New Year, New Dreams...

When I was younger my dreams were simple, I wanted it all.  I wanted to be rich, I wanted to be famous.  I wanted to star on Broadway, win a Tony award and then make my move to Hollywood and films win my first Oscar for a Supporting Role and then my Second for a Leading Role.

I wanted to travel the world.  Paris, Moscow, Sydney, Barcelona, Rio.  When I was young I wanted to be Brian Boitano.  I wanted to win the Lottery, be obscenely rich and never work a day in my life.

My fantasies and dreams of youth were simple... I wanted it all!  My bet is that many of you shared the same dreams (OK, probably not the Brian Boitano part!) Our dreams of youth were usually self-indulgent and not very practical. 

As I grow older I find that my hopes and dreams are not so much about me anymore, not about "things," or fame or money.  My dreams are more complex, my hopes smaller in scope, I venture to guess that my dreams of youth may have been easier to achieve.

My 2011 Wish list of Dreams.....

1. grace for those I disagree with, to those in need and those who are hurting
2. to continue loving my job
3. health and prosperity for those I love
4. time management skills
5. continue to reconnect with the people who slipped out of my life through the years
6. peace of mind
7. one more family dinner with mama
8. fit into 32" waist jeans
9. more time to spend with my friends
10. a cure for AIDS
11. for Chelsea and Zack to never suffer and always have a life filled with happiness
12. play in the snow
13. learn to scuba dive
14. dive the Great Barrier Reef
15. be able to eat pizza and pasta and burgers and fried foods and not gain weight or damage my health
16. attend the Winter Olympics
17. walk the Red Carpet at the Oscars
18. walk down the beach without a shirt and know I look good
19. play with Lita everyday
20. our Politicians start concentrating more on what is right for our country and not how they can benefit themselves
21. buy a new sofa
22. have something I have written published
23. Sam and Donna to LOVE the empty nest
24. continue to be touched, challenged and ministered to by Pastor Kent and Pastor Jen
25. Georgia Bulldog football to be king again
26. daddy to have peace of mind
27. no world suffering
28. growth in my faith
29. dedicate an hour each day to writing
30. no drama
31. use my elected office for good
32. be there for my friends and family
33. lively political debates with my brother
34. remodel my kitchen
35. laugh every day
36. continued financial responsibility
37. Snookie and the Situation to get a job
38. economic prosperity return to our country
39. be there for my family
40. learn math
41. enjoy biking
42. lose 35 pounds
43. volunteer more
44. worship in a completed sanctuary at my Church
45. own a summer home on top of a mountain in Asheville, NC
46. bipartisanship
47. paint the interior of my house (OK, have it painted)
48. study and grow in The Bible
49. be a dependable friend
50. inspire
51. sing on a Broadway stage
52. the naivete of youth
53. write the story that is in my head
54. don't waste a single moment
55. end every conversation with "I love you"
56. a backyard pool
57. go to the movies more
58. love life
59. hug at least one person every day
60. go on another road trip with Aunt Beck
61. be spontaneous
62. think before I speak
63. be a better person today than yesterday and tomorrow than today
64. swim
65. restart the Friday afternoon front yard gatherings with my neighbors
66. challenge myself physically
67. Simon, Paula and Randy all come back to American Idol as the only judges
68. eat healthy
69. be more patient with little stuff
70. do something I have never done before at least once per month
71. cook
72. realize that being right is not always best
73. trust
74. celebrate small victories
75. do a better job of updating my blog
76. say thank you
77. an end to war
78. praise God daily
79. enjoy life
80. work hard and play hard
81. honor the legacy that has been given me by my parents and brother
82. take weekend trips
83. children no longer suffer
84. honor the attempt
85. go to concerts
86. get my hands in the dirt more working in my yard
87. age gracefully
88. be active in my TAG group
89. learn to say "no" when I should
90. be fair
91. honor the elderly
92. stand up for what I believe in
93. write notes and send them in the mail, not just email
94. get pampered occasionally
95. don't always do it alone, assign responsibilities and expect them to be completed
96. hike
97. talk to daddy every day, talk to Sam at least once a week and talk to Aunt Beck once a week
98. make others feel special
99. live my faith
100. love.

Like I said, the dreams of youth are easier to obtain.  I pray that in 2011 you find happiness, health and prosperity, but most of all I pray you are filled with love.

My Christmas Wish for You.....

Christmas will be different this year.  The first Christmas without the matriarch of my family, the one who taught us the joy of Christmas, the one who still enjoyed a visit from Santa as much as anyone else, even when her youngest child was 45 years old.

This year we will be without mama, definitely a sad marker since her death.  As sad as the "first" Christmas will be,  it also provides us with a challenge to fully celebrate the joy of Christmas the way she taught us since childhood. 

This morning in Church I was swept away by the music of the season, beautiful glorious music celebrating the birth of our Savior.  Suddenly it dawned on me, this will be mama's first year with the angels of heaven celebrating the miracle of that first Christmas.  This year as we set one less place at the table, our family of angels sets one more, what a glorious feast that will be!

This year, not only in December, but through the year, the spirit of Christmas has engulfed me in ways that I have never felt before.  As I think back on the past months, since that day in late February when my life changed, an overwhelming feeling of joy and gratitude fills my soul.

From the friends who selflessly gave their time to clean my house, replant my flower beds and stock my fridge and cabinets while I was away, I see the spirit of giving that we are taught as children, a selfless act that goes with me every day.

Phone calls that came out of the blue, phone calls from friends and family just to let me know they were thinking of me.  In my world, those calls were like the angels of heaven announcing the good news, they were pick-me-ups letting me know that the dark days will pass.

I was taught from an early age that the spirit of Christmas is more about the promise of the new life than it is about gifts, trees and tinsel.  This year, more than any other I have found myself thinking about that "new life." 

A new life that moves forward without my most important influence.  A life that moves forward without my "light."

This year as I think about the sadness that could take over my Christmas season, I have decided to celebrate the lessons I was taught since childhood and the joy that will help me move forward.

I will remember my 5th Christmas.  The year I got a Big Wheel.  The Big Wheel I literally wore the tires off of.  That was the year that Tom and Sam helped their little brother find the freedom of adventure with my own "wheels", a sense of adventure that I still have today as an adult.

This year, I will think back to my 6th Christmas, the year that ma-ma fell down our steps and broke her arm, that was the year that my cousin Melissa and I went out into the woods to build a "garden" in a pie pan to make ma-ma feel better.  That was the year I learned about compassion, I have certainly felt that compassion this year and hope that I have been able to return the favor.

Or my 7th Christmas when Larry McClure showed up to our house and scared a little boy to tears when the Santa "impostor" showed up MUCH earlier than he should have.  This year, I know in my soul that any "impostors" have been removed from my life.  I have found a peace in faith that I never knew before, a faith that carries me not only through darkness but also through the joy of light!

When I was in my early teens we had Christmas a week early, that was because Sam was working on an oil rig that year and would be away from home on Christmas day.  I hated that year and am glad that we never had another Christmas apart.  That was the year that I learned the importance of family, just being in the same room, somehow takes away some of the pressures from the outside world and provides a feeling of warmth that can't be realized elsewhere.

Then there were the years when our family grew.  The years we got Donna, then Chelsea and Zack, these are the years that I learned there is an endless ability to love.  Room for my heart to grow and welcome new people into my life.

We have had more Christmases than I can count that were uneventful, but always filled with laughter and sometimes tears.  We were taught that the Christmas spirit is about family, it is about the laughter, the tears, the togetherness.  No doubt we will find that same spirit under our tree this year as well.

Mama started a tradition years ago when Chelsea and Zack were very young.  Once they got old enough to read they would open up an old "pop-up" book and read the Christmas story to our family.  I hope this year, those same young adults will continue that tradition, knowing that the real meaning of Christmas lies in the words of the story, not in the packages under the tree.

This year, I have seen the spirit of Christmas all year long, in big and small ways, in ways I could never imagine.   Maybe it is because I am getting older and those simple gestures mean more.  Maybe it is because of the loss of mama, or maybe it is because of the lessons I have learned along the way.  The lessons I was taught by my bright star, a mother who taught the best gifts at Christmas are those shared with family. 

My Christmas wish  for each of you is the joy of the season, the light of simple gestures and the creation of memories and traditions that will comfort you into the future.

I wish you peace, I wish you love and I wish you happiness.  With a full heart of gratitude this Christmas I will remember the past, but also look to the future hoping for new memories of the true meaning of Christmas.

Embrace those you love, hold them close and make sure they know just how important they are.  Those people who touch your lives each day, the friend, co-worker, neighbor and family member, share the spirit of the season with them and as we move forward just imagine how great our futures would be if we carried that Christmas spirit year round.

My Christmas wish for you is love, grace and joy.

With love and gratitude, Merry Christmas to you all!

Aunt Beck

We all have one, a favorite Aunt or Uncle, favorite cousin, for me that is my Aunt Beck. 

Aunt Beck is mama's older sister by just a couple of years.  The two of them were very close, which may explain my connection to her.  Aunt Beck turned 80 this month, a milestone worthy of celebration and a milestone worthy of reflection.

In many ways Aunt Beck and I are very similar.  We are the children who flew the coop, moved away from home and settled on the beach.  We connect through the sand between our toes. 

As a child some of my fondest memories were of Aunt Beck's house in the Summer or on Spring Break.  Our family would pile into the stationwagon and take off for a week at the beach, a week at Aunt Beck's house.

Now, the house we were visiting wasn't only Aunt Beck's, Uncle Larry and Melissa lived there too, a dog or hamster was often included in the mix. 

Aunt Beck has lived in Fernandina Beach, Florida for all of her adult life.  She and Uncle Larry moved there not long after they were married. 

For me, Fernandina Beach was paradise, little did I know that until the fancy people found it in the 80's that it really wasn't all the rage until a name change made it Amelia Island.  Mama used to joke with her friends that we had been going to Amelia Island before anyone even knew what Amelia Island was.

Aunt Beck, Uncle Larry and Melissa had a quiet house, everything neat and put away in its place.  That was until the Rumsey clan would arrive with three boys, insatiable appetites and a boisterous energy that was difficult to tame. 

We would visit Aunt Beck a couple of times each year, wreaking havoc on her peaceful existence each time we came. 

Two or three times each year, Aunt Beck, Uncle Larry and Melissa would make their way to God's Country for a visit.  You could almost see the culture shock on their faces when they arrived and soon realized they had left the melodic symphony of the ocean for the hectic chaos found on Old Buncomb Road. 

They usually stayed with Ma- ma  and Gramps when they came, about 30 miles from our house.  I think they probably needed a safe place to retreat to. 

Our visits to Aunt Beck's house were for the beach.  When Aunt Beck and her family came to God's Country it was usually for the visits to those "cute little shops on Main Street." 

Mama and Aunt Beck loved going in and out of the shops on Main Street when she came.  The same shops that mama only occasionally would walk into during the rest of the year would become a magnetic force for mama and Aunt Beck during those visits. 

Aunt Beck has always held a special place in my heart.  Her dry sense of humor, devilish grin and zest for life are what attracts me. 

As I have grown from childhood to adult life, Aunt Beck has become a force in my life.  When I was thinking of moving to Florida, she was one of the people I spoke with. 

My concern was that I wouldn't be able to be home when I "needed" to be there if I lived 12 hours away.  Aunt Beck assured me that if I were to be happy in MY life I needed to follow my dreams and that the rest would take care of itself.  She was right.

Aunt Beck is the person who guided me through my first few holidays away from home, and she was a role model for me to see how you can create a "Florida family" while never forgetting your real family. 

When Aunt Beck married Uncle Larry she .....GASP.... left the Baptist Church and became a Methodist.  During my search for faith, I did the same.  Aunt Beck helped me realize it isn't about the family tradition of a denomination.  It isn't about what faith you grew up in, what it is about is the path of faith you grow into.

After I moved to Florida, Aunt Beck and Uncle Larry continued their visits to God's country.  Melissa was now married with her own children and Aunt Beck and Uncle Larry were now traveling to help take care of Ma-ma and Gramps as they made their long journey to heaven. 

After ma-ma and gramps passed, not long after Uncle Larry's health began to fail and he passed before Christmas just a few years ago.

When it came time for me to make my next visit to God's Country, I asked Aunt Beck if she would like to go with me.  Her house was almost perfectly half way in a 12 hour drive.  Aunt Beck accepted my invitation to ride with me and this began a whole new adventure in our relationship.

I picked her up just off the I95 exit.  Ground rules were set from the very first trip.... meet me at McDonald's just off of 95.  I will drop you off at the same location on the way home.  For the most part that has been our routine for several years now.

The other rule I set was, don't go to sleep and talk to me while we drive.  I can assure you THAT rule has NEVER been broken!

From the time Aunt Beck sits down in the passenger seat until we arrive in God's Country we talk.  We talk about anything and everything.  She kids me and I kid her, she knows that we will stop 2 maybe 3 times tops on the road.  She doesn't complain she just makes sure to take care of everything during these brief stops.

Driving up the road Aunt Beck tells me stories about the good ole days when she and mama were in High School.  How their circle of friends used to congregate at my grandparents house and how Gramps would pile all their friends into his car and take them places.

We have talked about faith and Church news and business more than most people I have ever spoken to.  Sometimes we even talk politics.

Several years ago, after mama's health began to fade Aunt Beck made a comment driving up the road, "Ken, once ma-ma and gramps started getting sick I always made sure I took all the clothes I may need for a visit because you just never know."  In that very instant I knew exactly what she was saying and it was in that instant that I began to prepare myself for the inevitable loss of mama.  Since that trip I always make sure to have "all the clothes I may need" because you just never know.

In February when we knew mama was making her final journey home, I called Aunt Beck at 11AM and told her I would be picking her up at 5, she was ready and in the car.  We didn't talk as much on that trip, I assume for fear that we would both breakdown, but we did talk about the important stuff.

During that final week in Georgia, Aunt Beck was there every step of the way and she was the one who alerted us all that mama was gone..... I think mama planned it that way.

The trip back to Florida after mama passed was difficult, in many ways even harder than the drive up.  On the way back we talked a lot about mama and the week we had just lived through, about mama's service, we talked about daddy and Sam and the grandkids and Donna, we talked about everyone. 

We talked about how hard it would be not to be able to pick up the phone and talk to mama, after all Aunt Beck had been through it already.  We talked about birthdays, anniversaries, holidays and just regular days and how they would be hard.  But we also talked about the memories that we would carry with us, the memories that would make us smile and the memories that would bring a warmth to the heart. 

When Aunt Beck got out of my car that day, I cried, she cried.  There was no way to hold back the tears, they were going to come and we both knew it, the thing I didn't know would happen was that when I got back in my car to finish my drive home I had a strong sense of peace, I reflected on memories and my heart grew warm.  Aunt Beck has a knack for teaching big lessons without ever trying, she did it again on that day.

In June I decided I was going to God's Country for Father's Day.  It was my first visit home since mama passed and when I decided to go I invited Aunt Beck to go, she said yes.  I was dreading the trip and I think she was too, but we both knew one trip had to be the first, so it may as well be now. 

As usual we got into the car and took off.  Since the first time Aunt Beck rode to God's Country with me, she has talked about how pretty the backroads are through Georgia.  I am not the kind of guy who likes the back roads, I want to get on the Interstate and go, she likes to take her time and enjoy the scenery.

On this trip Aunt Beck threw down the ultimate guilt trip.  "I would love to go on those back roads just one more time, this may be my last trip and I sure would love to see that pretty scenery."  I insisted that I was NOT going on the back roads.  For the next three hours I insisted that I wasn't going on the back roads until we reached Statesboro, Ga and she broke me.

I got off the interstate and made my way through Statesboro.  I hadn't been there since I graduated college and thought it would be fun to reminisce for a bit.  We drove into town, I showed her my college dorm and then we got onto the main road that I thought would take us home.

We were now on those back roads that she had longed for, I was going 35 mph and losing my patience, plus I was getting lost.  We drove around in circles for about an hour until we finally got onto the road that we both agreed was the right road for us to be traveling during this excursion into the back roads of Georgia. 

The trip home was about 2 hours longer than it should have been, but we saw cotton fields and antebellum houses.  We saw the Wal-Mart that Aunt Beck and Uncle Larry used to always stop at on their journeys up and down the road.  We reminisced and stepped back in time on those old 2 lane roads through Georgia.

Our visit home was much better than either of us expected, it was a wonderful family visit, it was hard without mama being there but it was our new normal and I am glad Aunt Beck was there to be a part of it.

Aunt Beck has lived 80 years, she has accomplished a lot in that time.  She has kept that devilish grin and dry sense of humor for all these years.  She has nurtured, she has loved and she has taught.  Aunt Beck has become more important to me each and every year, I love her and wish for many more trips together to God's Country.  Although one thing is for sure... she HAS taken her last trip through on the back roads with me driving, that is until she guilts me into it again!

The Phone Call the Changed My Life.... Chapter 4

As I drove to the United Methodist Church of the Palm Beaches that morning, I kept thinking about what daddy had said on the phone the night before.  "Go to Church tomorrow." 

At 30 something years old, I was still accustomed to listening to my daddy.  I didn't always do what he said, but I learned at an early age that he was pretty smart, so on most things I listened.  This was one of those days when I listened.

I drove up to UMCPB and made my way into the "Gathering Place," the hall where Church was held.  I hobbled in on my crutches and found my way to a seat.  The seat I chose was on the right side of the building and there were a number of seniors who came and sat around me.  A couple made chit-chat with me and I learned that the gentleman I was speaking to was a retired doctor, so he was very interested in my injury, my surgery and my on-going recovery.

As the service time got near a lady came and sat down beside me, I will never forget.  She was dressed in a kelly green skirt and jacket.  Those sitting around me all greeted her and she did the same in return.  She introduced herself to me as Nancy and welcomed me to the Church.

As services began, Nancy and I shared a hymnal.  I think she felt sorry for me, trying to balance myself on crutches was enough of a feat, much less trying to balance a hymnal, myself and the crutches.  I felt really comfortable in this Church immediately.  The people were friendly, welcoming and you could feel the genuine love amongst the members. 

I decided before I left that morning that I would be back.  I liked the music, the preaching and the overall feel of the place.  Leaving Church that morning I felt better than I had since before my accident.

The following day I hit a really low point emotionally.  I don't know what it was but the loneliness of a new town, the injury, everything just kind of hit.  Immediately I knew what to do.  I called the United Methodist Church of the Palm Beaches and asked if I could come over and speak to the Pastor.

Within the hour I was sitting in the office of David McEntire.  He asked all the obvious questions, what was wrong with my leg, how long I had been on the crutches etc.  Then he told me that his wife told him I had a nice voice and that I should be in the choir.  His wife?????

What I didn't know at the time.... Nancy, the lady in the green, the lady who held my hymnal.  Nancy was the Pastor's wife.  That meeting led to a friendship that I will always cherish.  David and Nancy McEntire became a pastoral couple who taught me about grace.  They taught me what true Christianity is all about and they became family.

Over the years many people at the UMCPB have become like family to me.  I have made friendships that will last throughout my life.  I have been nurtured, loved, challenged, held accountable and taught by these people.

Now, 12 years later, this Church fills a chunk of my heart that guides me on a daily basis. 

David and Nancy are gone, they were transferred a few years back, but we have been blessed by other Pastors who have served our Church well.  John, Ken, Bo and Jen, all Associate Pastors who blessed UMCPB during their tenure and into today.

Pastor Jen and Bo remain with us today.  I don't see Bo that often as he leads our Korean congregation, but Jen is a major force in my life.  The day I got laid off, she was one of my first calls, I just needed to hear her voice.  When mama was sick and her time was short, Jen called me more than once just to let me talk.  She is now someone I look to for guidance and advice, but most of all she is someone I try to emulate, she lives her life humbly, with grace, compassion and love.... she lives her life the way God intended us all to live our lives.

David was replaced by Pastor Vic as our Senior Pastor.  He was with us for 3 years.  He had a difficult tenure, but he led us with grace and did his best, no one can ask for more than that. 

I lost my job during Pastor Vic's tenure, you know they say "God puts people in your life for specific reasons."  Debbi, his wife came to me after the lay-off, she hugged me and told me everything would be ok and for me not to leave Florida.  God still had a future for me here, I listened to her.

Now this past summer Pastor Kent and Carla have come to lead our Church, I already like them.  They are fun, energetic and Kent has a presence in the pulpit that I really like.  I know they will lead us well.

The United Methodist Church of the Palm Beaches has become more than a Church for me, they are extended family.  People I know who love me for our commonality and our differences.  A congregation who loves, laughs, cries and grows together.  A congregation that has nurtured me through good and bad.

And now you know why that simple phone call, with a simple statement "go to Church tomorrow" changed my life. 

That simple call that had so much power, four words "go to Church tomorrow" the phone call that changed my life.

The Phone Call that Changed My Life.... Chapter 3

Making my way into the "Gathering Place" of the United Methodist Church of the Palm Beaches was a big step for me.  I had no idea that this would be the first step of many that would be life altering because of UMCPB.

I grew up in the Church, so attending services wasn't anything I was unaccustomed to.  From an early age many of my fondest memories revolved around Clayton Baptist Church.  Rev. Sam Letson was my first pastor, his son Sammy one of my best friends. 

My Church friends from Clayton Baptist Church were some that I still think of fondly today.  Fred, Michael, Patty, Kristina, Tracy, Warren, Brian, Jill and many others.  I grew up with these kids.  Together we sang in choirs, did musical productions, attended Bible School, led Youth Sunday and so much more. 

Whether they knew it or not, these people helped to shape my life.  Others shaped my life as well.  Winona Gates, a gentle woman who started out as a piano player in my Youth Choir and later became a role model and confidant. 

Mrs. Gates is the kind of woman who touches lives by example.  No great speeches, no parables, just grace and example.  When I go to God's Country I make it a point of seeing Mrs. Gates when I visit CBC. 

Standing in the receiving line at the funeral home when mama passed away was incredibly difficult.  I remember seeing Mrs. Gates face come around the corner and got a sense of peace, that is the kind of woman Winona Gates is. 

I had a Sunday School teacher named Ted Law for several of my formidable years.  Coach  Law (in addition to being a Sunday School teacher, he was also a High School Basketball Coach) already seemed old when I was a kid, it was probably his grey hair because he wasn't much older than I am now when I first began going to his Sunday School class. 

Coach Law challenged our class of boys.  He challenged us to be young men, respect others and lead by example, not falling into the wrong crowd. 

Another thing Coach Law taught was responsibility. 

Sunday School and Church were not something that was done sometimes, it was our responsibility to be in Sunday School and Church EVERY Sunday.  For some reason that responsibility made its way into my 10 year old brain and I latched onto it.

The year before my friend Brian had gotten a perfect attendance pin and I decided I wanted one too.  That bright shiny pin looked so impressive on the lapel of his jacket and caught the light just so as to glisten when he walked.

I accepted Coach Law's challenge and decided I would receive my perfect attendance pin for Sunday School.  I got my initial pin, I also got year two and year three. 

Getting to Sunday School every week wasn't always easy, but mama and daddy knew it meant a lot to me.  When we were out of town, they found a church where I could attend Sunday School.

When I was 11, I had my tonsils out, mama invited the entire Sunday School to our house for class, just so I wouldn't be counted absent.

When I was 12, a group of families went camping for the weekend.  We set up camp on the river.  The only way into the campground was with a 4-wheel drive vehicle. 

Sunday morning came and as mama and I prepared to leave for Sunday School, all of the kids in the campground decided they were going too. 

Instead of taking our Jeep, we all loaded into one of the pick-up trucks there.  There were three of us in the front seat with mama driving and 4 boys in the back of the truck. (In the 70's it wasn't that big of a deal for kids to ride in the back of a pick-up truck.)

As we made our way down the small winding dirt road around the river, the truck lost its grip on the road.  The next thing you knew we were rolling down an embankment, kids thrown out of the back of the truck and onto the ground.

The wreck looked bad and the truck was totaled, thankfully no one was seriously hurt.  Just bruises, a few cuts and some stitches.

I missed Sunday School that week, we all missed Sunday School that week.  I was heartbroken, not only were we in a wreck, but my streak was broken, there would be no perfect attendance pin.

Without my knowledge mama spoke to Coach Law and told him we were on our way to Sunday School when we had the wreck.

That year when Perfect Attendance Pins were presented they called my name.  It was explained that I did miss a Sunday, but I was on my way and sometimes God puts obstacles in front of us that prevent us from reaching our intended goal. 

On an early morning, in the backwoods of North Georgia, as a truck flipped down and embankment, God put one of those challenges in front of me, a challenge that would teach me a lesson I still carry today.  It wasn't anything earth shaking, it was a lesson of perseverance.

I could have missed more Sundays after that week, but I didn't.  I kept going and didn't miss another week.  I was awarded that perfect attendance pin and I never felt like it was a "gimme" I earned it and wore it with pride as the lights flickered off my lapel.

I learned a lot in that Church growing up.  The lessons I learned formed me in many ways into who I am today.  The cornerstones of my character were molded there in that small Church, with my friends, leaders and examples I still remember today.

As often happens, I moved away from the Church when I was in college.  I was experiencing life on my own, learning and accepting who I was and spreading my wings.

As I came to an acceptance of who I am, I wasn't so sure I was welcome in Church.  This God who I had been told loved me, allowed his more vocal  "followers" to persecute me.  Was this really the God of love for everyone or only those who fit a certain mold?

As I searched for answers through my 20's, I longed for Church, but not the narrow-minded "spokespeople" who made up the Church.  While living in Atlanta, I made friends with a couple of guys who told me about a Church they were attending.

A Methodist Church in Midtown Atlanta, not far from my house.  I attended with them and found a Church where all were welcome, all were loved and the true examples of God I longed for were found. 

In that Church I learned that the "spokespeople" who jumped in front of a television camera at every opportunity were not the Christians I would encounter.  I learned that true Christians love everyone, we love each for our struggles, our weaknesses, our defeats and our victories.

I learned these Christians were the same ones who loved me as a child, the people who shaped my life and led by example.  Through my journey, I learned that where God is truly present, there lies love and grace as well. 

I had many examples of that grace throughout my life.  On the day that I first walked into the United Methodist Church of the Palm Beaches, I wondered which Church I would find.  The Church of persecution, or the Church of love and grace.

From the moment I walked through the doors, I knew I had found the latter.  My walk with Christ has only been strengthened by the UMCPB family and through that journey I have found new leaders, people who lead by example, show love and grace.

Much like my childhood Church home, UMCPB has become my adult Church home, a journey that continues to evolve.

To Be Continued.....

The Phone Call that Changed My Life.... Chapter 2

After surgery I was extremely weak.  The last week of injury, ice and surgery had really taken its toll.  Here I was back in my parents house, on the pull-out sofa in the living room.

Pull-out sofas are not comfortable, as you probably know there always seems to be an iron bar that goes right across the small of your back.  Mama and daddy's pull-out was no different.  Day and night I stayed on the sofa, but eventually I was able to move about more and more.

I had never been on crutches and they took some getting used to.  I was anxious to get back to Florida, but also knew it would be a while before I came back.

After surgery on the 7th, I had a doctor appointment on the 21st, so my short four day vacation in God's Country had now turned into a month long Groundhog Day experience of pain, sofa bed, pain, sofa bed and on and on.

Daddy knew I was anxious to get back to Florida, but he also knew better than I did that I wasn't ready to go.  He gave me a challenge.  As soon as I could walk to the top of our driveway hill I would be ready to go back.

I was weak, but day after day I began to try to accomplish the task of going up the hill.  The first day, I barely made it out of the garage.  Each day I got stronger, eventually making it to the top of the long driveway hill within about a week. 

My strength was returning and I was getting much better on the crutches.  We had an appointment on the 21st with my doctor, so a few days before that, mama, daddy and I all felt comfortable that we could make a plane reservation for the 23rd.

The 21st came and we made it to my doctor appointment.  For the first time since my surgery the doctor removed my cast and bandages.  When everything was exposed I saw my scar, an 8 inch "L" shaped scar now adorned my beautiful foot.

After getting the cast off, my doctor found a referral for me in WPB and two days later I was on a plane headed back to Florida. 

My first big challenge on the return home was to conquer the 17 steps that led up to my 2nd story apartment.  I made it and eventually learned to drive with my left foot.  I was coming along back in Florida.

The catering job was gone because I couldn't do anything, but that was ok, my main focus now was on getting well.

Four days per week I went to physical therapy, the rest of the time I spent moving slowly and trying to get around.

I found through this experience just how nice people can be.  I had doors held for me by little old women, I learned to drive one of the motorized buggies at the grocery and often had people get items on uppper shelves that I couldn't reach.  The kindness of strangers took on a whole new meaning during this time period.

As I began to get better each day, I also became depressed.  Here I was in a town where I knew no one, I didn't have a job, I couldn't go to the beach and I had several more months on the crutches before I would be able to get around like I did before. 

I looked for a job during this time, had a few interviews, but whenever I came hobbling in it was obvious by looking at the interviewer that I wouldn't be coming back for a second interview. 

I was frustrated, I was angry, I was depressed and I was beginning to think I had made a mistake by moving to Florida. 

Through it all my family tried to keep my spirits up, but it wasn't working, I was at a very low point in my life.

One Saturday night I was on the phone with mama and daddy.  The conversation was pretty typical and then at the end of the conversation daddy said something, he said something that would change my life forever....

"you know that big Church behind the TGIF Friday's restaurant", my response was "yes."  Then daddy said.... "why don't you go to Church in the morning?"

I was non-committal but the next morning I woke up, got dressed and made my way to the United Methodist Church of the Palm Beaches.  I went in, sat down, and before I left I knew it that phone call from the night before had just changed me, changed me in a way that would soon make me realize it would all be ok!

To Be Continued....

The Phone Call That Changed My Life....

Right after the 1996 Summer Olympic Games I needed a change of pace.  Atlanta had been in the spotlight since 1990 when the Games were awarded and for those years we had all been gearing up for what was to come.

At the conclusion of the Olympics there was a tremendous let down, sadness and depression throughout the city.  There was a feeling of now what?  I had the same feeling on a more personal level. 

Working in the special events industry, the Olympics were the epitome of a career for most people, here I was at 32 thinking, ok, what now?  I needed a new adventure.

For years I had held a love affair with the beach.  Immediately after the Games I took a trip to Florida, by myself just to unwind.  What I found in Florida was the beginning of my "now what" because within weeks I was packing my bags and moving to sunny South Florida, West Palm Beach to be exact.

The beginning of this adventure was going to be huge, I was moving to a place where I knew no one.  I would either thrive or fumble on my own. 

I had gotten a piddly job working for a catering company to help me find my way.  I hated working at the catering company, but loved south Florida, I knew that once I found a job I could enjoy I would be set.

A couple of months after my arrival, mama, daddy and gramps came for a visit to see my new home.  A few months later mama and daddy came again, they could tell I was happy here and even though it was too far from God's Country for their taste they were supportive of my move.

At the end of June I had gathered up enough days to take a vacation.  I packed my bags, hopped a plane and headed home, to see my family.  The plan was to spend the Fourth of July holiday with family and then come back to WPB for work...... that was "the plan!"

It had been a while since I had been to God's Country and not long after I arrived mama told me she had one job she needed me to do while I was home.  I told her of course and she said that "one of the screens had come off the upstairs window and she needed me to put it back on."  Simple enough.

The next day, July 1st I decided it was time to re-attach the screen.  Mama and daddy didn't have a ladder and I decided I didn't need on.  Without saying anything to anyone, I went into the upstairs bathroom, opened the window and climbed out onto the roof.

I put the screen back into place and then it happened.  I felt myself slipping, when I began slipping I jumped.  When I hit the ground I landed on both feet, but immediately knew something was wrong from the pop I heard when I landed.

Intense pain surged through my body and all I could do was yell for daddy.

Mama first and then daddy made their way to the front lawn, finding me in a heap writhing in pain.  What did you do was their first question, their second question was WHY????

I let them know quickly that this wasn't the time for a long drawn out talk, we needed to get to the hospital pronto.  Daddy and I got into the car and made our way to the hospital, leaving mama at home to, well.... call everyone she knew to tell them that Ken was hurt.

By the time we made it to the emergency room, my foot was swollen and burning with pain.  I knew this was more than a sprain, this was something serious.  I had never had a broken bone, but was pretty sure I had one now.
Not long after daddy and I arrived at the hospital, Sam and mama made their way in.  After checking out my foot, the doctor told us his recommendation was for us to go to a Regional Hospital about 40 miles away as they could give me better care.

An ambulance was offered, but we decided to load me into the backseat of mama and daddy's Oldsmobile and head south.  By this time I had been given a shot for pain, so I was drifting, the backseat of the car as opposed to an ambulance was just fine with me.

We met a doctor at the Regional Hospital and he advised that I had broken my heel.  My heel???  Who breaks a heel?  Evidently I do!

Not only did I break it, the impact of me on the ground basically made my heel explode inside my body, it was in lots of pieces.

So now we know what is wrong, how do we fix it and fix it fast, I have to be back in WPB in less than a week.  As if my day wasn't already bad enough the doctor had some more news for me.

The swelling in my foot was so great that he couldn't do surgery until it had subsided, this meant I would be going home and icing my foot to get the swelling down.  Ok, ice the foot, we will see you tomorrow..... ummmm, NO..... we will see you on the 7th.  The 7th!?!?!?  That is a week away.

Yes, I would be coming back in one week for surgery.  The instructions from the doctor, keep my foot elevated and iced for a week.  Yes, iced for a week!

That is exactly what I did, for one week, day and night I kept ice on my foot.  I slept and lived on a sofa bed in the living room.  The 4th of July came and went, no fireworks for me and finally the morning of the 7th arrived.

Mama, daddy and I made our way to the hospital, surgery was scheduled for early afternoon.  I would be in the hospital for a day or so, depending on how well I did.

When we got to my assigned room, mama told the nurse that she would need a blanket as she would be staying in my room with me.  "Now mama that is silly, I am a grown man, I can stay here by myself, you go home with daddy."

My direction fell on deaf ears, mama was going to stay and I was just going to have to like it.

After surgery I woke up in the big hospital room.  I soon found out that the surgery was a success, I was now the recipient of a bone graft, 7 screws and a metal plate which made up my heel.

At some point during the night I woke up, in horrible pain.  The first face I saw was mama, she was bent over my bed, stroking my head, offering me water.... I was really glad she stayed!

The next morning the nurse came into my room bright and early, she advised me that I had to pee. 

I told her I didn't need to pee, and she advised me that my needs didn't matter, I HAD to pee. 

My bladder had not done anything since my surgery, she was getting off in an hour and she would be back in 30 minutes, if I had not pee'd she would insert a catheter and I WOULD pee.

I had never had a catheter, but I knew I didn't want one, so for the next few minutes I drank as much water as I could stand and eventually pee'd a few drops.

When she came back in she laughed and told me "I thought you would see it my way!"

In a couple of days I went home, back to the sleeper sofa.  My return to WPB had come and gone, now I was in recovery land on the sofa in my childhood living room for God only knew how long......

To Be Continued......

(Side Note, thank you all so much for the notes and gentle pushes in person you have given me to continue the Blog.  In all honesty, since mama died it has been a chore, but I am going to continue and thank you all for encouraging me to do so!)