A Family Time

by   November 28, 2020 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

My parents were born one day apart in a small town in Pennsylvania. They were born in late November so sometimes their birthdays fall on Thanksgiving weekend. Over the years, because their birthdays fell near Thanksgiving, I often missed seeing them on their big day. This year we were lucky that the two celebrations were at different times.

            My dad likes to get as many of the kids and their spouses together for a nice dinner out. Well, that wasn’t going to happen this year. We planned a nice dinner, take out, at my brother’s house. The food was great and it was a nice time to honor my dad.

My brother always strives to create a memory that will be something special to carry the rest of your life. This year he created a list of questions that we would each have to answer so we would learn something about one another. We shared plenty of laughs, but also some great memories from each other’s lives. Even though we are family, we sometimes miss special moments in each other’s lives. Hearing those stories in the context of love made for a very special evening, indeed.

            Over the years we have done many different things for my mom. One year, when my mom was living up in Virginia, my sister and I drove up to her house and took her out for dinner. It was a very special time we had together, sharing plenty of love and laughter. My sister and I got to spend some great time together in the car, talking and sharing non-stop.

            This year we gathered at my mom’s house and shared a delicious home-cooked meal, prepared by my sister. It was special having us all together, sharing some laughs and hearing more about each other’s lives. After we ate, we helped my mom set up her Christmas tree. My mom loves Christmas and it was fun to help her get the tree set up.

            I am thankful that my family remains close even though we are all separated by many miles. My parents have four children. There are twelve grandchildren, many of whom are now married with children of their own. I have lost count of how many we have now, and there are more on the way. It’s amazing that this big family all started with two people, my parents.

            No family is perfect, but we are still family and we are there for each other. I know that many of you have just spent some time with your family over the Thanksgiving holiday. Hopefully, you were able to enjoy some great food, good fellowship, safe travel, and no sickness. I hate that COVID could mess up so many holiday traditions that involve spending time with family and loved ones. Hopefully, we can all discover ways around it and stay safe, too.

            It is so important that we keep and maintain the connection we have with each other. It isn’t the same if you do it over the phone or through video calls, but it still allows you to connect. Sometimes video calls are the only way to connect when you are miles apart.

            My pastor always likes to share a meal with people. There is something about sitting around a table and just talking that builds bonds. Jesus did it with His disciples. It allows you to be close, to connect on many different levels. Often barriers fall and hearts become more open. There is a kind of intimacy that you experience when you share a meal.

            I know that COVID has thrown a wrench in many holiday plans. If you can’t have a large family gathering, try to have several small ones, perhaps outdoors. If you do, you can spread the celebration out and still enjoy family connections. Sharing the meals, the laughs, and those stories you have heard over and over again, should be cherished; they are memories for a lifetime.

            I want to encourage you to enter this holiday season with joy in your heart. Follow the guidelines, but don’t allow the circumstances to squash the spirit of this wonderful season. Eat the food, enjoy the fellowship – however you have to do it – share some laughs, tell some new stories, and make this a holiday season you will always remember. It’s about family, friends, faith, and hope. It’s about God’s great love for us and us sharing that with each other. This holiday season, regardless of the circumstances, share the love and hope that is in your heart.

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

A Tribute Too Late

by   November 27, 2020 with No Comments

By Roger Barbee

In September, 1968 I left my hometown in North Carolina and traveled to Maryland where I began teaching in a rural county on its Eastern Shore.  Like most recent college graduates, I was eager and knew I was ready to “change the world.” I had four years of learning behind me that I felt had given me all that was necessary to conquer any hurdle that presented itself. I had, as Mark Twain observed, “the confidence of a Christian holding four aces.”  When I arrived to my assigned junior high school, I was not fazed by the number of students assigned for my two 7th grade classes of Language Arts/Social Studies, the poverty of my students, and all the problems their poverty would present. After all, I had my degree, and one of my sisters had helped me carefully choose a small, but versatile wardrobe fitting for a young educator. 

Because this was early in the integration of the county’s schools, the tracking system was used.  In such a system students were placed in classes based on academic scores. My two classes of Language Arts/Social Studies were sections 7-14 and 7-4, one the lowest academic class, and the other near the top of the academic ladder. My 7-14 section met in the morning in the main building, and after lunch 7-4 met in the National Guard Armory directly behind the school.  The racial make-up of the fourteen sections was not surprising—the lower sections were all black and the highest sections were white, and in the middle sections there was some balance of blacks and whites. However, as I mentioned, I was ready to take on any problem of education and to correct it. I do not remember myself as being arrogant, but I was confident.

Many of my sixty odd students were mired in poverty. Before too long I learned how to ignore the odor of clothes worn too often without being washed, or the breath from a mouth that knew no oral hygiene, or the sour stench of urine. I learned how to smile when I gave my Chap Stick to a student who had asked to borrow mine. If returned, I later would drop it into the trash can. I became accustomed to “loaning” lunch money. I learned to deal with any discipline problems in my room and not to send any unruly student to the school office because that short trip would likely result in a paddling of a black student by the white principal or his white assistant. I learned to make two lesson plans for my classes—one that I turned in to the principal, and the one that I used in my room. I learned the value of keeping my classroom door closed to the outside world of the school.

An 8th grade girl that I remember as Joyce taught me a valuable lesson about the influence of parents. One day walking down the main hall, I saw a girl at the water fountain. A substitute teacher was calling for her to return quickly to class, and the girl said, “I will when I am ready, God ….” I took the girl to the office and she was suspended. Two days later I was called to the Guidance Counselor’s office of Mr. Jim Robinson. In his office sat Joyce and a woman with disheveled hair and a loose dress covering her amble frame. I noticed that her shoes were well worn like her dress, and that they did not properly fit her calloused feet. Mr. Robinson informed me that Joyce would be allowed to return to school as soon as she apologized to me. The four of us sat in the small office and Mr. Robinson gently told Joyce to apologize to me so that she could return to school, but she just sat looking down at the floor. Mr. Robinson repeated his request a few times with the same result. Finally, Joyce’s mother reached across the sofa they shared, shook her daughter, and said, “God…., Joyce, apologize to this man.”  I looked to Mr. Robinson and said, “I accept Joyce’s apology” and walked out—never to forget that lesson.

Before September was over, I became aware that, although I had knowledge and skills to offer my students and fellow educators, they had offerings that I needed to accept willingly and with grace. One student named Jerry began calling me only by my last name, but he pronounced it as “Baabe”. However, he said it with affection and respect, so I went with it. I became aware that the more I gave my students, especially the less gifted ones, the more they gave me. The words of my Granny Susie resonated in my ears: “Sugar draws more flies than vinegar,” and I learned that for many of my students, kindness was the most important thing I had to offer them. English and social studies could follow.

Four of my colleagues took me under their care and guided me in how to teach and sometimes more. Irvin and his wife Doris, both teachers a bit older than I, fed me good meals since a young single man would not cook or eat healthy. They also offered me social outlets with their friends, and they tolerated my immature actions by always being a safe harbor where I could lick the wounds that only a young man could inflict on himself.  Frank taught me how to live and enjoy each day as if it were a song or other gift involving music. He was, after all, a music teacher. His attitude concerning life was not trivial, he was old enough to be my father, but he had learned that most events in life were not to be taken too seriously.  Fred, too, was old enough to be my father, and he had a “lazy eye” that took me some time to become accustomed to. A large, imposing man, he was an assistant principal, but his office was down the main hallway away from the main office. He taught me how to politically navigate a school and how to avoid conflicts with the administration. He was wise in the way of schools and men. He shared with me all the wisdom of his that I could absorb. But Jim Robinson, the guidance counselor, taught me the biggest lesson of all.

Somewhere in my early months, and for some unknown reason, I began carrying a yard stick. I would use it as a pointer to the chalkboard, tap it on the floor to gain the attention of my students, lean on it when stressing a point or correcting a student’s behavior, or just carry it in my hand as if it were a sword and I a young officer. I don’t remember how long I carried the yard stick, but I will never forget Jim Robinson asking me to come into his office one day during my free period.

After we had settled, Jim asked me about the yard stick and why I carried it. I gave him the best reasons that I could, some of which I have mentioned. He then went on to tell me that my 7-14 students, the ones who had class with me in the main building, came from extremely poor homes. I told him that I was aware of that, but what was his point. He then explained to me how the poverty of their homes meant that their parents were usually uneducated, frustrated by their life circumstances, and sometimes heavy drinkers. He went on to explain that many of the fathers and some mothers were crude and that my students had grown up in brutal environments. Parents like these, he went on to explain, thought little of beating one of my students with a limb or stick or hand. For so many of my students, he said, life at home could be mean, and often the safest place for them was school. I asked Jim what that had to do with me, and he looked at me and said, “The yard stick, Roger. Your students see it as a weapon in your hand. It will make them fear you.” Stunned, I sat for quite a while with Jim in his office, and having taken in all his words and their importance, I thanked him and went to my classroom down the hall and put the yard stick in the room closet. Then Jim surprised me again when a few days later he came into my room and thanked me for listening and explained that our conversation was a rare in his experience.

In The Odyssey, the young Telemakhos, the son of Odysseus, has Mentor, a comrade of his father, to guide him. I, too, had my Mentors who were black and they took a young, idealistic white man in their care and worked to help him understand things about living and teaching. And as I look back over these near fifty years since that fall of 1968 and write about them, I thank them for their patience, wisdom, and willingness to share their craft with a young man. They taught me much, but most of all they taught me, as we say in teaching literature, the point-of-view–to see every “yard stick” through the eyes of a child.

Thank you, Irvin and Doris, Frank, Fred, and Jim.

Just Ask

by   November 25, 2020 with No Comments

By Ed Traut

Proverbs 2:6 For the LORD gives wisdom, and from his mouth come knowledge and understanding.

  • So often in life we just need a little insight.
  • Knowledge is acquired, but wisdom is a gift from God.
  • All we have to do is ask….. Let us then continue to ask for wisdom and God’s understanding.

Prayer:  Teach me Your ways Lord,  that I may gain wisdom continually I pray and bless my life with Your wisdom and Your understanding that I can be an instrument in Your hands continually.  Amen.
 

Ed Traut
Prophetic Life

An Incredible October Odyssey

by   November 23, 2020 with No Comments

By David Freeze

Sometimes circumstances come together for something big. That’s just what happened for Lorie and Mark Cauble over an incredible month. I got to play a small part in this journey and it’s certainly worth sharing.

Lorie started running with the 2014 Greenway 5K where her second-place age group finish led to lots of other 5Ks and another second-place finish in her age group in an 8K. She pushed it up a notch and competed in the Mayberry Half Marathon followed by her first marathon in Myrtle Beach in March 2019.

Mark started running when he enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1990. Nearly every day for almost nine years, Mark ran at least three miles a day. After ending his active duty in 1999, he quit running all together.

After getting married in November 2019, Mark and Lorie were already enjoying long hikes when Mark mentioned doing the Marine Corps Marathon together. He said, “2020 would be a great time to do this because our daughter, Jenna Cauble, had been in the Marine Corps for six years already and was finally going to be stationed close to D.C. around the marathon date.”

The Caubles found out that a lottery was required to even get into the event. They both applied and a few weeks later were selected to run the 45th MCM. Lorie said, “That was a great day! We were both so excited! Then, reality started to set in, and we were on the clock to get ready. Sometime after the virus shutdowns, we learned the event would be virtual. We were bummed at first but decided to embrace this opportunity to improvise, adapt, and overcome.”

The MCM organizers also offered another opportunity to do a Trifecta, not only the marathon but a 10K and 50K. All would be virtual, meaning that Mark and Lorie could do the distance on any course within the month of October. Mark said, “Why not? We decided to go big or go home. We may never get this chance again.”

They did the 10K (6.2 miles) in Salisbury on Oct. 3, a day already scheduled for a long run, and then tacked on another 12 miles for training.

The marathon (26.2 miles) followed on Oct. 17. Mark said, “It would have been nice to run in D.C. and finish at the Marine Corps Memorial, but we got the next best thing. Our daughter, Sgt. Jenna Cauble, enlisted some help from her former commanding officer Capt. Kristen Baldwin (five-time MCM participant) to help us facilitate our run. They really motivated us and made it a memorable and special occasion.”

And finally the 50K in Virginia. Just five days after the marathon, was completed on the Virginia Creeper Trail on Oct. 22. Lorie said, “No pressure, just us and the mountain. This was a disaster! We had no trail experience, and it was our first time running with hydration packs and we had no support. We are glad it’s done, but you probably won’t see us on a trail again for that long.”

Mark added, “The biggest and most important takeaway is how much we love each other and share so many similar interests. We got up on weekends to do long runs at 3 a.m. to drive an hour and then run to avoid the sun and summer heat as much as possible. Nothing beats seeing the sun rise while running alongside a river with the person you love. We depend on each other for motivation, especially on a morning when one of us didn’t want to run. In the end, we drove each other across the finish line and have the rest of our lives to continue pushing each other to be better.”

Lorie concluded, “We found difficulty in juggling everyday life and staying on a grueling schedule with sometimes painful tasks, making the journey all the more rewarding when finished.” They plan to do mainly 5Ks and 10Ks while Mark needs a half marathon and an 8K to match Lorie.

Rowan’s next race is the always popular Butterball 5K on Thanksgiving morning, held this year at Salisbury Community Park. Look for this and other upcoming races at www.salisburyrowanrunners.org .

Ring the Bell

by   November 22, 2020 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

It was early in my COVID journey. Our family was quarantined. We did not ask for help. But others listened to their hearts, as God placed it in their spirit to help us. They began to emerge in our emergency.

The doorbell rang. Food had been delivered to feed our family of five. The next day the doorbell rang again — food had been delivered. And the next day. It continued for two weeks.

They were my friends, family, church members, coworkers, and sometimes people I barely knew. They had been sending thoughts and prayers our way daily, but decided to physically show up to our door to make sure we had what we needed. The doorbell would ring — and home-cooked food, take out meals, and groceries were waiting for us there — on our porch.

It was a time that I truly experienced the concept of someone being the hands and feet of Jesus, for that is exactly what these doorbell ringers were.

Emerge can mean to come into view. Although they would ring the doorbell and get back in their car, they had chosen to emerge to bless our family at our front door during our time of emergency.

I really did not understand it. I could not explain it. Why would they make that sacrifice of time and money for us? It felt surreal. It felt as if God were right there with us each time the doorbell rang, so that we could know that his presence was not just with us in our home, but surrounding us by those outside our home.

My 13-year-old put it in perspective one day as he said, “It used to be that anytime someone came down our street, we knew they were not coming to our house. Now every car that comes down our street is coming to our house.”

Those words helped me to picture it vividly, for I was still isolated in my room. I only heard the ring of the doorbell daily. I never really saw the people, but I knew they had been sent by the father. It was a beautiful thing for my family to witness.

I have done the same for others at times, but not as often as I should have. Until it was done for me, I am not sure I realized the power of compassion. I am not sure I realized the power of love in action. I am not sure I realized the power of food — or an offer of help, or a flower, or a card, or a prayer, or a phone call, or a message, or the knowledge that anyone I know would have gladly emerged in my emergency to be a help to our family.

Friendships sure do matter. True friends can go for extended lengths of time without talking to or physically seeing one another. But in case of an emergency, you sure can count on them to emerge.

What better way than to emerge with food, right? (I am just kidding. Or am I?) That sure was how we felt every time the doorbell rang.

Love in action.

The hands and feet of Jesus.

Serve him. Serve others.

Ring the doorbell.

Lord, when someone needs us, help us to not just be their friend on social media, in the workplace, in the church, or even at the ballgame, but help us be a friend that will emerge in a time of emergency, bringing help and hope to those around us. May we remember to ring the doorbell. Amen.

Ann Farabee is a teacher, writer and speaker. Contact her at  annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com .

Happy Thanksgiving

by   November 21, 2020 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

The weather has begun to cool down and the leaves are almost all down. The signals are all around; it is about time for eating season to arrive. We have some wonderful holidays at this time of year that celebrate delicious food. I have to say that I am thankful for all the good food that we will soon be enjoying.

            The trouble I see is getting all the people together to eat all this wonderful food. This year we are facing restrictions surrounding gatherings. The good part about the gatherings is everyone brings their favorite recipes. So we eat delicious food and then we get to spend time talking with some family and good friends. With the gathering restrictions that are in place, how will that affect the Thanksgiving feast?

            Both sides of my family are planning “different” gatherings. There will be some people and some of the good food, but not all the people with all the good food. We’re not exactly sure what we are going to do. We will eat some good food, wash some dishes…another tradition for the holidays…and I will find a paper to look at all the Black Friday sales.

            I am looking forward to watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. I thought they might cancel it, but have read that it will go on, but look different. We have to see all the big balloons going down the streets of New York. I guess the crowds will be smaller, but I am not sure how you will keep people away from such a fun and traditional event.

            I hope that nothing will stand in the way of one of the most important traditions from Thanksgiving. It is one day when we as Americans stop and reflect on the things for which we are most thankful. While COVID has been such a bad negative in our lives this year, there are still so many things that we can reflect back on with great thanks.

            The first thing that pops into my mind is that many families have had more time together. I have heard people talking about playing family games and watching movies together. We have watched more movies together and enjoyed more quiet meals at home. We have actually been wondering if we will even want to go back to eating out again.

            This year I have developed a deeper appreciation for my wife and my family. My wife and I have spent more quality time together and enjoyed each other’s company. I was glad when the restrictions lifted and I could see my mom again. I have had more lunches with my brother and sister than I have in many years. I have taken the opportunity to see my dad a little more often, too. Family is so important and I am thankful for mine.

            One thing that I have really enjoyed this year is reading. I have read more books this year than in any previous year of my life. Having the time and opportunity to read and enjoy books has been such a great blessing. I have also discovered some new authors.

            I have been especially thankful for my church during this crazy COVID year. We have worked hard to live within the restrictions and yet try to connect with each other. My pastor constantly challenges us to be wise, but not to live in fear. The truth is we need each other, now more than ever. I hope you are finding ways to stay connected to your church family.

            This year I have found myself more thankful for little things. The warmth of the sunshine, the sound of rain falling, flowers, hummingbirds, fall colors, and seeing the birds at the birdfeeder. I have enjoyed the peacefulness of sitting on my porch or going for a walk. We have developed new routines of getting food in on Friday and Saturday nights and watching movies. I am rediscovering that simple things can bring great pleasure.

            I want to encourage you to take a few moments and think about all the ways God has truly blessed you this year. I will be the first to admit that COVID has changed our lives, but that shouldn’t stop any of us from giving thanks to God. God loves to hear our hearts rejoice and giving thanks. A thankful heart and attitude can change our perspective on life. God is good. He deserves our thanks and praise. However you are choosing to celebrate Thanksgiving, don’t forget to spend a few moments giving thanks.

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

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