I Believe – My Values

Do all people have the notion that they are somehow different from everyone else?  Unique, special? I think so. And that makes us all the same, right? Hmmm…

I’ve thought from childhood that I was different from my siblings, for instance. They all four wore glasses; I didn’t, and I’m the only one with green eyes. I was probably the best student in school, preferring to read or practice my cursive (honest!) on a rainy day, and am the only one with at least a bachelor’s degree. In many ways, I’m just weirder than they are. I think they are more likely to prepare and eat traditional foods and to be suspicious of stuff like granola (especially home-made) and cutting down on sugar and eating less meat and avoiding prepared foods. If I suggested intermittent fasting as a boon to one’s health, my comments would be met with skepticism. While we all agree that taking less pharmaceuticals than our parents, every one of them has daily meds. I’m goofy enough to not even take regular vitamins. But enough comparison; I’ve always been weird and I’m getting it down to a science.

Most people throw their clean, wet clothes in the dryer and forget about them for an hour or so (or longer if they don’t mind wrinkles). Instead, I’ve been using outdoor clotheslines and indoor drying racks nearly exclusively since 1989 or so, and as often as possible before that. I was steeped in it. When our family lived in Potwin, we didn’t even have a dryer. Laundry was done on Mondays and clotheslines outside filled, weather permitting. When the weather didn’t permit, Mom strung lines throughout the house and we had a wet sauna effect with condensation on all the windows and ice if it was especially cold outside. Sister Nancy and I were tasked with bringing in dry laundry and folding it after school; Mom hung it before she went to work, probably down at Dad’s welding shop. I know the benefits: adding humidity to one’s house in the winter, reducing electrical use by avoiding the second-greatest energy user (the dryer is second to HVAC equipment), the brightening effects the sun can have especially on white fabrics, and bringing the sunshiny smell in from the clothesline. Now it has become a point of pride. It’s not necessarily that I feel better than anyone who uses a clothes dryer; I just enjoy the benefits and am stubborn enough to embrace the added time and inconvenience.

We children drank fresh, raw milk as much as possible growing up. When we lived in Potwin, Dad did part-time chores for a farmer just out of town. He milked their cow and brought in their sheep, among other responsibilities, I am sure but can’t list. He brought that milk home and we kids loved it. When we moved to the family farm, Dad got a cow and we had lots of milk to deal with. (I have to explain right here, that said cow’s original name was Blossom, but our adorable little brother couldn’t remember that. He knew it was something to do with flowers, so he called her Tulip. And goodness knows, everything the cute li’l youngest in the family does or says is precious. Am I right?! So her name was Tulip.) It was our girls’ job to strain and refrigerate the milk morning and evening when Dad brought in the big galvanized bucket. When it had risen, Mom skimmed off the cream, kept the half-and-half skimmings as “cereal milk” and skim milk for us to drink. Whenever there was enough to be worth the effort (maybe once a week?), she got out the electric churn and made butter, which she then washed with cold water to remove any buttermilk, salted, and made into round patties about four inches in diameter on plastic lids, with decorative marks on top made with her butter paddle (’cause who wants boring butter?), until they were frozen, then stored in bread sacks in the freezer. I don’t know what Tulip ate that was different from the poor bovines the dairy industry uses, but her butter was yellow. Not that pale, pasty off-white color that passes for industrial butter; I’m talking the color of daffodils. Did I mention her name was Tulip? And speaking of what she ate, sometimes the milk came in smelling horrible. We kids would turn up our noses because one taste would cure you, too! Dad explained that she got into “wild onions.” It didn’t stink like onions; it just smelled and tasted awful! Interestingly, the cream didn’t have that disgusting smell. Once the cream had risen, Mom skimmed it off and used it just like any other. The milk, however, went back out, as a treat for the hogs, who obviously didn’t have such delicate constitutions as we kids did.

(Did you think that milk thing was a rabbit trail? Ha!) We have been blessed for the last maybe ten years with raw milk available from the dairy around the corner. It comes in plastic gallon jugs, just like second-string, grocery story milk. However, once poured into a wide-mouth, glass gallon jar, that nectar-of-the-gods cream rises and can be skimmed off. We buy the insipid, grocery store butter, because the cream is best used in coffee. I drink a lot of skim milk, which is part of my weirdness; I don’t know many adults who admit they do too. Another weird thing is that we make our own yogurt in the oven. Easy and cheap. I like that!

Never having plenteous financial funding has further augmented my weird tendencies. For example, I don’t like to shop, which I understand lots of women find entertaining. Owing to a predisposition against spending money or to the necessity of avoiding bankruptcy, I just would rather not buy stuff. And I like to find interesting ways to make what I need from what I have. So what do you do with cast-off socks? You know, the ones with holes (’cause who darns socks? Oh yeah. I’ve done that.) or the ones whose mate has up and R U N N O F T. (Did I mention that I love the movie, Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?) Well, you should save them up and make them into something useful, like a braided rug. Don’t worry that it will weigh 30 pounds when it’s big enough for your bathroom floor. You’ll have a warm feeling inside that you saved the planet by keeping those 30 pounds of socks out of the landfill. You’re welcome.

And what about bags from pet and livestock feed? With a little cutting and sewing, they turn into fantastic totes and shopping bags (ok, I do have to get groceries sometimes!) that last a long time. I even went through a phase where I made crocheted rugs out of old t-shirts. Strips 3/4 inches wide can be stretched into sharn (shirt yarn) and made into balls; the rugs need only simple crocheting with a Q-size hook. They have the advantage that crumbs, dirt and such fall through the holes and are contained until you are ready to sweep them up. They have the added advantage that they’re free. When you take on projects like this, everyone you know soon donates their old t-shirts to your inventory, and second-hand stores have scads that they can’t sell. You might even know someone who is storing them in boxes in the garage. (Do you have my phone number?)

The movie Mary Poppins came to theaters when I was in kindergarten. Not that I got to see it in the theater, mind you, but our classmate Machelle did and she taught us the song, “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” which we sang for our kindergarten graduation ceremony. Eventually, the movie was shown on the Sunday evening television show, The Wonderful World of Disney, and our family watched along with probably 95% of households in America. What magic and fun! Later in childhood I learned the song from Uncle Albert’s ceiling tea party, “I Love to Laugh,” which I believe should be considered a life theme song for me. Funny stuff just…well…makes me happy! I love making other people laugh, especially those closest to me. And when they make me laugh, the more deeply ingrained they become in the fabric of my being.

I think I got it from my Grammy and Grampy. Though they were often quite serious, having survived the Great Depression, World War II, and the resulting deprivations of each, they delighted in making us kids laugh. For instance, Grammy had these crazy glasses with holographic paper lenses; when she moved her head slightly, her eyes seemed to be swirling like someone in a cartoon. And all the while she sat there deadpan. Our Grampy had the most amazing collection of funny faces. They had parties with just us Miller kids, once a Black Cat Society party on Halloween; a New Year’s Eve bash with great fun and food. They read us Dr. Seuss and Bible stories.

We kids spent a lot of time with them, experiencing many facets of life in ways only that grandparent/grandchild relationship can foster: responsibility for getting one’s chores and school work done well; the predictability of life’s routines; balance in one’s life–they said, “When we work, we work; when we play, we play.”–with enough of each.

But, I digress.  Grammy and Grampy loved to laugh; me too!

By high school, I had my own radio.  Okay, that doesn’t sound like a big deal, but my big brother, Randy, and I worked at home a whole summer between eighth grade and freshman year (I think), and our parents paid us with these psychedelic and really cool AC/DC radios.  They stood maybe 12 inches high, 8 inches wide and 5 inches deep covered in a reptilian-patterned, glossy brown vinyl.  The whole lower half of the front was a faceted, plastic screen behind which were small multicolored lights that “danced” with the music, according to the volume.  I have just spent more time describing this wonderful radio than you think is warranted, but I’m tellin’ you it was a big deal.  I spent a lot of time in my room listening to KLEO and KEYN play the current hits, learning all the tunes and words to songs that were, in many ways, harmless but have stuck with me to this day.  In the evening on Sundays, Casey Kasem hosted a program, American Top 40, which I tried not to miss so I could know all the best songs and be cool.  Sometime in there, I discovered another Sunday evening radio program, Dr. Demento, which specialized in recordings that were comic, novelty, and just plain weird.  While I should have been learning important stuff, like Algebra and German, I was instead memorizing these goofy pieces.  And I have attached a recording of one such piece I found particularly funny, which will prove to you that I didn’t go off on this radio rabbit trail for nothing.  I love to make people laugh, so I memorized and regaled my family and others with “Them Poems” by Mason Williams.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/18aTC21w1SmzdIe-Oi3uNv2C3zqdDTPbD/view?usp=sharing

Starting with today, April 15, 2020, holed up in my home on a little farm in south-central Kansas, I will attempt to put into typed words who I am–and why. First, why do I have time today to write? Why am I not working somewhere outside my home? Oh yeah, you remember, the COVID-19 stay home order that kept people all over the world from operating the way they were accustomed to, in an effort to keep people from becoming infected with the deadly virus? Twenty years ago this would have been mayhem, but fortunately many people began several weeks ago working from home through the internet; many businesses have been able to conduct commerce with a combination of electronic and physical pick up of products. Now, let’s see. How can I hold down my current job of serving others by cleaning their homes on a regular basis, but do that electronically over the internet? I’ll join them on skype or google hangout or even on the phone: “Okay, get out your vacuum and plug it in. Good. Now that little black switch, turn it on and don’t be surprised by the loud noise it makes. Now push and pull it across the floor. Good…” You get the picture. It just isn’t feasible.

Cleaning homes. Not a very glamorous job, but necessary for people who cannot physically handle the work, like the elderly, as well as for those whose busy lives make them want or need help. Shoot, I’m busy enough cleaning houses that I want someone to come clean mine!

To be physically able to efficiently and quickly clean someone’s home, in my late 50s and now at 60, I have to recognize that I was genetically predisposed to be strong and hardy. Having been self-employed for five years now in this way, I have gained muscle strength and muscle memory, intuition, insight, and skill at what most of us do only occasionally and sometimes avoid. I’m doing physical labor because I’ve always enjoyed good health, and I like staying busy, and I can’t make as much per hour at anything else I’ve tried.

A side note here, Busy as a Bee: I always thought it strange that people in the Bible “were” their names. Jacob in the Old Testament was a trickster, as his name connotes. In the story of Ruth, Naomi–whose names means pleasant–recognized that she wasn’t and asked people to call her Bitter instead–Mara. I was in my forties when I realized that I am my name. Deborah (though I’m a Debra) is Hebrew for Honey Bee, which explains why I like to be busy. It may also explain that when threatened, I am capable of stinging!

To be willing to consistently serve others in this capacity takes spiritual muscle that I need to exercise every day. I can’t honestly say that I have ever really enjoyed cleaning house, like one enjoys writing books or constructing buildings or teaching school or selling insurance. I learned from my mother that it was mandatory. I don’t recall actually being instructed how to scrub the bathtub, for example; I was just given the tools and the mandate, then suffered her corrections until I had learned to do it “right.” I was sent sometimes to help my Grammy clean house, and I remember it much more fondly, as with most chores done there. Oh she was exacting, mind you, showing me how to correctly dust a five-panel door, but she made things more fun, as grandparents often discover is possible, too late to teach their own children. It’s the way of the generations.

So doing a job I don’t really like causes me to have to put on my big-girl pants and get to it.  An even greater spiritually difficulty is having the humility to spend my energy and time on a rather unglamorous occupation.  I have two college degrees, but neither secretarial work nor teaching school have brought in enough income to support living here at T’will Du Farm.  When I started working part-time doing cleaning, painting, and the like, I never dreamed it would become enough to pay the lion’s share of my expenses.  It has helped me that I don’t take myself very seriously to begin with, and I truly see this as a way to humbly serve others and make their lives better.  Years ago I decided to consistently be kind to and recognize people who were serving me rather than looking past them, ask and use their name, sincerely thank them for their help and service.  That habit served to remind me that I’m made in the image of God, just like every other human being, with no greater status or entitlement than anyone else.  Although it’s not always easy to help others in such a commonplace way, the profit to my soul is a last-shall-become-first blessing I never anticipated.

The greatest legacy one can pass on to one’s children and grandchildren are not money or other material things accumulated in one’s life, but rather a legacy of character and faith.        Billy Graham  

As we pass through this life everyone wants to make their mark, to be remembered for something.  Some men leave great wealth, others it is the impact they make on society as a whole due to their contribution.  For most of us, it is usually smaller in scale; confined to only those who knew us and have lived life along with us, and that would be mainly our family.   As Billy Graham states it’s not about money or material things left behind in which I am glad because I would fall short in that aspect but the most important is my legacy of character and faith.  As my children and grandchildren look back on the life of their Dad/Pop-Pop I hope that those two aspects of my legacy stand out as positive reminders of who I was.  I hope I will leave you with the legacy of a man who treated and cared for others, who tried to keep his word the best he could, someone others could count, who was truthful, and most of all a man whose faith was center of who I was.  As a husband, I hope you saw someone who loved his wife, was hardworking, loving, and faithful.  As a father, someone who loved his children nurtured them by being by their side and guided them by truth and wisdom.    

Losing my father at such a young age affected me greatly.  I realized as I grew older how much I had missed by not having him around.  I made a promise to myself that I would not allow that to happen to my children.  That led to two decisions in my life: marry and have children at a young age and to take care of my health so I can live to old age and enjoy both my children and hopefully grandchildren.  Well the good Lord has blessed me with both wishes and I have truly been blessed.  Marrying and having children young was not without its struggles, as I look back at some of my immaturity.   As I grew older,  a bit wiser and with the foundation of my faith, I have learned from my past mistakes (though still not perfect) and hopefully have left a positive legacy I can be remembered by. 

TO MY CHILDREN

Crystal, I will always have fond memories of your birth and the circumstances surrounding it.  As you know Scotland holds a special place in my heart and I am so glad I had your mother with me to enjoy those years and also that you were born there which provides a special connection you share with us and our time Scotland.  Mom and I were young and really had no clue what being a parent was all about.  We were thrilled when you came into our lives.  I look at pictures of Mom carrying you in the little pouch she placed you in as we walked around Scotland on those windy days with you and my heart is filled with wonderful memories.  Crystal, I also know that you bore the brunt of me being a young immature father.  I made many mistakes over the years with you, allowing my temper to drive my actions far too often.   I truly regret that and if we could get a do-over in life I would take it, but of course, we can’t.  Despite all that I am so proud of the way you have turned out, you are the best daughter.  You are an amazing hardworking person who juggles both motherhood and career and has excelled in both.  You have become an amazing wife to a great husband Ryan, and mother to 3 wonderful children, Brody, Cammy and Keagan.    I can’t wait to return to Scotland one day with all of you so you can see your birthplace. 

Christopher, you were my firstborn son and I was thrilled to have a son to do things with since I had only a short time to do with my own father.  I will always remember the Little League days watching and coaching you, and playing the game I grew up with and loved so much.  My fondest memories were, of course, your 12-year-old year and the summer of All-Stars going to the state tournament, staying at the shore, and how you blossomed in the field and at-bat. Even though the results did not turn out in our favor, I would not trade the memories of that summer. I also have fond memories of our youth group years up at WVC and the many different trips we went on to Arizona, Montana, Florida, and Lake Champion.  I also enjoyed running and playing in the different church softball leagues with you and wish it had not ended so early as I think your Pop had some good years left in his arm, hah.  You have turned out to be an amazing man, you are a great Husband to a wonderful wife Joy.  You couldn’t have picked a better life partner.   You have also become a great father to two beautiful children, Anna & CJ.  I love how your family is the center of your life.  Continue to guide them in love and faith and God will bless you with a great legacy of faith to pass on as he has with me.

Robert, as our last child you came along at a time when Mom and I were beginning to feel the years swiftly go by and were having the feeling our family was not fully complete.  You became a wonderful addition to our family giving Crystal a little brother to spoil and Christopher a buddy to have fun with.  You have benefited from having 4 people (Me, Mom, Crystal, and Christopher) who looked out for you and loved you.  I think of the 3 years I was a Pastor down at Calvary Gospel and how you rarely complained about having to take that 50-minute ride with us every Sunday.  I also look back fondly of your little league years and had fun coaching your all-stars with Christopher.  Also, playing together with you and Chris on the same softball team for a few years was great fun and good memories.  Your outgoing personality and love for life are infectious to many and are the reason everyone loves being around you.  I’ll never forget the day your mom and I dropped you off in Boston for the first time; it was one of the hardest things we ever went through as parents.  We cried all the way home.  Though Boston became a wonderful place to visit you, the separation was always difficult.  We are very proud of the young man you have become and know the future will be a bright one for you and your future family.  I look forward to seeing you as a husband and a father, I know you will be great at both.  I can’t wait to see how your family grows after you and Lizzy are married, I know both of you will have a wonderful life together.  

To the three of you:  I know Nicky’s death was a hard blow to our family and especially to each of you.  You three have experienced something that Mom and I never did, death of someone close to you that was so young.  Let’s use his death as a reminder of how important family is to the joyful experience of life and always remain close to each other, Nicky would want it that way.  Remember, Uncle Ed and Aunt Debbie think the world of the three of you, and I’m sure they feel Nicky’s presence when they are around you.  Thank-you on how you have all kept them close to you.  Aunt Debbie once said to Mom after Nicky’s death, “Your children are my children” and I know she feels that way about the three of you.

TO ALL MY GRAND-CHILDREN – (Present and Future)

I once heard someone say that each one of us is a product of our past, those who came before us and make up our DNA (our family heritage).  In my past, I had two grandfathers, two very different men, one I was close to, and one I barely knew.  My Grandfather Griffith was a complex businessman who I can barely remember having much interaction with.  I was told he was a man who was a bit cold, and not very warming or nurturing.   My other Grandfather (Pop-Pop) was a warm, kind, loving man who was always there for me and my siblings.  We always felt good being around him and comfortable seeking his advice.  He is the reason I took on the name Pop-pop.  Though I want to be like him, I often struggle with the battle inside me between Grandfather Griffith (non-nurturing) and Pop-pop the one who was always there for us.  I hope that as you look back and remember me and how I interacted with you that Pop-pop won that battle most of the time and that you remember me as a loving, nurturing grandfather.  The one who would try to go to your ballgames, and cheer you on, take you on vacations and play on the beach – going on banana boat rides.  I look forward to the many more fun times together.  I am so blessed that God has allowed me to not only see my children grow up but also my grandchildren.  I look forward to the many years ahead, seeing all of you grow and achieve your life’s goals and accomplishments.  One question you will hear in your younger years is this, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”  Now, this is an interesting question, one that you will think about as you grow older and the answer will probably change multiple times.  But I think there is a more important question to be asked, “Who do you want to be when you grow up?”  The first question is about your vocation the second question more importantly  – speaks of your character.  The answer to this question will be formed by “Who your heroes are?”  I pray that the heroes you choose will have the following qualities: Kindness, generosity, courage, humility, forgiveness, and love.  Surround yourselves with people who have these attributes and then strive to be like them – make them your heroes and you will do well in life.   

I want to leave you with the words to this song by Rod Stewart.  I know you may be surprised that I am not leaving you with the words from a Christian song (as there are many I could) but I feel he pretty much sums up in this song all my hopes and feelings for each of your lives.  Though I’m not fully sure what he was trying to convey as there are many different interpretations of this song (some a bit strange) if you watch the music video of this song (on YouTube or my porch swing website where my story is written) he is singing this song to a young child. My interpretation is this: As life goes on many people are beaten down by some of life’s hardships, they tend to focus on the negative things of life and end up becoming bitter and joyless.  For those who travel life with God at their side, focusing on the positive and happy times, and if we live by the golden rule of “treating others the way we want to be treated”, then we will always stay young at heart.  Youth brings the excitement of life, when you are young you are carefree, happy, and filled with joy and hope for a good future.  If you maintain that type of attitude throughout life then you will remain “FOREVER YOUNG”.  God bless you all!!  Love- Dad/Pop-Pop

FOREVER YOUNG by Rod Stewart

May the Good Lord be with you down every road you roam
And may sunshine and happiness surround you when you’re far from home
And may you grow to be proud, dignified, and true, and do unto others as you would have done to you
Be courageous and be brave –  And in my heart, you’ll always stay –   Forever young

May good fortune be with you, may your guiding light be strong
Build a stairway to heaven with a prince or vagabond
And may you never love in vain –  And in my heart, you will remain – Forever young

And when you finally fly away I’ll be hoping that I served you well
For all the wisdom of a lifetime, no one can ever tell
But whatever road you choose –  I’m right behind you, win or lose – Forever young

THE YEAR 1986:  BIG EVENTS/MAIN HEADLINES

It was January 1986 I was 28 years old.  June would be turning the big three-oh in February, Crystal was only 6 and Christopher 4 yrs old.  Some of the big events that would make headline news that year were: the US Space Shuttle, Challenger would explode right after takeoff killing the entire crew including a school teacher named Christa McCaullife.  The US for the first time ever would celebrate the birthday of the slain civil rites activist Dr.Martin Luther King calling it MLK Day.  Gasoline was at a whopping price of .89 cents a gallon, sparking outrage as it inched closer to the unimaginable price of $1.00 per gallon.  Later on that year to my heartbreak, Billy Buckner would let the World Series slip through his legs as the Mets went onto beat my Red Sox in 7 games.  There was another event that happened just as the year began that would never be in the national headlines or even the local paper – but the event altered the course of not only my life but that of my wife and children – it was the day I found Jesus.  It was in 1986 that my story was about to become God’s story and so was the beginning of a greater story.  As I look back,  that day was the culmination of some life moments that I experienced as God pursued me throughout my life.  Let me explain.

GROWING UP WITHOUT GOD      

Though I grew up in a loving family and have many fond memories of my childhood (explained in previous chapters) we were never very religious.   I was told I was baptized into a Methodist church at the age of 2, but I  have very little memory of our family attending church on a regular basis.  I remember being jealous of my friends in Niantic who would go to CCD classes on Saturdays as their Catholic obligation and wished I was with them.  Probably not because I wanted to learn about God but to be with my friends.  I do remember not long before my father passed away, he started to take us to this little Community Church in Niantic on a regular basis.  I even remember attending Sunday School classes.  All that ended after his death.  I often have wondered if he had a “finding Jesus” moment before his death, I will never know the answer until I get to heaven.   When we moved to Randolph, NJ we didn’t attend church but my mom became friends again with a childhood friend, Pauline Taraska.  She had a son my age, Joe who I talked about in the Randolph chapter.   Pauline had become a “born-again” Christian and her son Joe invited me to a Friday night program he attended at Bethlehem Church in Randolph called Boys Brigade.  It was similar to a boy scout program, we would play games, learn survival skills, went on outdoor outings, the only difference is we would also learn about Jesus.  I enjoyed going for all the fun stuff and would even listen to the bible stories.  There was a young ranger named Todd Moffat who was a bit over-zealous for the Lord and seemed to target me every Friday night trying to get me to “accept Jesus” into my life.  Finally one night I gave in to his badgering and said the “sinners prayer” with him in the stairwell of the church.  I really didn’t mean it as when I got outside and saw Joe, we both started to laugh.  Around the 10th or  11^th grade, I stopped going and got into the normal teen life of girls and partying (described in the previous chapter).  Though I placed God on the back burner, the beginning foundation would be laid, God wasn’t done with me.

THE NAVY AND OKINAWA JAPAN

When I arrived in Okinawa Japan in 1976, I was an 18-year-old Sailor.   I was away from home halfway around the world, living in a foreign culture, with no friends.  These three elements created my first real experience with homesickness.  I was placed on a work party waiting for my clearance to begin work and was befriended by a guy who happened to be a “born-again” Christian.  He invited me to his house for dinner with him and his wife and even picked me up on a couple of Sundays to take me to church with them.  Soon after that, he introduced me to two young missionaries he knew.  They were both young single guys possible in their 20’s or early 30’s, had long hair and rode around the island on motorcycles, basically, I thought they were pretty cool.  At first, I spent a lot of time with them, riding around the back of their motorcycles, attending a Bible study at their homes.  During this time I could feel myself being drawn to the message.  I remember one night one of them drove me on the back of his motorcycle to the top of a road.  The road was one of the main roads in a town with lots of bars and clubs lining the road.  Many young service people spent time on this road having fun drinking.  At the other end of the road at the top of the hill, there was a bar that had these yellow and red lights on the outside that gave the illumination of fire coming off the building. The name of the bar was called “The Pit”.  He points to the building and said,  “All who venture down this road and live this lifestyle (bars and clubs) eventually end up in the “pit of hell” and he pointed to the club called “The Pit”.  I wish I could say that was when I turned my life over to Jesus, but I didn’t.  Soon after that, I started to make other friends, stopped hanging out with them, and went back to the normal life of a guy my age of drinking and partying.  I again placed God in the back burner because I wasn’t ready to change my life,  but he wasn’t done with me yet.

THE DREAM

The Bible has multiple stories of God speaking to people through dreams: Jacob, Joseph, King Solomon, and two men simply referred to as a baker and a butler, were just some that are mentioned.  Now I’m not placing myself in any of their categories but I mention that to make a point.  God communicates with people in various ways: through visions, signs and wonders, angels, and dreams.  I believe it was how he finally got my attention after 15 years of trying.  One night in January 1986 I went to sleep and had a dream.  The dream was about me riding in my pickup truck down my street toward my house.  In my dream, I then heard a news report over the radio that all the “good”  people in the world have suddenly disappeared.  In the next scene of my dream, I was running into my house trying to find my family.  In the back bedroom both my children (Crystal and Christopher) were sitting on the floor crying that “Mommy had disappeared”.  The next part is strange but all of a sudden I was being lifted into the air and I remember screaming “No Lord” leave me alone I need to be with my children”.  The next scene I remember, I loaded my kids in my truck and started to drive.  There was a group of people sitting in the back of my truck, telling me to hurry as if we had to get somewhere.  This part of the dream I’ve never understood but I then pulled into a gas station with people standing there with a sign that said “free gas”.  When I pulled in they started to attack us for some reason, but I fought them off and drove away.  Then, in the next scene, we drove to the foot of this mountain and we all started to run up the hill trying to get away from something.  As I was running up the hill I turned around and saw that the entire earth was on fire.  I then woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.  I got up for work and that dream was bothering me, I wasn’t sure what it meant but I just knew it had some meaning.  When I arrived at work that day I couldn’t get it out of my mind.  I then told this co-worker at my work about the dream. I’ll never forget her face.  She looked at me with a surprised/scared look and said: “Steve Rapsas told me that the Bible mentions something like that happening one day (people disappearing)”.  Steve was a “born-again” Christian.  I liked him but never really talked to him about the Bible as I was not really interested (been there, heard it, not interested).   I called Steve into my office to tell him about the dream, he looked at me in a strange way and said ‘it sort of sounds like you dreamt about the rapture”.  Now I had no idea what he meant so he went on to tell me that the Bible talks about Jesus coming back and taking all the Christians out of the world (1 Thessalonians 4:13-17).  The next day he gives me a Bible and a Bible pamphlet called “The 4 Spiritual Laws” to read.  The track basically says that we are all sinners and are separated from God.  It pictures a man standing on a cliff with another cliff on the other side that represented where God was, with a gap in between both cliffs.   It showed how all our attempts to get to God through our own efforts (being good, going to church, being religious) is not enough to bridge the gap or get to the other side.  Then one page shows a cross laying across the gap to God.  That cross represented the death of Jesus on the cross and how it provided the way to get to God(on the other side).  I thought about that track for a whole week.  That next weekend June and I went down to South Jersey to visit my two Navy friends Al Nagle and Tom Hinkleman.  One night we all went out to a bar, it was one week before the Superbowl (Chicago vs Patriots).  As we were sitting there drinking and listening to the music, I remember looking up and looked around the bar at all the people drinking, laughing, and dancing.  Then suddenly it was as if God said to my mind “you don’t belong here anymore, I have something different for you”.  I remember sort of sobering up and pushed my beer away and didn’t take another drink the rest of the night.  That next week I kept thinking about the dream,  what Steve said, the message in the Bible pamphlet, and what happened in the bar.   I started thinking about the other two times I heard the same message about Jesus dying on the cross for me for my sins – at Boys Brigades and in Okinawa Japan from those missionaries.  I thought to my self – “this is the third time I have heard this message, I rejected it twice if I reject it again will it be “3 strikes and I’m out?”, “Will God give me another chance or will he give up on me if I reject him a third time?”.  I went into my bedroom, got down on my knees, and prayed to accept Jesus’ death on the cross for the forgiveness for my sins and asked him to come into my life.  I knew at that moment I was changed, I felt a peace come over me.   God’s plan for me had come to fruition – my life and my family’s lives were about to change.

WHERE DO I GO FROM HERE

I started reading the Bible, hanging out with Steve at lunch to learn more, and trying to share with June what I was learning.  She thought I was nuts, told me she already believed in God, and to leave her alone, which I did.  I figured I needed to start going to church but didn’t know whereas June and I rarely went to church. Since June was Catholic I went to St. Margaret’s where we had Crystal and Christopher christened (though we never attended).  After a few times of going, I just felt like it was not a place for me and started looking in the yellow pages for a church.  I found one located in Morristown up in the Jockey Hollow area.  I went to the church by myself one morning and walked into a lively music and people clapping and singing, which I enjoyed.  I then started to hear people talk in a strange language, the Bible calls it “tongues”, and thought “I will never get June to walk into this place”, and left.  I then remembered I had heard that my old high school friend Dave Akromas (who I went into the Navy with) had become “born-again.  Even though we had not talked in years I found his number from his parents and called him. He told me that our friend Scott McGill had also become a Christian, remember he rode with Dave and me on the train to Newark when we left for the Navy.  Dave told me about a small church right near my house where he was baptized, called “Washington Valley Chapel”.  I had lived in Morristown at that point for 6 years but had never been on that road.  I visited that church by myself (June told me she would go to church when I found one I liked).  I remember walking in, everyone being friendly, the place had a family feel and I liked the service.  I walked out of there thinking, “I think I have found a church home for me and my family.  For the next 15 years, Washington Valley Chapel would be our church home, the center of our social life, the place we would not only grow in our Christian faith but would give us many special friends and memories.

GOD NOT DONE WITH ME

Well, God was not through with me.  Within a couple of years, I was beginning to feel the urge to go into ministry.  At first, I just ignored it but the urge would not go away.  Any time I mentioned it to June she just shut down the conversation.  She was just getting settled into our new life of going to church weekly, getting more involved at church, and now this – it was too much for her to think about.  I wasn’t even sure how to pursue such a calling?  Wouldn’t I have to attend seminary? How much would that cost? Where would I serve? We are beginning to love Morristown and in 1986 we even purchased my grandparent’s home from my mother, so now I had a mortgage to pay.   At that time we had another child – Robert who was born in 1992.  So between having to pay a mortgage and raise a family of 3 children, pursuing ministry seemed almost impossible.  So to make sure this urge was not just from me but was from God, I started to write down things that would have to start to come true. I would love to serve at my current church WVC but we already had 4 Pastors serving at a small church.   Suddenly each Pastor began to leave, one was Pastor Scott Dee who was the Youth Pastor.  The church needed someone to take over and I volunteered and loved working with kids.  Next, I couldn’t quit my job and go to seminary so how would I train for ministry and get ordained.  Suddenly Pastor Charlie Harrah talked about a new program the CMA was offering, one that would train laypeople in the church who are called to ministry, right at the church they are already serving in, without having to quit their jobs and attend seminary.    I couldn’t believe my ears, I could pursue ministry without having to attend seminary.   Lastly, June needed to be on board, I needed her blessing.  Well, she finally felt that if this was God’s will then I should pursue it.  I then enrolled in a program that would take me almost 8 years to complete, all while never having to leave Morristown.  I served as the Youth Pastor for WVC while still working in the computer field at ADP.  A couple of years into the program I felt the urge to walk away from my job at ADP and concentrate more on ministry.  At first, they asked me to stay part-time which I did, then finally when that position was over, I left a good-paying job I had held for 13 years, to pursue ministry.  To help pay the bills I did any job I could to make money, from delivering flowers for a florist, painting houses, cleaning gutters, and doing part-time landscaping.  At one point a father of a friend of Crystal asked me to write online training programs for a few companies he was consulting with, that job lasted one year.  As soon as that ended, ADP called me back to work part-time to help with the Y2K conversion – that job lasted almost 3 years.  I even started my own vending machine business, thinking I was going to make lots of money, which I didn’t, but I tried.  Finally, I got my Real Estate Appraiser’s license and have been doing that work ever since.   So all that just to say, God always provided a way for us to stay financially afloat.  I even remember someone once dropped off a bag of money on our steps with $500.00 in it.  It was not always easy, there were times when I wasn’t sure how we were going to keep going, but God always came through and provided.  Then finally in 2001, I became an ordained minister in the Christian and Missionary Alliance.  Even during the ministry years, when one ministry ended there was another opportunity waiting, and we never had to sell our house and move.  After WVC ended, I was asked to take on a dying church in South Brunswick.  So for 3 years me, June, and Robert would commute almost 50 minutes to serve at Calvary Gospel.  When I felt God calling me away from that church, I left with no real future prospects.  I even told June I may be done in ministry as I don’t know where to go from here, that was in 2004.  Within 2 weeks I found out from some old friends of ours who were at WVC with us, the Mecalls, that they were involved in a prayer group comprised of people who had just left a church and were hoping to plant a new church somewhere.   I began to attend the prayer group and there I met Pastor Pete Amerman.  They soon saw me as a potential leader and asked me to join with Pastor Pete and begin a new church with them.  I mentioned to them that Morristown would be a great place, but where?  It was then that a friend of Pete’s who was a manager for Clearview Theaters told us we could open a church right in Morristown at one of his theaters.  So on Easter weekend in 2006, we started a new church called “The Well Christian Ministry”.  The church was in existence for 5 years when the theaters informed us they were closing and we had to find a new place.  Both Pete and I felt this may be the end and informed our people that we may be closing the church for good.  We then received a call from the CMA district office when they informed us that a church in Parsippany had just lost their Pastor, was down to about 20 people, and would possibly have to close.  They asked us if we would consider merging with them and start yet again another new church.  So in 2011, we started a new church in Parsippany called “Living Waters Church”, with Pete as the Lead and I as the Associate Pastor.  In 2016, Pete had to step down from the lead position and the church asked me to become their new Lead Pastor.  I would then serve as the Lead Pastor for the next 4 years.   In 2019, I felt the need to step down as the Lead Pastor of LWC and was ready to move on from the ministry.  I was asked to stay around and help with the transition to the next Pastor.   So at the writing of this book in mid 2020,  I am currently serving on a transitional team of 4 Pastors leading the church into the next phase.  I am anticipating moving on to the next phase of my spiritual journey at the end of August 2020.  A journey that began in 1996 as the Youth Pastor of WVC, a journey that has taken many turns, trusting God all the way and He has never failed us.  I am ready to trust him for the next phase where ever it takes us.  Only God knows what is next – stay tuned. 

CONCLUSION

All this to say, in life, you never know where God is going to lead you. Proverbs 16:9 says “In his heart, a man plans his course, but it is the lord that determines his steps”.  In my heart, my life was pretty much planned out.  I had a wonderful family, a nice job and everything was going along just fine.    But in 1986, God intervened and changed the direction of my life.  In that time he has walked with me and my family, never leaving us or forsaking us as he promises his people in Deuteronomy 31:6.  Has it always been easy? No, safe? No. Then again, that is life itself, filled with ups and downs, failures and successes, good and bad.  You can try to go it alone, without him, or choose to have him guide you.  In the early part of my life, I kept running from God and he kept pursuing me – finally, I surrender gave him control of my life and have never looked back.  I’m glad he didn’t give up on me and has been with me and always will be.  There is a song by Tenth Avenue North that I placed on my books web site called “CONTROL”,  you can also find it on youtube – I hope you take time to listen to it as it reflects my life story -giving up control of my own life and handing it over to the one who knows me best.  I hope you do the same.  God Bless – Dad, Pop-pop