Sand Script

For the love of Christ controls us-- 2 Cor 5:14A

Ah, our yearly pilgrimage to Gulf Shores, AL for the Spring Break Baseball Tournament. And what a nice way to keep an eye on your teenage boy! My wife ‘ran into’ my son walking down the beach with his girlfriend, and in his eyes, the only thing worse would have been to run into me with my shirt off. Don't worry, ain't gonna happen-- I will leave that stunt up to some pasty guy from Minnesota with black socks and velcro strapped Pumas.

I love the beach, and wrote a blog about the beauty of what we call the Emerald Coast back in Sept. entitled Water Colors (click here and scroll down to Sept 5, 2006). People are also of great interest to me at the beach, as humans seem to drift away into a Jimmy Buffet mentality and become so approachable and friendly.

I spent a couple of mornings with some ‘snow birds’, those smart Yankees who follow the same migratory pattern annually and leave Canada, Michigan, Wisconsin, and all of those other Great Lakes states and spend their winter months and their retirement dollars in Alabama. We southerners have come a long way since the Civil War; we love Yankees…with money. Seriously, I found these folks to be intriguing and all you have to do is ask a leading question and they are more than happy to fill in the blanks. People love to talk about their lives and especially their families. And you can learn a lot about life, if you take the time to listen.

I met a mother and her two boys in the elevator one afternoon, and guessed they were from up north before they opened their mouths.
“How did ya know?” one of the boys asked.
“You guys have on wet swim suits; no respectable southerners are going in the Gulf this time of year!” I replied.
The mom laughed and said they were from St. Louis. The boys assured me that the water wasn’t that cold, at least after 20 minutes. But it’s those 20 minutes…..whew! In August, the Gulf is like a nice warm bath. In March, we leave it to the Yankees.

My mornings were consumed with long walks along the beach listening to songs on my IPOD like “Drift Away” by Dobie Gray , “Lean on Me” by Bill Withers, and “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay" by Otis Redding. It was pure heaven watching the sunrise create those golden crinkles on the turquoise water.

One morning, I came upon some writing in the sand that caused me to stop. For some reason, I snapped a picture of what I saw carved in the sand: “Hunter Wilson Alabama 2007”. I pondered for a moment, and decided that Hunter was probably a lot like the pre teen boys from St. Louis I had met in the elevator: A young kid so impressed with his first trip to the beach that he just had to leave his mark.

It made me think. We all want to count, we all want to leave our mark, it seems to be part of our nature as humans. A kid scratching his name in the sand. A snow bird telling me about her grand kids. I have said many times “I don’t care what others think of me” but it is simply not true. We do care, and Jesus knew it. He said that the second commandment is to love your neighbor as YOURSELF. We are supposed to love ourselves? Wait...didn't He tell us to deny ourselves, take up our cross and follow Him?

For me, this quest for self worth, this leaving one’s mark, is answered through the preceding commandment, the greatest of all, when Jesus told the scribe: And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength. (Mk 12:30) It is in the security that, as I turn my heart towards Him, I count for something because HE makes it so. His follow up to denying yourself was that if you lose your life in Him, you will find it. For in the finding, you will leave your mark, for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure. (Phil 2:13).

I am still meditating on the scripture in Acts I used in writing about my friend Steve:

In Him we live and move and have our being. Acts 17:28

He makes us count for something.

Hunter Wilson, here’s believing that, as you wrote your name in the wet sand in Gulf Shores Alabama, God will write His Word in your heart, and in His Book of Life.

Mark
Prov 17:23

Interregnum

Wow, what a cool word, Reader's Digest always said to increase your word power. And that is what I am going to do for a week or so, take a short interregnum. Check back soon, I am going to recharge the batteries!

Mark

Salt of the Earth

You are the salt of the earth... Matt 5:13
From 1972-1974, I spent many a day hanging out in this parking lot, the student lot at Enterprise High School. A happy guy in a '63 Volkswagen, an Army brat with many friendships from Ft. Rucker and Enterprise alike. On March 1, 2007, a huge F3 tornado ravaged my adopted home town in Enterprise, Alabama and destroyed the high school that my brother, sister, and I graduated from. Many of you have seen the devastation; the event garnered national media attention and a presidential visit .

This is the sec- ond time I have revisited a severe weather incident that affected me personally. The first time was back in Nov. 2006 (See Nov. Archives, Storms of Life) when a large tornado indiscriminately demolished a skating rink and some apartments a few miles from my home. I don’t want to rehash the thoughts written in November; it was a rather introspective piece. That doesn’t mean I haven't asked why these 8 sweet young kids had to leave this world way too soon 9 days ago. But this time I have tried to focus on the goodness of God’s people throughout our state, and especially that area of the southeastern corner called ‘the Wiregrass Region". These stories are not urban legend. I have read most of them in the local papers; they speak of the soul of these fine friends of mine in Coffee County and the surrounding area. They reflect Jesus' strong analogy: You are the salt of the earth. These stories identify a people who rolled up their sleeves and didn’t wait around for someone to come rescue them.

The presidential visit was wonderful, and whatever your opinion is of George Bush, he does well on the ground with hurting people. Yet, it is left up to the local folks to put their lives back in order. Here are just a few personal stories that have helped me not to turn inward, but upward:

Botany teacher Shannon Bridges threw herself on student Hannah Jones as the tornado barreled through the high school. The girl escaped with minor injuries, but the teacher lay covered in cinder blocks. She was taken to the local hospital with six broken ribs, two collapsed lungs and multiple lacerations. She is going to make it. And so is her baby, Mrs. Bridges is 5 months pregnant. "I never knew a teacher could love like that, please tell her how much I love her," Hannah said from the hospital.

Courtney Bowden was new to Enterprise High. A 'fellow Army brat' whose father, an Army Chaplain, had just been reassigned to Ft. Rucker, Courtney was going through that tough time of readjusting to an entirely new school environment. Two boys who she didn’t know laid on top of her as the school collapsed. Brent Smith and Dylan Lewis pushed the wall off of themselves and dug Courtney out. Both boys continued the rescue efforts,despite broken bones, cuts and contusions. "I think that it is incredible that two guys who don’t know my name could save my life," Courtney stated.

Many local churches began providing assistance to the hurting long before the relief agencies arrived. This doesn’t surprise me in the least; these are believers who would rather put their faith into action and crank a chain saw instead of blaming FEMA for their woes. The local Methodist churches began feeding the victims and Red Cross volunteers immediately. The area Baptist churches formed disaster relief teams and opened the First Baptist Church as a center for homeless victims from the storm. The National Lutheran Disaster Relief Team is working with local Baptists to find homes for those left homeless by the tornado. "All of our churches, all of our denominations are coming together in this time of disaster," one Christian leader remarked.

And this from the Montgomery Advertiser (newspaper):

On Friday, Betty Sanders drove her Nissan pickup down Main Street. In the back were two large coolers filled with bottled water and soft drinks.
"I can't run a chain saw, and I can't fix roofs," said the 67-year-old Ozark resident. "I'm doing what I can. At least all these folks helping won't go thirsty -- not if I can help it."
The town is eager to show its appreciation. An Alabama Power Co. repair crew working near the high school couldn't believe the reception they have received.
"We can hardly get any work done because people keep shaking our hands and thanking us," said one lineman. "These are folks that have lost everything they own. At times like this, you realize this is more than just a job."

Fund raising started immediately all over the state of Alabama. My son’s school, sharing the Enterprise mascot name "Wildcats", challenged the students to bring some money for the relief effort. Instead of school uniforms, they could wear jeans and Tshirts with a donation. That’s all they needed to know. Almost $4000 came in one day this week. Many other schools are doing similar projects, even having contests among the freshman through senior classes. One Montgomery Television station raised over $75,000 in a day from a quickly organized telethon. Courtney, in the story above? Her former school in Muscatine, Iowa heard about her miraculous rescue, and took up a collection for Enterprise High at the school's spring concert.

Finally, in a touching tribute to help these kids return to some sense of normalcy, a high school in Panama City FL. is raising money to have the Enterprise High Jr-Sr Prom at the beach, all expenses paid. A school in Dothan, AL, has kicked in $5000 to help with the effort.

My prayers are especially with the families who lost those eight wonderful kids recently. There will be many incidents of human love and kindness that will help them heal. The thing that I can say in all confidence about the people from the Wiregrass Area is that the above examples are not some knee-jerk reactions. These acts will continue...and continue...and continue, like shaking salt out of an endless shaker.

My peeps, 1974

Enterprise High School Parking Lot

Mark