think he is out there every day, because it seemed like the locals were expecting him. Here was someone who probably had many reasons to be down and despondent, but instead he radiated joy. His authentic joy and love for others gifted all on that trail joy. It didn’t cost anything, but his incredible attitude was once again a reflection of the blessing of God’s originality.

I think this was exactly what Saint Carlo Acutis was implying…it’s our originality that God gave us that can put joy into the world for others. I’d suggest we lean into that whenever possible.

“Just got rear ended.”

“Broke my phone”

These were the 2 text messages we got on Saturday afternoon from our 21 year old son.  Sounded pretty minor.

He was driving his girlfriend’s car on I-25 to surprise pick her up at the airport, and somebody didn’t stop behind him.  Car was totaled, he got a mild concussion, but overall he is ok (other than his phone).  Major car crash on an interstate and his concern is his broken iPhone.  Now he is winding through the painful insurance process when I’m sure he’d rather be doing anything else.

This is parenting college kids.  It’s way harder than we thought it would be.  In fact, Shauna and I think it might be the hardest period of life to parent (thus far of course!).  

When they are little, you just TELL them what to do, and if they don’t do it, there are consequences.  There has to be consequences.  “Because I said so” is a valid, albeit, weak reason for anything from a parent when they are little.  But they have to do what you say.  If you do it right, they end up doing it without you having to tell them every time.

But with now 2 kids in college, we have found you can only SUGGEST parenting.  They are off on their own, but they really aren’t.   These kids are doing study abroad in Europe, jumping out of airplanes, and studying advanced thermodynamics, but still using GPS to get to the neighborhood Publix. They haven’t had all of life’s turns, but they are out there in the world.  So everything is new, and there is a lot of pressure on which decision they might make.  Their future might literally depend on it.

Looking back when Shauna and I were in our late teens to mid-twenties, the stuff that happened then set the course for all that followed.  We didn’t know it at the time, but now we realize the net below the tightrope has some big holes.  So college age kids should tiptoe that rope, but the instinct is to stomp across it.  They think they are bulletproof.

A friend of mine from the Academy (whose kid is also in our son’s class) told me 3 years ago “they aren’t ours anymore.”  After I got the lump out of my throat, I realized that this was the plan all along…we raise them up for 18 years.  We do some good things in parenting, some bad (hopefully more of the former than the latter), but the intent is to send them out into the world and to do good.

When we dropped MC off for her freshman year at Notre Dame, the University did an outstanding job with the transition, for both students and parents.  At the end of the weekend, there was a huge Mass, with all the parents and students there.  It filled the arena.  Father Pete McCormick (who is an amazing priest/leader) was the celebrant, and during the homily he said “parents, look, this is your best outcome.  Leave!!!  They are not gonna do great things from your basement couch.  Leave, and Pray!  That’s all you can do now.”

He was right.  There will be car crashes, tests that didn’t go so well, relationship issues, money issues, and the worst—broken iPhones 😀, but through it all we have to let them learn rather than be an active helicopter or bulldozer parent.  Maybe what God is telling us is to be more active in prayer for them, their friends, and our world, because that is our only option.  And the. love on them even more.

I guess I’m just saying that this is hard, and to our friends who are sending their now semi-grown kids out into the world, we are here for y’all and it will all be ok.  But definitely not a straight path.  Prayers up and good luck to us all.

“I am a breathing Time Machine”…that line comes from my favorite Avett Brothers song “Laundry Room”.   The line is repeated multiple times in the song, and I find it rattling around in my head often when flying over this beautiful country.

I’m lucky enough to get paid to fly over America.  About to do it again this afternoon…and in addition to the work part of my job, I get to look down at all the beautiful geography below.  Mountains, rivers, lakes, cities, plains, deserts…all of it.  God created a masterpiece and I am in awe…always have been since I took my first flight.

But now when I look down, I don’t only see God’s incredible work and the force of nature, but I see God’s course for my life in memories and people.  I see memories with my family when I fly across—the trips and vacations we have taken, the places we have been, the hikes, skiing, boat rides, the meals, and the meltdowns in the back of the van (“get off my seat!”, “I don’t want that movie”, and the infamous NJ turnpike incident).  God provided these amazing places for the memories with the people I love most.

There is where I graduated in 1996.  There is where I met Shauna in 1999.  There is where we were married.  There is where Nolin, MC, Adele, and Charlotte were born.  There is where we had he best days.  Some days there weren’t so great.  There is where we raised little kids, and there is where we are raising bigger kids.  There is where we dropped them off and bawled our eyes out until we couldn’t cry anymore. There is where we saw that concert or football game.  There is where my Granddad told me he caddied for a nickel a round.  There is where the kids tell us that we are old because we were born in the 1900s.  I can’t imagine not having these memories…I would just be a shell.  

I’ve noticed lately when I’m flying as a passenger, most people keep their window shades closed.  I think this is a courtesy to others so they can see their movies or shows.  We all get absorbed into any screen in front of us. Don’t.  I used to say that I only offer one piece of advice that is 100% fact, but now I have 2.  The first is to have a round dinner table that the family prays and eats meals together at.  It has to be round—trust me.  

And now I’ll add that the 2nd piece of advice is to raise the window shade on your flights.  Even just for a short time and glimpse.  Not only will you see God’s magnificent creation of nature, but also see what HE has blessed you with in being a “breathing Time Machine”. 

You only have so many of those breaths, so get out and make memories while you do with the ones you love.  You won’t regret it.

(If you want to see an amazing performance of the song “Laundry Room” by the Avett Brothers, this is when they did it at Bonaroo a few years ago.  

This is my wife’s favorite tree.  It is a “tulip magnolia” and grows in the front yard of a house on Hamlin Road, between Sweetgrass Parkway and Rifle Range Road.  Y’all that know Shauna know she is smart…she says that when she sees this beautiful tree (or a homeless man with a loyal dog), it shows her that nature doesn’t care about status, wealth or privilege…nature cares about giving love as God intended.  

Pretty deep for a tree!

This tree is a tulip/saucer magnolia tree, and begins blooming about Feb 15th every year.  One of our first signs of spring.

The cinder block house behind the tree is painted “haint blue”.  Better than me trying to explain it, Wikipedia says that “Haint blue is a term for a range of pale blue-green colors traditionally used to paint porch ceilings in the Southern United States. The color’s origins are rooted in Gullah Geechee beliefs about “haints”, or evil spirits, disliking water. Painting ceilings blue was thought to trick haints into thinking it was the sky and deter them from entering homes.”  We all paint our porch ceilings haint blue to keep away the no-see-ums, gnats, and for tradition.

When i drive Hamlin Road, I always see this tree, and oftentimes I see an older man on a bike, carrying Sweetgrass and bulrush from the marsh on his handlebars.  He is bringing these treasures home to the basketmaker in his family.  A Lowcountry form of hunter-gatherer.  His efforts in the marsh will be weaved into the most beautiful shapes and patterns by the basketmaker in the family…true works of art.  Some are rightly found in museums.  Sweetgrass baskets are a treasure that tourists and locals alike relish.

The people that live in these haint blue painted houses and and their neighbors are Gullah Geechee.  They are descendants of the former slaves and are now proud African-Americans and they live on “heirs property”, go to AME and Baptist churches, but still bear the names and scars of the past.  Place and Plantation names like Pettigrew, Hamlin, Maczyck, Porcher, Jefferson, Middleton.  They bear some scars of not only the slave era but the horrible Jim Crow era. “Heirs property” for those that haven’t heard of it, is property that has been handed down through many generations from the former slaves that worked the land.  Many times, the land has been subdivided from great great great grandparents on down…and the percentage of ownership in the original land has decreased.  Because these folks generally lack political influence and money, it seems the law  hasn’t caught up with heirs property, there is no title to the property, and it creates property tax headaches for the residents, county and state.

Behind these beautiful trees and under the live oaks, we’ve found some of the proudest and most loving peoples you can find, but they have a well-earned generational distrust of institutions.  They have been done wrong both legally and by con-men, and are rightfully hesitant to trust.

Shauna and I get to meet them regularly through some work we do with our church…I say work, but it is usually one of the best parts of our days.  We get to meet these fine people, usually with big smiles and hearts, and hear their stories and cut up with them.  Shauna and I can be bogged down in the minutiae of raising teenagers in this crazy world and trying to keep up with the Joneses, and we are called to visit and try to assist these folks with electric or water bills…paid for with donations from the church.  We just are the interface from the church.

Shauna and I can be  super-stressed about the unimportant, bickering with each other, and then we get to visit with these folks to try to help them….and what happens 99% of the time is they help us.  It becomes the best part of our day.  We quickly realize that they are the ones that have the right perspective.  They put their faith in God and the fact that he will provide.  They put love into their community and everyone there is a relative…whether by blood or not.  And they put their rich smiles and honest laughs out to the world, and we are all better for it

There is no despair…they put their faith in God, and keep going.  Even after all the multi-generational wrongs that have occurred and what they have seen…they have a resolute and devout faith that all will be well.  God will provide.  Things will be better.  

Yesterday, we had a visit with an 85 year old lady—she is one of our favorites to see and she talks about her grands and has a quick laugh.  She told us about how Billy Graham and his organization came in after Hurricane Hugo in 1989…Billy gave them all temporary trailers to live in, and she got a picture with him.  “What a Gooood Man!” she said, genuinely reflecting on a time when things were bleak yet some kindness found its way back amongst the marsh, sweetgrass, and dirt driveways of Awendaw, SC.

This sweet lady has one of those saucer magnolia trees in her yard too.  It’s wild and beautiful, and provides the most amazing blooms as a first sign of spring.  These beautiful trees, nature, Billy Graham, the people of these communities, and God only care about love.  I think Shauna has it right.

Mr. Ronald works as a maitre-d’ for a restaurant in Atlanta. His restaurant sees more traffic than any other in Atlanta, well, actually in the world.

He attends to the food needs of travelers at Fresh to Order in Concourse B, Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson Airport.  Fresh to Order has the slogan “Good for Fast”, and it is pretty good for airport food.  Salads, Salmon, Grilled Chicken.  I guess that many of y’all have seen Mr. Ronald.  He is probably 75-80, with a pronounced limp, and a big smile.  Since I’m a little more portly than I used to be, I try to eat there more often than “God’s Chicken” (THE Chic-fil-a).  

When a pretty lady walks up, Mr. Ronald does his best to treat her like a queen, quickly finding her a rare seat, and wiping the plastic seat clean with his rag.  My wife calls him her favorite person in the airport.  Mr. Ronald also has the same cadence in his speech of the servers at the Varsity that bark out “What’ll ya have?”, but instead Mr. Ronald has his own go to phrases.

You might know him by—

“NO LINE, NO LINE, NO LINE”

“I got you Baby” 

And my personal favorite-

“SO GLAD FOR EVERYBODY!”

And he loudly repeats these mantras over and over.  Some folks smile, some ignore him, and some folks really get it.  Mr. Ronald really means it.  “SO GLAD FOR EVERYBODY”, because he treats everybody like a brother/sister and how I think he would want to be treated.

With the very tough week for aviation and our country, I think we would be wise to keep Mr. Ronald’s words.  There sure has been lots of folks throwing around blame and accusations, but there was no malice….just a mistake or mistakes.  The Swiss Cheese holes all lined up unfortunately.  There will be lessons learned and changes made, but assigning blame doesn’t help anything.  It hurts.  It hurts the grieving.  

I hope the pilots, crew, and passengers may have once heard Mr. Ronald’s words that he is “SO GLAD FOR EVERYBODY”, and took it at face value.  We are all trying hard to do what’s right during our time here…let’s appreciate that.  It would be great if we could treat others like Mr. Ronald does.

Salt, Light, Grace, and Grit

The night sky has been exceptionally beautiful, clear, and cold the last few nights.  With the “short” days of the December and January calendar, I find myself outside more during the dark night.  And how majestic and beautiful it is.

I’m not alone in this assessment…for 10s of thousands of years, people have looked up to the sky in amazement and wonder.  I was reminded in church this weekend of the Magi following the star during the Epiphany.  The night sky is a connection with the vastness and grandeur of our God’s creation.

Our family is a bunch of space nerds.  We love to look up and see the moon, planets, constellations, satellites, and the occasional SpaceX launch.  One of our most used apps on our iPhone is the Skyview Free app…it settles our many disagreements about what we are really looking at quickly.  By far my favorite thing to see in the night sky is Orion’s Belt, not only because it is relatively easy to find and identify, but I will always hold a personal memory of it.  

After doing a little research on Orion’s Belt, the 3 stars that make up this mini-constellation are 900-1800 light years away…an incomprehensible distance for someone like me.  The center star in the Belt is named Alnilam…astronomers tell us that it burns with an intensity of 800,000x of our own sun!  What?!?!   For centuries, cultures have looked to Orion and his belt for stories, strength, and the stability of a constant in the night sky.

While amazing and incredible as that is, my reasons for admiring Orion’s Belt is sentimental.  When our family was stationed in Hawaii (2008/2009 timeframe), we took a brief vacation over the holidays to Kaanapali Beach, Maui.  My parents came out to visit, and after a rough ferry ride over to Maui from Honolulu, we were ready to relax.  The kids were little, so little that Mary Caroline was in pigtails, Adele was in diapers, and Charlotte wasn’t even thought of yet.  We decided to take a beach walk one beautiful clear night—-it was a fantastic, clear Hawaiian moonless night where you could almost hear the slack-string guitar of “Mele Kalikimaka” playing thru the palms.  Walking south along the beach, I was holding little Nolin’s hand, and he was age 4 or 5.  Remembering correctly now, I was probably grasping his hand trying to restrain him from plunging headfirst into the dangerous surf, because well, that would be a Nolin thing to do.  He was and still is a bit of a mischievous hellion, and all boy.

At one point on the walk, our little boy looked up, stuck out his index finger, and said “Look, Orion’s Belt!”  He had read about it somewhere, or our awesome neighbor Bob Kesler had taught him that at some point (Bob is a highly skilled amateur astronomer).  We certainly hadn’t taught him that, and he was trying to show us how smart he was.  But for us, it was more than intelligence, it was also a symbol of his wonder and awe at the heavens, and it was a good sign.

Fast forward to just last week, we were on a night walk, near the coast.  20 year old Nolin saw those same stars and pointed them out to me once again.  I was waiting for it, because I always think of him when I see Orion’s Belt.  I am so grateful to now have that connection to him, even when he is far away.

He tells us now at school, on dark, clear, Colorado nights he will take his telescope with him, drive up in the hills to the darkest place he can find, and stare up into the heavens.  Sometimes alone, sometimes with others, but we love that he is enjoying this ancient quest to appreciate and try to understand God’s magnificent creation.  And we get to see the same above us.  Shauna used to sing the kids a song with the line “Lord let the light that shines on me, shine on the one I love.”  Maybe they hear that when they look up too.

God gave us these amazing natural wonders for stability, awe, and admiration.  Ancient cultures, the Magi, our little family, and all of us get to watch it in awe.  Thank you Lord—-Indeed, How Great Thou Art!

(When the kids post things to instagram, they only do it in stories, so it goes away…but the old man tries to get a screenshot when I can to remember it…that’s what the picture is. A screenshot from a recent story of Nolin’s)