WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM: Tis' the Season

     In the spirit of the Christmas season, I have chosen to connect three seemingly unrelated observations. But given my sometimes obnoxious habit of attempting to squeeze relevance from the unusual, exploring their relevance may be worth a shot.
     First, my family buried the matriarch of the Stroupe family this past week, as my 105 year old grandmother left us to reside permanently in her Heavenly home. When my grandfather died nearly sixty years ago (before I was born), Nomie became the glue that held the Stroupe family together. She raised her four children to value family, faith, and friends.
     She was a fixture in the third row from the back at the First Presbyterian Church and on those occasions when any of her family members was missing on a given Sunday, she would make note of it and, without judgment, expect an answer as to the reason.
     In her lifetime, she experienced World War I, the Great Depression, World War II, and all the other stuff that happened after those events. But she didn't worry too much about all that. She was more concerned with taking care of and praying for her children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and great great grandchildren (and all their spouses). She was a joy to those around her. Her spirit lives on in all of us whom she touched while here . . .
     I spent a few minutes with a group of my baseball players ringing the Salvation Army Bell outside of a grocery store a few days back. It wasn't awkward because there were so many of us and it was at a time of night when there weren't many shoppers. But having had just a smidgen of experience as a ringer now, I think I am now qualified to make a couple recommendations as to how interactions with bell ringers should go.
     Bell ringers aren't irritated when shoppers don't put any money in the bucket. They realize you've encountered dozens of buckets during the season and won't be placing coins and bills in them every time you pass by. Yet many of us well meaning folks are afraid to make eye contact with the volunteer ringers. And worse, we often choose a different entrance or exit to avoid them. This is a holiday tragedy, in my humble opinion.
     So here's what I propose: When we see someone ringing the bell and standing outside in the cold, let's wish them Merry Christmas as we pass by, and if possible, let's offer them a quick "Thank You for ringing the bell" as we enter and as we exit. We don't have to tell them we already gave. Of course you can give if you wish because the money goes to a great cause. But the thing the ringer enjoys most is a smile. If you don't give money every time, they don't pass judgment. They don't tell Santa you've been naughty. They simply ring the bell and spread the joy. And I appreciate that . . .
     And finally, a confession. It happened one afternoon at my office when my assistant coaches and everyone else had left the building for the day. Suddenly and without warning, there arose such a clatter on my office radio that I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter. From the speakers I heard the faint sound of "Gloria" by Michael W. Smith, one of the greatest Christian Contemporary Christmas songs ever. Knowing I was alone, I cranked the volume to unsafe and obnoxious decibels and began singing, dancing, and movin' to the groovin' in a manner that stirred every creature in sight, which at that moment was limited to our building mouse. (True story: we do have a mouse and I'm sure at that moment he was stirring).
     As my desk pulsated with the rhythm of the beat, I came to my senses and said to myself, "Hey, you're 55 years old, act like it." Then I answered back to my self, "So what? The Child is born and I'm happy about it. Don't try to rob me of my joy." The mouse agreed . . .
     When the angels made their debut for the shepherds just after Jesus' birth, one of the first things they reminded them in Luke 2:10 was: "Fear not, I bring you tidings of great joy." A star with a tail as big as a kite danced in the night and told the little lamb, and the fabulous news eventually traveled to the shepherd boy, the King, and eventually to people everywhere.
     So I have decided to heed the angel's advice. I will not be afraid and I will be joyful. I will not fear death and I won't let the sadness of my grandmother's passing take away one iota from the fact she is dancing with joy alongside the twinkling star. I will purposely gravitate toward the store entrance where there are bell ringers and I will look them in the eye and thank them for spreading the joy, wish them a Merry Christmas, and pass along a "God bless you" as well. But most of all, I will sing and dance whenever and wherever the Spirit of Joy moves me. Especially at Christmas. Tis' the season for such.

   

WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM- Worth Repeating

     I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't go this route again this year. Not that it was a bad thing last year. But I just didn't want to dwell on it, run it into the ground, or frustrate those of you who read these ramblings by repeating something that I've already posted or discussed in detail. (By the way, a big thank you to those of you brave enough to read). The subject for this week is something I shared exactly one year ago. And because the response was overwhelming, I decided then and there that it would be best to retire the post and not try to exploit it by sharing it over and over.

     After all, it got more shares and likes than anything I had ever written online. Which is possibly why some of you have asked that I share it again. Which is also why I feel like others may claim that I'm only sharing it again to get more "hits" or "Likes". But after my experience this past Sunday night, I decided I needed to revisit it. 

     Full disclosure: I sat down at my laptop a year ago and the post just kinda wrote itself. I remember being in a hurry to get somewhere and realized I only had a few minutes to complete it. After tapping the laptop keys for approximately fifteen minutes, I was done. I didn't edit or rearrange it to sound better or be more impactful when I finished. I simply hit the "post" button and shared it. I returned to my laptop a few hours later that evening and was overwhelmed by the comments and responses. I read it a few times trying to figure why anyone would consider it special. It was plain, simple, and uncomplicated. It was unimaginative, lacked creativity, and was highly unpolished. Yet somehow folks were touched by it. 

     This past Sunday evening, I attended an annual gathering of friends of Kent Alexander- who was my neighbor, best childhood friend, and teammate forever. He died eleven years ago this week. I wrote the tribute column to him a year ago on the tenth anniversary of his tragic passing. He was a hometown hero to many. He was a best friend and college roommate to me. For all the guys- including his brother- who gathered for our annual dinner this past Sunday, he was a friend who was taken from us too soon.

     On the evening of his funeral, we held our first gathering at his favorite restaurant. And we've gathered on or around the beginning of December every year since for a meal, and now a couple of the guys cook for all of us. Grown men laugh at each other's old stories. We share memories and, in the most macho way possible, proclaim our love for each other. We always finish with a toast to our departed friend, followed by a group picture. I have the privilege of asking the blessing before the meal each year. Kent's death, though tragic, has brought the brotherhood closer together. 

     I fear, and I want to be careful how I state this, that Romans 8:28 is sometimes a misunderstood verse that has become almost cliche for many Christians. When bad things happen, well meaning folks often quote Romans 8:28- "All things work for the good for those who love Him" in an attempt to encourage those who are experiencing extreme hardship and pain- oftentimes unintentionally implying that the person experiencing the hurt should be thankful instead of outwardly expressing pain and grief. 

     But grieve we must in many cases. And when we lost our friend eleven years ago, we were hurting. We deserved to grieve. It's a process and it takes time. But, as Romans 8:28 rightfully reminds us, God is almighty and powerful enough to turn that pain and grieving into something positive. I don't think the verse is telling us everything that happens is good, but rather it means when we choose to respond with faith and trust in God, He can use that situation to advance His Kingdom despite the pain. 

     So this week, I have kept my promise to myself- sorta. I am not re-posting the original column/devotion/post I shared this time last year. But for those of you who are curious, you can read it at http://rustystroupe.blogspot.com/2017/12/wacky-wednesday-wisdom-anniversary-i.html or, if you are on my Facebook page (Rusty Stroupe Columns and Ramblings Group), you can scroll down through past posts until you get to my December 6, 2017 post entitled An Anniversary I wish Didn't Exist. (I'll be glad to add anyone who asks to join the group). IF you're reading on my blog, scroll down the right side of the page until you get to posts from December, 2017. 

     Don't worry, I won't be sharing the post over and over in a vain attempt to get people to hit the LIKE button, but I will continue re-celebrating my friend's life each year in early December with those of us who still gather to celebrate the memories and frienships. That way, something good will continue to come from a senseless tragedy in 2007. That's the way God has called us to respond- and I think Kent would approve as well.