Autumn Resurrection

by   October 15, 2023 with No Comments

By Ashlie Miller

While many proclaim the joys of autumn, for others, the fall brings a sense of dread of living through dark, cold isolation. I can recall dreading the season when I lived in a house with fewer windows than I have now, feeling suffocated by the lack of light. 

While reading through the Gospel of John with our church in both large gatherings and small groups recently, I came to a scene of such darkness and hopelessness. I wonder if you can relate. 

It had been dark – not just that early morning, not just at midday a couple of days before – but in the atmosphere of the brothers, those who had followed closely. Though Jesus communicated that He would not be the political messiah or social justice warrior their people longed for to ease their pain, they still hoped there would be more. Mary Magdalene had also followed closely, watching the One who had forgiven her, radically changed her, and truly loved her give sight to the blind, heal the sick, and even raise the dead. Perhaps she had also hoped with wonder at this strange idea of a “the kingdom.” But no, all that was gone – brutally killed and buried. 

Wrecked with grief, she does the one thing she can to continue serving Jesus, going through the motions of ministering to Him, even if it were an empty charade now. It was still dark – at the tomb and in her spirit – but surely it could not get worse. Wait! The immovable rock sealing the tomb has been moved. Had someone arrived before her, stepping into the cherished role of caring for His body? NO! His body is missing! She runs to the disciples, hoping they can help her make sense of this tragedy upon a tragedy. As two of them have their own experience at the tomb, Mary is still perplexed, unable to understand it all now. Absorbed in tears that further cloud her mind and vision, she sits outside the grave, squinting to see men in white sitting in the tomb. One asks why she weeps. Choking down tears as she tries to call out His name, she can only say that she does not know who has taken her Lord and where they have laid Him. 

Then, another man, coming out from among the flowers, asks why the tears and for whom she is looking. Again, she pleads for answers so she can serve, the one thing that can bring her joy at this point. Then, with clarity, this gardener, this tender of the soil and growing, living things, says one simple word – “Mary.” The name was common enough during that time, but the One speaking it makes the difference. She knows that voice and realizes the speaker knows her. He is not dead! Hope is not lost! The darkest night and morning are over! Though gentle and lowly in heart, He is the mighty conquering victor over death and the grave! 

Things are very different now. No longer needlessly going through the motions of service, she can serve joyfully at promises fulfilled, hope and peace being present in a Person. 

It may seem odd to write about the resurrection in autumn. But in a season marked with things fading and a future glimpse of the coming season marked by little to no life, you may be painfully reminded of a personal season marked with much darkness, sadness, and loneliness. Your judgment is off. You want to believe what you know is true, but so much in your face screams otherwise. Tears are not cleansing – they are clouding. Take heart – the Lord sees and is not far off. Cry out those tears of honesty and frustration! He hears. He will call your name soon. Continue to serve. It may seem routine, but it is the best thing you can do now. Recall God’s past faithfulness to His promises.

However, remember the only way to recall what is true is to abide in the truth. God’s Word is that unchanging, life-giving Truth. 

Ashlie Miller is wife to Chad (a pastor in Charlotte) and homeschooling mom to five children in Concord, NC. You may contact her at ashliemiller.com. 

The Opportunity

by   October 14, 2023 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            I started a painting project over the weekend. Our front door was a stained wood. At one time it was a beautiful door but over the years the sun has faded its beauty. We have a wood storm door that I sanded and stained a number of years ago. Time and the sun have faded my work on the storm door, too. It’s time for a fresh look. The trouble is deciding which color to paint the door when you are looking at a computer screen or a small sample.

            Over the weekend I worked on sanding, repairing damaged spots, and priming the door. It is also important to properly clean and prepare the surface. My least favorite part of painting is the taping. I don’t understand why I dislike taping so much because in the end it saves so much cleanup work. In the end, I think it took more time to prep the surface than it did to actually prime it.

            We are on our way to a fresh new look for our front door. I am excited to see how it turns out. I believe we are going to like it. There are some other painting projects that need attention around here. I am hoping this motivates me to get going on some of them.

            I have been thinking about the significance of doors recently. I read a book where the author asked the reader to consider the color of the door of their heart. I have never considered such a thing and have imagined several colors for my heart’s door. I am not sure what each color signifies but I hope the Lord finds the color pleasing and the door open for Him.

            I enjoy going for walks in my community, and not just because my doctor thinks I need to walk. Often my neighbors will be out working in their yards or just sitting out enjoying the beautiful day. We exchange pleasantries, which is nice. Sometimes, if I have a few moments, I will stop and meet the people who live in my community. We are lucky to have such great neighbors in our community.

            As I meet more and more neighbors on my walks, I have been thinking about doors of opportunity. I wonder if God is opening doors of opportunity to share my faith with people I meet. It is important that we be sensitive to God’s leading and look for those opportunities to be light in this dark world.

            I will ask people if they have a church they call home. Some people light up talking about their church family and their pastors. By the way, thank you to all the pastors out there serving and loving your flocks. Your members love and appreciate you more than you realize. Anyway, these people who light up about their church will invite me to join them.  

            I will invite others who don’t have a church home to come to mine. I love my church family. We are always open to adopting new members. Being connected to a church family is important to spiritual growth. God wants you to be receiving, giving, and serving in a local church body. You have important spiritual gifts that are needed in the Kingdom.

            More important than being connected to a church is your personal connection to your Father in Heaven. Is the door of your heart open for Him to come in? Have you established and built a relationship with your Heavenly Father through Jesus? He wants to know you and wants you to know Him. You are invited to Heaven and to be in the family of God, but you have to accept the invitation and welcome the Creator into your heart. Otherwise you will miss being in the heavenly community when your time comes.

            I want to encourage you to open the door of your heart today and receive the invitation into the family of God. He has a place and a purpose for you. It is the most critical decision you will ever make. Please don’t put it off. When I go for a walk around heaven, I want to stop at your house and meet you. Heaven will be a far greater community than any of us can imagine. The door will soon close and the opportunity will be over; open the door of your heart and invite Him in while there is still time. Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

The Written Word

by   October 13, 2023 with No Comments

By Roger Barbee

A few days ago I  asked my friend Mike to “Google” God Bless the USA Bible and read an article about the forthcoming Bible. After he did, we discussed this new edition of the Bible. He said, “I  don’t see anything wrong with it, Roger.” Our conversation has caused me to think about the specialty bible by Hugh Kirkpatrick.  which can be pre-ordered for $49.99, and it will include a copy of the Bill of Rights, the U.S. Constitution, the Declaration of Independence, the Pledge of Allegiance, and the chorus of God Bless the USA. as written and performed by Lee Greenwood.  release is scheduled to correspond with the twenty-year anniversary of September 11, 2001, and will use the King James Version.

This edition of the Bible is not the first to be issued in a specialty version or in a newer format or translation. Over the years Bibles have been printed that are designed for certain interest groups such as NASCAR fans or “easy to read” translations, or Bibles that have resources especially for women, men, or children. There are “journaling Bibles” that have additional margins for personal notes. There is even a Parallel Bible that has a column in the KJV translation beside a column in the NIV translation. I even have one titled The Other Bible, Ancient Alternative Scripture and have examined many editions marketed as specific studies, such as the Jimmy Swagart Study Bible.

Hugh Kirkpatrick and Lee Greenwood and all the others involved in this new venture are entitled to publish a new edition of the Bible. The folks who have already pre-ordered a copy are also free to do as they have. But I carry a caution when I read about a Bible that is aimed at any specialty group. Perhaps a Bible edited for a specific group, such as men, is of greater help than a pure NIV, KJV, or other edited ones and if one of these printed Bibles helps anyone be a better Christian, then that is good.

However! I wonder how the God Bless the USA Bible,  by itself, will help any purchaser be a better citizen or better Christian? Does a purchaser think that having a Bible with the Pledge of Allegiance between the same covers as Paul’s Letters to the Corinthians will make him or her better at either? Also, there is the danger of a confusion taking place between country and Christ.

This new version of the Bible by Kirkpatrick is less than he says because the intent preys on a certain political outlook. To print a Bible with documents for civil authority is  nothing but a ploy to get purchasers to think that they are now better patriots and citizens when in fact they may be less because of such arrogance.

But the best comment on editions of the Bible is the one made by Pastor G. Bowers one Sunday when he was preaching about the need for Christians to read, study, and follow the Written Word: “It makes no difference what translation you have if you don’t read it.”

Amen.

More County Visits

by   October 12, 2023 with No Comments

By David Freeze

With seven eastern counties and Rowan left, I have been anxious to get back at it. I planned one long trip to the Outer Banks to finish them. Four of the county seats had been on my run across the state. First up on Sept. 26 was Williamston, the first of the Inner Banks towns. Williamston is the county seat of Martin County. It was founded in 1779 as Williamston five years after it was recognized as Tar Landing in 1774. Williamston was named after William Williams, a local military hero. The Martin County Courthouse was built in 1885.

The town is on the Roanoke River which helped make the town a trade center. The railroad came to town and the town flourished with both river and rail traffic. The one-mile Skewarkee Trail connects downtown and a riverside boardwalk on the Roanoke River via a converted railroad bed. The paved trail is used by bicyclists, walkers, skaters and others.

Pitcher Gaylord Perry, a member of the Baseball Hall of Fame, and his brother Jim, also a professional baseball pitcher, were born here.

My second stop was Plymouth, one of my favorite towns and part of the Inner Banks while also on the Roanoke River. Plymouth is just eight feet above sea level. I actually visited Plymouth twice before. My Atlantic coast cycling journey went through Plymouth as did my run across N.C. I started with the downtown area which includes the 1918 Martin County Courthouse, last built in 1918 and still in use. Three previous courthouse buildings had been destroyed by fire, twice during the Civil War.

Established in 1787, the town is thought to be named Plymouth because ships from Plymouth, Massachusetts, often stopped at the town port.

Plymouth has the historical distinction of being the site of the second-largest Civil War battle in North Carolina and its last Confederate victory in 1864. The Confederate ironclad warship CSS Albemarle helped win the battle but then sank on Oct. 27, 1864, while moored at a dock in Plymouth. Throughout the old town are historical signs concerning movements of both sides during the 1864 battle.

Union forces captured the town in May 1862, and the Confederate forces won it back in December of the same year but withdrew shortly afterward. The Confederate forces took Plymouth back in April 1864 and the Union recaptured the town in October of that year. Only 11 buildings are still standing from the pre-Civil War period due to burning and heavy bombardment.

Another notable landmark is the Roanoke River Lighthouse which was erected by the U.S. Lighthouse Service in 1866. The Port of Plymouth Museum is said to be first class and a 3/8 scale model of the CSS Albemarle, the most successful ironclad in the war, floats behind it in the river. Maybe on my fourth visit to the town, I will tour the museum which is housed in an old train depot.

South of Plymouth was my next stop, Swan Quarter. I had never visited this area and was surprised at the huge amount of corn and soybeans being grown locally. Interesting were the continuous water drainage ditches beside the roads and plenty of water standing in the fields of crops ready for harvest.

Swan Quarter is the county seat of Hyde County. The 1855 courthouse and jail still stand, with the modern courthouse just behind it. In the 18th century, Samuel Swann settled along the Pamlico Sound near the head of Swan Bay. Swann’s Quarter was the first name given to this settlement. Eventually shortened to Swan Quarter, it became the county seat in 1836.

Fishing, oystering and crabbing are staples for the small town. Dozens of fishing boat carcasses line the marina. The first church built in the town broke loose from its foundation in a major storm and floated down Main Street before colliding with the general store and ended up on a lot that the townspeople originally wanted, but the owner wouldn’t sell. He did sell after seeing the likelihood of God’s hand in its movement. The historic Swan Quarter Baptist Church had its doors open to the public while I toured the town.

The last stop of the day was Columbia, another Inner Banks town. One of my most harrowing nights happened here on my run across the state. I had a group scheduled to meet me at Nag’s Head fishing pier later that day. Never having done more than 32 miles a day, I started at 4 a.m. in the total dark on an Easter Sunday. Two residents told me not to do that because, “This is black bear territory!” The total darkness worried me some wondering what was watching me until daylight came. I did complete 42 miles and finished the journey that day.

Originally called Elizabethtown, the town was established on the banks of the Scuppernong River in 1793 and became the Tyrrell County seat in 1799. The Indians called the area “the place of the sweet bay tree.” A waterfront boardwalk exists today.

The name of the town was changed to Columbia in 1801, to avoid confusion with another Elizabethtown in Bladen County. The courthouse was built in 1903 and is still in use. Locals have subsisted on mercantile trade, milling, and maritime occupations including boat building. The lumber and logging industry have also been important.

Holy Spirit Leading

by   October 11, 2023 with No Comments

By Ed Traut

Acts 16:6 Paul and his companions traveled throughout the region of Phrygia and Galatia, having been kept by the Holy Spirit from preaching the word in the province of Asia.

  • God continually leads us when we pay attention to Him.
  • Sometimes His leading is above our understanding – they were kept from preaching.
  • Even though it is God’s will for people to hear the gospel, there is a timing.  As we follow Him we learn about God’s timing.

Prayer:  Lord, I do yield to Your time and Your understanding and obey without question what You ask of me.  I pray Holy Spirit that You lead me that I can be fruitful and productive for His kingdom.  I belong to Him in every way and I bless His holy name.  Amen.
 

Ed Traut
Prophetic Life

Who’s Your Mama?

by   October 10, 2023 with No Comments

By Lynna Clark

I’ve never been one to decorate for Christmas early. In fact, for many years Christmas reminded me of the year my mom died during that holiday. Our family barely functioned as we went through the season like zombies. However just lately, I thought about getting a new tree while there’s still plenty of time. Then someone posted on Facebook that anyone thinking about Christmas this early should just stop that crazy because “Joseph don’t even know Mary’s pregnant yet.”
Made me laugh.


Then my thoughts went to Mary. Bless her sweet heart. Apparently she was highly favored and yet even she asked, “How can this be?” I love that Scripture includes that.


Another favorite woman of mine in the Bible is Rahab. Bless her not so innocent heart. Her name is always tagged with “the harlot.” As if somebody missed that about her. Shesh. Not that I would presume to correct Scripture, but holy cow. Could we not at least include, “the woman formerly known as…”? Again, bless her heart. I guess it wouldn’t matter. She’ll always be THAT woman…


Except that the Lord fixed it.


Have you heard the story of Ruth and Naomi? It’s about a faithful gentile widow Ruth, who was so devoted to her husband’s Jewish mother, Naomi, that she followed her into a foreign land so that she could take care of her. Naomi herself admitted to being less than easy to live with. She called herself “bitter.” Soooo… not a peach. Anyway, God provided for Ruth and her bitter old mother-in-law by sending a faithful man to marry Ruth. Here’s where it gets fun.


Guess who Ruth’s new mother-in-law was? Yep. Good ol’ worldly, pagan, been around the block Rahab. Oy vey. I bet that made for some interesting Sunday lunches.


Personally I find myself between faithful, godly, innocent Mary the mother of Jesus and Rahab been-around-the-block-harlot. Not near as good as Mary, but not all that bad either. Therefore I think it’s wise to remember. If God can use the best of the best, and the worst of the worst, can He not use me, Lynna the Whinybutt? Even in my weakness He sees me as the one He created to serve a purpose. For His glory I was made for good things. How amazing is His grace. I would love to sit with Mary and hear the story of how things worked out in her life. But I really think Rahab had some stories to tell! Maybe that’s why she’s listed as “the harlot.” Perhaps God wanted to let us identify with a less than model citizen.


As for us regular Joes and Janes, “We are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.” -Ephesians 2:10


Sidenote: For more about how Rahab saved her family, read Joshua chapter 2. To see her place in the lineage of the Messiah, see Matthew 1:5.

Now let’s go order a Christmas tree before it is eternally too late.

A Moment that Mattered

by   October 9, 2023 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

For a split second, I was almost in trouble at school.

Shocking, I know.

Thankfully, it was a false alarm.

When my sixth grade teacher instructed the class to line up, I would always scurry to be first. Then I would work diligently to make sure everyone else lined up in a straight line!

I am sure my teacher appreciated my efforts.

After finishing our daily work, we were supposed to read a book. I was excellent at reading books, but some students talked when they were supposed to be reading. I made sure to keep an eye on them as I read, just in case the teacher did not notice that they were not following the instructions.

Sometimes, I got to take names when the teacher left the room. It was quite an honor and I was insistent on doing it right. Well, sort of. I could possibly be coerced at times — especially by cute boys. I would write their name on the chalkboard and then erase it several times because their behavior improved slightly. Or was it because they were begging me? Overall, I would say I was not too bad as a name-taker. Usually by the time the teacher came back, I had erased all the names I had written on the board.

One day, my streak of being a perfect student was put in jeopardy. While everyone was supposed to be reading, I pulled out some secret papers I kept hidden in my desk. It was my life’s secret work, for I was writing a best seller on notebook paper, front and back, about being on tour with the Beatles — John, Paul, George and Ringo.

One day, as I was minding my own business at my desk, there she stood — my teacher — reaching for my stapled papers. Tears filled my eyes because I knew she would rip them in half and throw them in the trash can like I had seen her do many times when she retrieved items from other students.

She flipped through the precious pages that held my Beatles Best Seller. She took it to her desk. She sat down. She was reading it! I also noticed that big trash can beside her desk where she threw away items she had confiscated from her students. I was not hopeful about the outcome of this situation.

It was an incredibly long wait. Front and back. Page after page. She kept reading. I was fearfully awaiting the thump I would hear when my papers hit the teacher’s trash can. But it didn’t happen. What I feared would be placed in the trash can actually became a life-defining moment. She called me to her desk, placed those precious pages back in my hands, and looked me in the eyes as she said, “You are a good writer.”

I can guarantee that no one — not even the meanest kid in the class — could have wiped that smile off my face. From my teacher, I had heard the words “good” and “writer” in the same sentence about what I had written. I never finished writing my book. It ended up in my closet. I suppose I eventually threw it away.

But you cannot throw away the words of affirmation from my teacher that were inevitably etched in my 11-year-old mind, “You are a good writer.” Those five words created a moment that mattered.

I wish I had known enough to smile a little that day when I heard those words from my teacher as she envisioned a bit of my future that I lacked the confidence to even begin to imagine.

Someone thought I was a good writer, and they took the time to tell me so. Those words from a teacher mattered. Those words began to change the trajectory of my life.

What if she had tossed my writing in the trash can and reprimanded me because I was supposed to be reading? But she did not. She chose to not only read it, but also to respond to it.

A few weeks later, I published (made copies on the copy machine) our first edition of 6th Grade News at Woodrow Wilson School.

Our words matter. Our actions matter. Sometimes they may change a life.

Are our words ordained by God?

Can our lives be shaped by God through circumstances or words? The answer is yes!

In creation, God brought everything into existence, shaped it for His purpose and called it good.

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

Lessons from the Autumn of Life

by   October 8, 2023 with No Comments

By Ashlie Miller

Along with crimson reds, warm embers, intensely deep purple leaves, fruits and berries, and pecans & acorns, autumn also brings teachable moments in the brown falling leaves, the winds, and the rains. Many life lessons can be learned in autumn related to change and life cycles. The season provides small examples of how to gently present to children the idea of overwhelming topics like aging and death.

When my teens were very young, I came across this quote: “Youth is like spring, an over-praised season more remarkable for biting winds than genial breezes. Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers, we more than gain in fruits.” ~Samuel Butler

When was the last time you stopped to value those in the autumn of their lives? The quote above reflects that embrace. We praise the young for their input and seeming knowledge in our society. We glorify, edify, and value all things in youth culture. Yet, in the passion and ambition of the young, often “biting winds” knock over everything in their path. I was guilty of that as a young teen and adult, viewing those over middle age who appear mellower to have given up, trading vigor for apathy or compromising their passion.

I recall when I was a young parent with little boys eager to venture on an autumn nature walk in the neighborhood. One neighbor had several pecan trees, and we picked up a few from the ground and even from the tree for observation. What a lesson we were about to learn about life and people!

With apologies to columnist Darrell Blackwelder, the actual horticulturalist, I humbly share our observations. Not knowing much about harvesting pecans then, I assumed that anything we saw – green nuts on the tree, fallen nuts on the ground – was all up for grabs and ready to taste. We learned the hard way – pecans are only edible the closer it gets to what looks like rotting (at least to an unlearned observer). Never eat the pecan straight from the tree when it is green – you can’t! It is tough getting into the green casing or husk. If you succeed, the nut is not mature. However, a cracked, wrinkly shell is on the verge of a real treasure.

I learned a lesson that day that I have kept with me and changed how I spend time with people. Spending time with the young as a sounding board is essential as they journey with passion and ignorance. In remembering where I was, I can value where I am and share with them. But what a treasure to spend time with those in autumn years who have perhaps mellowed some but have sweet wisdom!

Titus 2:1-8 provides instruction on that very thing – the older spending time with the younger – both learning and teaching. Consider making space this week to grab coffee with someone outside your age bracket. You may teach or learn something valuable.

Ashlie Miller is grateful to the green ones who pull her out of her routine and share their passion along with their woes as well as the ripe ones who have a sweetness to savor and wisdom to share.

Fall Beauty

by   October 7, 2023 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            As a teacher at the community college, my goal is to help my students pass the reading and language arts portion of the GED test. Much of the material I knew, but some of it I had to re-learn because I had forgotten over the years. I had some great teachers in high school. I have grown to have a deeper appreciation for their deposits in my life.

            One topic we cover in class is symbolism. Writers include certain images or words because they are symbolic to the reader. In old westerns, the guys in black hats were the bad guys and the guys in white hats were the good guys. Red roses symbolize love. You get the idea.

I have been struggling with one particular symbolic interpretation. Spring is a new beginning, a fresh start. I understand that one. But why does fall have to signal the end? A character’s health is declining, and the leaves are falling off the trees. We all know that the writer is telling us the character will soon depart. Even worse, the character departs as the first snowflakes begin to fall. I think symbolism is giving fall and winter a black eye.

            I love fall. I am so glad when summer’s relentless heat finally gives way to some cooler air. When fall arrives I feel rejuvenated and enjoy being outside working in the yard. I look for ways to extend the gardening season. I have some of the best looking beans I have ever grown…please don’t tell the deer or rabbits.

            Fall is a wonderful time. I admit I don’t like putting the garden to bed. I understand that winter is coming. But there is still plenty of work to do outside, including planting flowering bulbs for next spring. I walked through a garden center today and was captivated by the aroma of pansies and violas. There is still so much to enjoy outside, especially since we don’t have to put up with the heat and humidity.

            I am anxiously waiting for the changing of the leaves. I love seeing the beauty of nature as the leaves turn such spectacular colors. Many times I have stopped and taken in the breathless beauty. I do admit that I am not too much of a fan of raking all the beautiful leaves once they fall to the ground. But walking through crunching leaves is another joy of fall.

            I know that the tasks of fall are all in preparation for winter. I don’t like the shorter days. I can also get the winter blues with the best of them. I know there are some tasks I don’t want to do: rake the leaves, clean out the gutters, clean the weeds out of the vegetable garden, and rake more leaves. But there is so much to enjoy in the cooler temperatures and the beauty of nature that I don’t want to miss. Fall, like each season, has its beauty and wonder.

            The trouble is we can’t escape the correlation between seasonal fall and the fall of our lives. I look in the mirror and realize that I am entering the fall of life. The white beard and the salt and pepper on my head are inescapable. Time is creeping…I mean speeding by. But I really don’t think we need to look at the fall of our lives in a negative way.

            With age comes wisdom. Hopefully as I age I have also escaped the mistakes and pressures of youth. I am a more seasoned person and hopefully a more seasoned Christian. I am not suggesting that I don’t make mistakes, I make plenty of them. I am suggesting that age gives us wisdom about how to handle situations, an understanding that setbacks and problems will come and go, and to savor the good things in life like friendships, love, faith, joy, and the beauty of the changing of the season.

            I want to encourage you to embrace whatever season of life this column finds you in. Youth is great because our energy seems boundless. The prime of life is sweet except it goes by so quickly. The fall of life offers us the opportunity to take in the beauty all around us. Yes, we are going to have to adjust to some changes, but don’t let them stop you from living and enjoying life. The final season, our golden years, are not reached by all of us. It’s our opportunity to treasure life and those we love. Some trees are beginning to show their color and I am choosing to watch the glory and splendor of nature each and every day.

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

Hope

by   October 6, 2023 with No Comments

By Roger Barbee

Hope

            The pandemic rages across every level of world lives. Even isolated villages and towns now feel its presence. In the United States we are a few days from electing another cycle of government leaders, including a president, while European leaders try to make hard decisions to combat the virus. We are bombarded by noise that is masked as news worthy information. The editorial in our local paper today asked: “Are you tired of…?” and then went on to list many of the noises we have be subjected to during the pandemic and its affects.

Yes, we are tired, but we have quite a distance to travel. In a marathon, racers train to be able to maintain pace and form during the last 6.2 miles, the crucial last miles which begin at mile 20. Metaphorically that is where we are: Mile 20 of a marathon and where our preparation and resolve will now be tested. 

As a teacher of literature, I always chose to expose students to stories and poems and novels and plays that taught a lesson. A brief poem such as Earl carries a lesson that, once learned, will help in difficult times that we all will encounter. Like the well-trained marathoner, a well-read person will have an arsenal to call upon during tough times as now. Having digested such great literature as The Odyssey, a person can use lessons gleaned from Homer’s words to help him or her to carry on; to  “Get on with it,” as the English haberdasher told me one summer  in his store on Oxford’s Turl Street. The list of such literature is long, but sadly forgotten it seems to me. But that is another matter for another essay.

Like all people, I am tired of the turmoil and the uncertainty of this pandemic and our dithering leaders. However, a retired man of 74 living with his wife, five cats, and two hounds on Lake Norman, I have had to cope with only some inconvenience, but nothing like that of a parent with school-aged children and a job or, worse, not a job. These people are facing a difficult circumstance which I am happy not to have to navigate. But I still was reminded of the poem Ithaca by C.P. Cavafy this week because of the death of  Sean Connery and his connection with the poem, and the lesson it carries for us during the pandemic.

Sir Sean said years ago that his big break came when he was five years old, but it took him seventy years to realize that. The break he told of was that he learned to read at age five, and reading then changed his life, opened doors, gave him insight, and more. He said, “It’s the books, the reading, that can change one’s life.” 007! Bond! James Bond! He was a reader. He read newspapers, books, magazines. He devoured it all, changing his life.

I knew none of this until my wife, after reading an obituary of Sir Sean, shared some of it with me, especially the above quotation. He was a man after my heart, but I was aware of one instance of his reading and it is a fine example of literature, of reading and how that changes lives. And it is right there on the You Tube channel. Type in “Sean Connery and Ithaca” then listen to him reading the words of Cavafy. Hear the music of Cavafy’s phrases and allow their meaning to become part of your  soul. See the visuals and  hear the canned music, but most of  all allow Cavafy, through Connery’s resounding Scottish accent, assure you that the trials we face during the pandemic are just another part of a journey we face, and they, and it, too shall pass. Allow Cavafy’s lesson to give you comfort that you, like Odysseys and us all, can gain Ithaca, our safe harbor, our restful home.

1 … 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 … 200