Things I Learned from R. B. (March 29th, 2020)


Jonathots Daily Blog

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Episode 9

Bequeathed upon the teller of a tale is a sacred trust to be accurate and truthful.

The two are not the same.

Accuracy requires dates, times, locations—yet spins the story by using the bias of the narrator.

Truth, on the other hand, is unflinching, insisting that what was everlasting be presented without coloration or commentary.

For this reason, I will not tell you the whole odyssey of our brief, five-month stay in Mobile by the Bay. I might be tempted to use accuracy to place the pieces of the occurrences in the exact position which might make you feel sorry for me – or pronounce me innocent.

I was not innocent.

I was young, arrogant, unaccustomed to being told what to do and I had too much talent to be placed in such a small vessel of possibility. The result was outbreaks of jealousy, anger, resentment and vicious rumor.

The worst part of the journey came when my middle son was hit and run by a car, and after a three-month stay in the hospital, ended up in a vegetative state, demanding constant care-giving.

Now, when we were able to bring Joshua home from the hospital, I was sitting in my living room one chilly October morning, having negotiated a severance deal with the church which allowed us to stay and be paid through the end of November, perched deep in thought when the phone rang.

To my astonishment, it was R. B.

Accurately, he, too, had suffered some setbacks on his quest in Minnesota for his new job. The truth I never really knew.

We told him of our predicament and he asked if he could join us, and travel with us to the next location—wherever that might be—and continue our lives in a much different framework than the optimism that permeated us upon arriving at the small church in Alabama.

I was lonely.

I was disturbed.

I was anxious for someone to hear my representation of the accuracy of our experience—without ever seeking for the truth.

I welcomed R. B.

He, too, was in need of a sounding board.

That’s what we did. For about a solid month, while I was auditioning for other positions, taking care of my son and trying to line up the dollars in my bank account like good soldiers, we commiserated and dreamed of more to come.

R. B. and I found each other over despair.

Yet how far can two crippled men travel together before they resent one another?

Good News and Better News … March 7th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2866)

wilmington composite

2:42 A.M.

I am suddenly awake.

It is a ritual I follow every Saturday night before the Sunday morning sharing of my heart with a congregation. This week it was Lutheran Church of Reconciliation in Wilmington, North Carolina with Pastor Bill.

What wakes me up at that early hour is a mingling of excitement, inadequacy, a hint of fear and wonder. Yes, I wonder if I can get enough of “me” out of the way to be able to feel for those around me.

For I will tell you–the good souls of Lutheran Church of Reconciliation deserve more than a pompous ass. Even though I don’t view myself in that manner, it doesn’t hurt to take a few moments to scour the soul for hidden dirt in the corners.

That’s why I have posted a picture of my pillow. During those late night sessions, my pillow becomes my sounding board as I muse some important questions:

1. Can I get rid of my anger?

We’re all angry. We all have an axe to grind. We all have unrequited feelings that whine at us. But they are useless when we are interfacing with our brothers and sisters.

2. Can I find my weakness?

Jesus said when I’m weak I’m strong.

Why? Because talking about our strengths is easily misinterpreted as boasting instead of reality. Sharing our weaknesses links us with others who are duly reminded of some shortcomings of their own.

Which leads me to:

3. Exploit it.

Yes. Exploit my weaknesses. Giggle about them. Tell stories that show how these frailties have failed me–but the grace of God has saved me. This brings me to:

4. Chase away my fear.

My greatest fear is that I will be exposed for my foibles. If I share my own mistakes, the human race does not have to expose me. Which concludes with:

5. Let love laugh.

  • Love is fine when it speaks.
  • Love is better when it hugs.
  • But love is supreme when it laughs.

Yes, a full-hearted laugh at my humanity lets you know that I believe that God will see me through.

When I finally get peace over these five, sleep slips back in. I’m ready.

That’s the good news.

The better news is that when I take the time to prepare my heart, I have the right tool to open the hearts of others. These beautiful people in Wilmington did just that.

One man shared with me the spine-tingling story of his calling from God.

Another lady was dealing with a nasty email, which she decided to answer with gentleness.

Yet another gentleman came up with a memory of using his talent.

And there was a woman with a painful event from her past which had been eased by the sweetness of Spirit.

They tell us that people in America are angry. Here’s the truth: angry people attack, which causes other angry people to attack back. Disappointed folks hurt–but cheerful souls heal.

So what is my mission?

Get America to be of good cheer.

 

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