My Riding Buddy

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By Roger Barbee

If you travel our lake front street early on some mornings, you may see two old men between a small building and the street. One is riding a stationary handcycle while the other sits in his chair and participates, not in the riding, but in the conversation—which covers a variety of topics.

 Ken is the riding buddy. I am the hand cycler. I knew him before I met him. I liked him then, more now.

Ken and his wife Cheryl were moving here from Rhode Island, and I first met her when she was here to check on the renovations of their new home which is across the street from ours.   I saw her checking for mail on such a visit, and I introduced myself, and as we chatted she told me that her husband was a cancer survivor and organ recipient.

After our encounter, I kept thinking of the man I had never met. I kept thinking of the man who, like my friend Mike, was a transplant survivor. I kept thinking of a man and his wife who were moving to live near a daughter. I kept thinking of cancer and its horrors. I kept think of an organ transplant. I respected and admired him before I met him because of all that he had done, none of it witnessed by me.

The moving van arrived on a day of rain. The renovated house was becoming a home for the woman I had chatted with and the man I had never met. But one day while driving home I passed a man I thought was he. After parking my car in our driveway, I went to the street to talk with the walker. It was Ken. He stood on the side of our street, and we talked about everything but nothing. It all mattered but was mostly of little significance. Yet what is important is that the man I had admired from a distance was now present.

Some mornings he walks across our street and sits in his chair as I ride. We talk and in that loose, relaxed chatter and banter we relate. We have learned each other, and I wonder sometimes if we would have ever met in our previous lives. But I doubt that because we led different lives then, but not now. Now he and I are here, two retired men sharing life lived well.

I knew Ken before I met him, and when he walks across the street to sit with me, we share more and more of this life as it is reflected from our past lives with its scars.

The mystic William Blake wrote, “ The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.” Like the bird and spider of Blake, I have been gifted by the man I knew and admired before I met him. He’s my riding buddy.

Others…..

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By Ed Traut

Philippians 2:4 Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.

  • It is the nature of God in us not to consider ourselves first.
  • Love is kind and generous and seeks not its own – let us always be considerate.
  • Even when we are busy we should take time to be concerned, interested and focused on other people too and their needs – it is the way of the cross.

Prayer:  Lord I yield myself to You today that Your Holy Spirit may create Your nature inside of me continually that I would be focused and concerned for other people’s needs sincerely and want to help.  Lead me Holy Spirit to want to be that person that cares for others.  Amen. 
 

Ed Traut
Prophetic Life

Meet Meredith Bonner

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By David Freeze

   Meredith Bonner started at East Rowan High as a freshman basketball player, in her own words unhappy with her skill. She continued to struggle except when the team moved to the track for conditioning workouts that often included lots of sprints. Meredith said, “I was always ahead on the workouts, and I had never felt so excited to actually win. My coach pointed out that I should try track, as it seemed I would excel in that far more than basketball. That spring I started my first ever track season, and it was the best decision I have ever made.”

     As a soccer player through the eighth grade, Meredith realized that her success came there too because of running ability. As a sophomore, she ran track and cross country and joined the swim team. She said, “Other than the ridiculous looking cap and goggles we have to wear, swimming is an amazing outlet. Swimming always allows my muscles to take a minor break from running, while continuing to stay in shape. The meets are a fun time, and I love all my teammates dearly. The green hair from the chlorine filled pools were always a nice bonus as well.”

   At home with her mother, stepfather, grandmother, and two younger brothers, most more artistic than athletic, Meredith finds inspiration in her stepfather, “He excelled at tennis and swam in his youth. He’s been an athletic role model for me, and I never want to let him down. My younger brothers, Thomas and Joshua, both play tennis and soccer. My mother is the most supportive human being on the planet. I could fall and face-plant during a track meet, and she would still try and convince me of how well I performed.”

    That support was important during the past year when In November 2020 and in the middle of cross- country season, Meredith had a bad car accident. The other person thankfully was uninjured, but Meredith’s car was totaled.  She said, “I ran a cross country meet the next day, and everything seemed fine afterwards. Later that evening I could not walk on my left side, and halted running for days, thinking that it might be better with a few days’ rest. A couple more weeks went by with no improvement. Familiar with hip issues from my freshman year of track, I developed a stress fracture in my right hip, and was out for the entire end of the season. This time, it seemed I developed a stress fracture from the pressure of the car accident on the left side of my hip, worsened by the meet I had ran the very next day. I was forced to miss the county meet, unable to run again until the conference meet the next year. This experience was both physically painful and mentally draining. Running had become my crutch, and without it I felt very empty and upset constantly. I made a full recovery by the beginning of this year, and thankfully have avoided any hip problems since. In this process I learned to always remain positive and to take more care of my body and mental health. Coach Cris Leckonby was huge for me through all of this.”

    Away from running, Meredith’s passions include reading, writing, and art. She collects fantasy, classical literature, science fiction, and romance novels and wants the opportunity to write one day, have her own library, and possibly even meet some of her most influential authors. Art is another pastime that has helped her through tough days. She loves colors and creating new pieces that come to life on a blank paper.

    Already the county champion in the 1600 and 3200 and all county in cross country while about to begin her senior year, Meredith said, “It’s very bittersweet to have my last year of cross country and track coming up so fast. I’m intent on breaking 21 minutes in cross country with more hard work. This track and field season, I will keep working to qualify for regionals in the 1600, wanting 5 minutes and 40 seconds by season’s end, as well as shaving a few seconds off my 800. 

    Academically, Meredith hopes to improve her GPA this year, and make her first ever A in math. She said, “I hope a college sees potential in me and asks me to run for them. I would absolutely love to run track and cross country in college while majoring in English. With there being few options for an English major, I’ve considered teaching as a very viable career path.”

    Look for this Saturday’s Run/Walk for the Greenway 5K and other events at www.salisburyrowanrunners.org

Fragile

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By Ann Farabee

The package was delivered.

The first thing I noticed was the warning: FRAGILE.

Some packages may not give a warning that it is fragile.

Instead, they may give these instructions: HANDLE WITH CARE.

Either way, we know that what is in the package may be damaged or broken if we do not handle it with care.

For me, the warning worked. I picked that package up, carried it carefully into my house, and placed it gently on the table. As I opened it, I had to go through styrofoam packaging to get to it, so apparently the sender and the postal workers had been careful, too. It was not broken or damaged.

Do we pay attention when we see that an item is fragile or needs to be handled with care? At my house, I often hear or say something like this, “Be careful! That will get broken!” Or perhaps I should say, “Handle with care! That’s fragile!”

But how about us? Not packages – but people.

We do not have a sign on us that warns: I AM FRAGILE.

Nor do we have a sign on us that instructs: HANDLE WITH CARE.

But sometimes, it would almost be appropriate.

If we will pay attention to those around us, we may know, anyway.

We may see it in their actions.

We may see it in their movements.

We may see it on their face.

We may see it in their eyes.

We may hear it in their voices.

They are in a stage of their lives where they may feel damaged or broken.

They are crying out: I AM FRAGILE. PLEASE HANDLE WITH CARE.

*Perhaps they lost a loved one. They are still grieving greatly, although we wrongly assume they have begun to move forward.

*Perhaps someone is dealing with a personal or private problem they do not often talk about to others.

*Perhaps it is a son, a daughter, a mother, a father, a grandparent, a neighbor, a friend, or even a pastor – all struggling with a heavy load that they do not feel will ever be lightened.

*Perhaps it is a prison inmate, a hospital patient, the employee working hard to make ends meet, the one close to bankruptcy, or those living in an unhappy home.

*Perhaps it is someone who is elderly, someone who is too busy, someone who lives alone, someone who needs encouragement, someone who is depressed, or someone who needs a friend.

No, the words ‘I AM FRAGILE’ and ‘HANDLE WITH CARE’ are not written on their T-shirts, but they are written on their hearts.

You will know who they are –

Reach out to one of them today.

There’s a promise from God about doing that –

Luke 6:28  – Give and it shall be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

Together with Family

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By Doug Creamer

Together with Family

            There are many special things to me about the July 4th holiday. I begin the day by hanging my grandfather’s flag on my house. My grandmother gave it to me, and I consider it a very special reminder of him. It is big and beautiful, and always makes me feel patriotic.

            For many years my wife and I hosted the family gathering at our house, when we lived near Faith. The year that President Bush came to Faith was a particularly memorable time. We always took my nephews and nieces over to the fair and enjoyed the rides.

            My brother has been hosting the family gathering at his house for a number of years now. It’s convenient for everyone to gather at his house. One of my great-nephews referred to his house as the “fun house” the other day. I have to agree with him. It is always fun to go to my brother’s house.

            It was so good to see my family gathered at my brother’s house for the 4th. There is a retired pastor who lives across the street who came over to join the festivities. You can’t be thin-skinned to be at my brother’s house; you will get picked on. The retired pastor joined in the fun and kept everyone laughing. We all treat him and his wife like family.

            It’s fun when we gather as family to hear what everyone has been up to since the last time we were together. There are always plenty of stories being shared, some happy, and others about the daily struggles that make up our lives. Everyone has a story, and family gatherings are the perfect opportunity to share. The one thing my family shares at family gatherings is plenty of laughter.

            My nieces and nephews are having babies, which is naturally the biggest family news. Another nephew is working hard at his new business of mail-order gourmet food and moving into a new house. Family vacations were a big topic. And naturally, I brought my new book, which caused some excitement, too.

            After dinner, my brother set off some fireworks. We all enjoyed watching my three-year-old great-nephew as he watched the fireworks. Who am I kidding; the adults were enjoying the fireworks, too! The time passed quickly, and before you knew it, we are all working together to clean up.

            One of my favorite parts of the day is getting home in time to watch the Capital Fourth Celebration on public television. I really enjoy listening to the special music and watching the fireworks from the comfort of my couch with my wife. It is a great ending to a wonderful day. The fourth of July is a great time to celebrate family, friends, and eat some great food.

            Gathering together as a family keeps our hearts united and our bonds strong. We need each other to celebrate our victories, but it’s more important to be there when times are tough. God designed us to be co-dependent on each other, especially in the family of God. There are no super Christians who can make it through life on their own. We need the love and support of each other to press through the challenges life presents.

            The pandemic has kept many people away from gathering at church. It is so important that we gather and connect with each other. I need your gifts and you need mine. We need to worship, hear the message, and share our needs for prayer. We need to encourage each other and hold each other accountable so we will stay strong and united in faith. We need to laugh and cry together.  

            We can’t escape the fact that we need each other in both practical and spiritual ways. Sometimes we need practical help fixing or moving things. Other times we need a shoulder to cry on. Your prayers may be the thing that helps me put one foot in front of the other as I take steps forward. For some, the family of God is their only family; brothers and sisters in Christ, offering love and support.

            I want to encourage you to commit to safely gathering and connecting with fellow believers. If you aren’t comfortable attending church due to the pandemic, connect on the phone, email, text, or simply visit one another. Our spirits need to be rekindled and stirred by each other. Our fire can grow dim when we stay apart, so don’t let the pandemic completely isolate you. Find ways to safely connect with your church family so you can encourage and be encouraged in your Christian walk.

Doug Creamer has a new book at Amazon: EncouragingU: Summer Stories. Contact him at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

The Man in the Song

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By Roger Barbee

On a recent evening, my wife and I were sitting on our screened porch watching another hot, summer day simmer to an end over Lake Norman. A CD of the number one songs by Johnny Cash helped our mood as the worn disc moved from favorite song to favorite song .  However, like many things we think we know, I was surprised by a line in one of the songs, a song I know the “history” of and have enjoyed. The line that I seemed to fully comprehend for the first time and that engendered my thinking is, “’Cause there’s something in a Sunday/ Makes a body feel alone…”

In his mournful song, Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down, Kris Kristofferson writes of a  Sunday morning in which a man suffering a hangover tries to make sense of the world. Drinking two beers to help his hangover, he puts on his “cleanest dirty shirt” and goes outside to witnesses the world begin another Sunday—all with him as observer, not participant. Crossing an empty street he smells chicken being fried and laments, “And it took me back to somethin’/ That I’d lost somehow, somewhere along the way.” He continues on his journey to nowhere and with no one by his side.

 Perhaps the song is a memory of Merton College in Oxford where Kristofferson studied as a Rhodes Scholar; maybe it is a story of one of the long nights/mornings he spent as a struggling artist in Nashville during the late 1960’s; or it could be just an anecdote he heard. Whatever! the narrative captures the misery of a life ill spent in whole or parts, but still resulting in regret.

In Thoughts in Solitude Thomas Merton writes, “Violence is not completely fatal until it ceases to disturb us.” Now, we all know (or should) that violence comes in many packages, but no matter how it is wrapped, violence leaves wounds. And the fatal violence Merton writes of is often the result of uncontrolled anger, an addiction, or some other evil cause. Kristofferson is writing of alcoholism and when that violence in a bottle becomes the ordinary of a life it ceases to disturb because it is what has become normal. Then, often too late, the addict becomes like the narrator in the song who smells frying chicken and remembers something lost along the way. That “something” is likely a person or persons and on a Sunday morning all the narrator can do is to numb himself with alcohol and suffer through another day of regret.

On my desk sits a black and white photograph taken in the front yard of my paternal grandparents. The poplar trees in the background are bare, but I know it is Easter Sunday because two cousins knelling in front of the photograph hold their Easter baskets.  My younger brother and sister stand with me and an older sister. Behind my brother is our father who wears a suit jacket, opened-collared shirt, and is looking toward the camera, but his face is full of shadow. The photograph is important for me because our father seldom shared Sundays with us and my two older sisters who are not in the photograph. Years before he had deserted us and our mother, but he is present this day because his parents and siblings had gathered for Easter Sunday. And for whatever reason he posed for the photograph, a stranger standing with his children.

The father in the photograph would understand Kristofferson’s song because he was like the narrator—a man trying to make sense of the world as seen through the violent haze of alcohol. He would keenly understand how a familiar smell could trigger a memory of something that he had lost “somehow, somewhere along the way.” He would intimately know the loneliness of Sundays,  even a special one like this Easter Sunday. But I wonder if the shadow covering his face in the photograph is not a forewarning of the shadow he would feel later after his children had walked to their mother’s home, and he returned to “somewhere along the way.”

Meet Shelia Gillespie

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By David Freeze

Over the years, I’ve written about all types of runners, representing all speeds and all ages. Shelia Gillespie and her husband John are my nearest neighbors below the farm. Still about a third of a mile away, I see her almost every day. Shelia has one of the best local running/walking streaks going right now.

From West Virginia, they moved to N.C. in August 1986 due to lack of work. Shelia said, “I moved to Iredell County and then after quite a few years we were ready to leave Mooresville to find a place in the country. I grew up off a mile long dirt road in Lincoln County, W.V. In November 2001, we did move to Rowan County with cows as my nearest neighbor. Not the case anymore, but I do like being where the houses are not right on top of each other. Everyone around me lives on at least an acre of land and strives to help one another.”

Shelia started walking/running in 2014 and then Daetwyler, the company she works for in Huntersville, started a wellness program that paid for any running/walking event of 5K, 10K, marathon or triathlon. She said, “The longest race I have done is a 10K with three of them now complete. Since the 10Ks always started in the morning, I twice did a 5K the same evening. My first race was in Charlotte with a group of our employees to support the Children’s Levine Hospital. Hooked by that time, I have also completed two Warrior Dash Mud Runs that are so much fun if you like dirt. I’d much rather do my running/walking outside with my dog by my side no matter how far I go, but when the weather does not permit, I am treadmill bound.”

With rheumatoid arthritis, Shelia must give herself two shots every other week. She also has amyloidosis of the bladder to which there is no cure but is manageable. When Shelia’s urologist got the diagnosis back, he had never heard of it. With research, he found that she was one of only 200 in the world to have it in the bladder, Shelia said, “I am not sure the running helps with amyloidosis but I know it does with the RA because just moving helps keep my joints more flexible. You know the old saying ‘a body in motion stays in motion.’”

Shelia was doing sometimes three 5Ks a month and Daetwyler human resources told her that she would be their poster child for the wellness program. With 50 races complete, her next race will be the Salisbury Greenway 5K on July 17 unless something else comes up that isn’t in Charlotte or a virtual race.

Shelia added, “I have become obsessed with my days in a row of walking or running. By Thursday, I had 388 days straight which is a feat in itself. When COVID hit and they sent me to work while sitting at home near the end of March 2020, I decided on June 2, 2020, that I needed to get up and get moving. At first, I was going to try for 30 days, and the goal just kept going up, recently passing a year. When I have to have a medical procedure done, I will get up early in the morning and get on the treadmill. Right now, my goal is 400 days, and I am getting closer I know there will come a time when the streak will end, but I am going to push as long as I can.”

John and Shelia have been married since January 1998. Shelia said, “He is not really into the health thing even though he has issues. If I race close to home or have one in Charlotte, he drives me because I don’t like the traffic. He then participates so he doesn’t have to sit all alone. John will occasionally go out and walk with me on the weekend. We will be doing the Salisbury Greenway Race on the July 17.”

I will bet that Shelia doesn’t stop at 400 days. Check out next Saturday’s Shiloh Missions 5K and the Greenway 5K at www.salisburyrowanrunners.org .

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