Have you ever had the feeling that God was trying to tell you something, but you weren’t really sure exactly what He was trying say to you? Something a little strange, but quite wonderful, has been happening to me over the past couple of weeks. I have been reconnecting with people that I haven’t spoken to, some of whom, for many years.
It all started last week, as I shared with you in an earlier post about talking on the phone to my Aunt Ginny who I haven’t spoken to since my Dads funeral almost 27 years ago. It was such a great joy to talk with her and catch up and exchange email addresses so that we could do a better job of remaining in touch in the future.
A few days later we had dinner with Ron and Nancy who have been our dearest friends since Ron was appointed to serve as pastor of my home church, Trinity UMC, around 9 years ago. Since that time Ron has not only been my dear friend but he has also been my mentor, helping and guiding me through the challenges of ministry. I do not believe that I would be a minister today had it not been for Ron’s influence. The great thing about Ron and Nancy is that they probably know Karen and I better than anyone else in the world and they love us anyway.
Next came my dear friend Marcia who I had the opportunity to have breakfast with earlier this week. Marcia was one of the most significant supporters of my desire to enter into ministry. Without her help and guidance I am not sure that I would have had the courage to leave my practice and follow my call.
Right after I got home from breakfast with Marcia, the phone rang and it was my great friend Rick. Dr. Rick and I went through Chiropractic College together, and without him, I am pretty sure that I wouldn’t have made it through. We were so close in school that my son Ben, when he first started to talk, would call Rick, Dad. I also remember a time that Karen and I had left our apartment during the summer break and traveled back home to Illinois with our new born son Ben. When we arrived back in Georgia to our apartment we found it infested with fleas. Poor Ben had over 100 of the miserable little creatures crawling on him within just a few seconds after setting him down on the carpet when we first went in the door. Thank goodness for Rick’s gracious offer to spend a couple of days in his apartment while ours was being fumigated or we might have had to sleep in the car.
After hanging up the phone from my conversation with Rick I had an opportunity to talk to my nephew Ben. You might notice that he shares the same name as my son Ben. My nephew, Ben, is one year older than me, and we grew up together. I always loved the name Ben, and when our son was born I had no doubt that I wanted him to be named for my nephew who was more like a brother to me than a nephew. Unfortunately, we haven’t talked as much here recently as I would like, and I think God is trying to tell me to improve on this.
The next day, I ran into another dear friend Alice from Maine, who I hadn’t seen for over three years. Alice was also someone who was very supportive of Karen and I when we made the transition into ministry.
This morning, I had an opportunity to see another dear friend of our family, Leslie, who worked in our office for many years as a Massage Therapist. But Leslie’s friendship went much deeper than just a professional relationship. Her whole family has always been very special to Karen and I. And by the way, between Leslie and her mother, they make the best pumpkin pies I have ever eaten in my life.
Finally, this afternoon Karen and I ran into Mr. Arnold. Carl, (Mr. Arnold is what our kids always called him) and his wife Annie are two of our oldest and dearest friends. Carl is one of the finest woodworkers that I have ever met, and also one of the most profound, and funny, philosophers that I have ever known. One of Carl’s most memorable sayings, which I must admit that I have used myself many times is, “It may be a small world, but I would sure hate to paint it!” Carl and Annie were two people who befriended our family when we first moved to Seymour more than twenty years ago, and I must say that Annie’s home made chicken soup has gotten me through many episodes of flu when I thought I was going to die. Come to think of it, it was Carl that first introduced me to the internet and Nintendo. Hmmmm, I’m not sure if that is good or bad.
All in all this has been a week filled with the joy of reunions. I get the feeling that God is really trying to tell me something. Perhaps the lesson is that we should never become too busy to pick up the phone and call those people that we care about the most, and maybe, no matter how busy we are, we should be sure to make it a point to keep in touch.
One lesson that I know for sure from this experience is the knowledge that I have always been blessed with the gift of great friendships, and each of them have been true gifts from God.
Blessings
It all started last week, as I shared with you in an earlier post about talking on the phone to my Aunt Ginny who I haven’t spoken to since my Dads funeral almost 27 years ago. It was such a great joy to talk with her and catch up and exchange email addresses so that we could do a better job of remaining in touch in the future.
A few days later we had dinner with Ron and Nancy who have been our dearest friends since Ron was appointed to serve as pastor of my home church, Trinity UMC, around 9 years ago. Since that time Ron has not only been my dear friend but he has also been my mentor, helping and guiding me through the challenges of ministry. I do not believe that I would be a minister today had it not been for Ron’s influence. The great thing about Ron and Nancy is that they probably know Karen and I better than anyone else in the world and they love us anyway.
Next came my dear friend Marcia who I had the opportunity to have breakfast with earlier this week. Marcia was one of the most significant supporters of my desire to enter into ministry. Without her help and guidance I am not sure that I would have had the courage to leave my practice and follow my call.
Right after I got home from breakfast with Marcia, the phone rang and it was my great friend Rick. Dr. Rick and I went through Chiropractic College together, and without him, I am pretty sure that I wouldn’t have made it through. We were so close in school that my son Ben, when he first started to talk, would call Rick, Dad. I also remember a time that Karen and I had left our apartment during the summer break and traveled back home to Illinois with our new born son Ben. When we arrived back in Georgia to our apartment we found it infested with fleas. Poor Ben had over 100 of the miserable little creatures crawling on him within just a few seconds after setting him down on the carpet when we first went in the door. Thank goodness for Rick’s gracious offer to spend a couple of days in his apartment while ours was being fumigated or we might have had to sleep in the car.
After hanging up the phone from my conversation with Rick I had an opportunity to talk to my nephew Ben. You might notice that he shares the same name as my son Ben. My nephew, Ben, is one year older than me, and we grew up together. I always loved the name Ben, and when our son was born I had no doubt that I wanted him to be named for my nephew who was more like a brother to me than a nephew. Unfortunately, we haven’t talked as much here recently as I would like, and I think God is trying to tell me to improve on this.
The next day, I ran into another dear friend Alice from Maine, who I hadn’t seen for over three years. Alice was also someone who was very supportive of Karen and I when we made the transition into ministry.
This morning, I had an opportunity to see another dear friend of our family, Leslie, who worked in our office for many years as a Massage Therapist. But Leslie’s friendship went much deeper than just a professional relationship. Her whole family has always been very special to Karen and I. And by the way, between Leslie and her mother, they make the best pumpkin pies I have ever eaten in my life.
Finally, this afternoon Karen and I ran into Mr. Arnold. Carl, (Mr. Arnold is what our kids always called him) and his wife Annie are two of our oldest and dearest friends. Carl is one of the finest woodworkers that I have ever met, and also one of the most profound, and funny, philosophers that I have ever known. One of Carl’s most memorable sayings, which I must admit that I have used myself many times is, “It may be a small world, but I would sure hate to paint it!” Carl and Annie were two people who befriended our family when we first moved to Seymour more than twenty years ago, and I must say that Annie’s home made chicken soup has gotten me through many episodes of flu when I thought I was going to die. Come to think of it, it was Carl that first introduced me to the internet and Nintendo. Hmmmm, I’m not sure if that is good or bad.
All in all this has been a week filled with the joy of reunions. I get the feeling that God is really trying to tell me something. Perhaps the lesson is that we should never become too busy to pick up the phone and call those people that we care about the most, and maybe, no matter how busy we are, we should be sure to make it a point to keep in touch.
One lesson that I know for sure from this experience is the knowledge that I have always been blessed with the gift of great friendships, and each of them have been true gifts from God.
Blessings
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