An ex-Brit speaks on national health care.

My friend "William" was born in the UK. He was educated in the UK. He graduated from the Royal Naval Academy & served in the Royal Navy as a Commander of Her Majesties vessels throughout the Royal Naval Fleet. After retiring as a naval officer he joined a multi-national corporation and worked with many European governments, including the UK. He realized the British system was growing larger and less free while requiring more and more of his taxes to support more and more "free" services. He came to the USA as a VP of a large international technology company. Since that time, "William" and his wife have become citizens of the USA. His views expressed here are as a man who loves both his home nation and his new home. His identity will be kept secret as he is stilling working in the medical technology field. Big brother could be watching.

A couple of weeks ago I lost a very dear friend. Charlie and I met when we were cabin-mates at the UK Naval Academy nearly forty years ago and though our careers had taken each of us in different directions (his into becoming a fast jet jockey and mine into the rather more sedate surface fleet) we had remained friends throughout the years and always stayed in touch. When he left the navy he carried on flying with a defense related organization, about which he shared many stories but only a few intriguing but frustratingly sparse details.

At work about eighteen months ago, having just landed and parked his aircraft, Charlie was walking through the hangar when he was felled by a massive brain haemorrhage. Fortunately he was surrounded by people who knew what to do in such circumstances, and he had been walking through the home hangar of the local the air ambulance, which delivered him to the area accident and emergency (UK National Health Service) hospital within minutes. It took several very anxious days for Charlie to wake up, and even longer to regain the full use of all his faculties, by which time the entire medical staff had become fully conversant with the pleasures and perils of night flying at fifty feet at nearly 600 mph over parts of the world they had never heard of. He probably omitted to mention that he had been a lot younger at the time. However, I am told that one rather ill-informed but 'know-it-all' individual had the temerity to challenge Charlie about the 'below fifty feet' claim and said that he happened to know that the designed limit for that type of aircraft at that speed was above 200 feet. “Ah” said Charlie. “That's the one they reserve for the guy who doesn't suffer from vertigo”.

For the longest time during his recovery the doctors couldn't figure out why Charlie's blood tests always came back with readings that were alarmingly abnormal, and so stubbornly resistant to corrective medication. His wife, who is not a lady easily ignored, insisted on further investigations and eventually, but hopelessly too late, the advanced metastasized prostate cancer was revealed. You see, under a single payer health system such as that found beyond our borders, investigative research and diagnosis beyond the issue immediately at hand, in this case a brain haemorrhage, is not the norm. It incurs an additional and possibly 'uncontrolled' cost on the system.

And making a bad situation worse there is this. During treatment for the cancer Charlie's doctor told him that there was a drug that he felt would be particularly helpful but, because of the very high price of the drug he was unable to prescribe it on a NHS prescription. So, after a family conference regarding what savings and other assets might be gathered together Charlie and his wife went back to the doctor and told him that though the cost of the drug would swallow almost everything they had put aside, they had decided to go ahead and pay for it. To which the doctor replied, "I am so very sorry. When we last spoke I did not know what I must now tell you. I have been informed that if you elect to pay for that drug yourself you will, by definition, be electing to remove yourself from my care, and that of the NHS, and you would have to find and pay for any further treatment privately".

So I ask you to consider whether or not the true story above could possibly be an example of a third party coming between the doctor and the patient, or is it a simple case of rationing brought about by a disproportionate share of healthcare funds being swallowed by administrative costs rather than on patient care? Or is it all of the above? I suspect it is the latter for to provide healthcare services to sixty million UK inhabitants, of which twenty-nine million comprise the working population, over 1.4 million are employed by the National Health Service. A report I saw the other day informed me that the UK NHS is the world's third largest direct employer, after the Chinese army and the National Railway of India. A replication of the UK system in the US, or even a close approximation of it, could easily employ 7 million public pay-roll people without the addition of a single doctor. What a very convenient and reliably compliant electoral power base that would be.

Interviewed on Bill O'Reilly last night Dr. Brian Day, former President of the Canadian Healthcare Association made a number of interesting remarks. Among other things he said that 14% of Canadians do not have a family physician, said that rationing is a major problem in Canada and stated that out of the population that is just one-tenth the size of the United States, they have 1 million people waiting for surgeries, and another 1 million waiting to see a specialist for their condition. He also pointed out that a significant number of Canadians die needlessly because they were unable to get an ambulance to take them to the emergency room. The reason? You need separate insurance for an ambulance ride. See the video at http://209.157.64.201/focus/f-bloggers/2321143/posts

So, at the acceptable risk of being labelled an astroturf mobster I find myself implacably opposed to the various versions of the proposed healthcare reform bill washing around Capitol Hill. I’m opposed not because I believe our healthcare system is just fine and dandy the way it is, but because I believe that the solution to the shortcomings of the system in no way support a wholesale takeover by the government. I am insulted by those who tell me that such a takeover can be achieved without adding to the economic deficit. I am angered by those who would have me accept at face value their assertion that somehow, despite overwhelming international evidence to the contrary, that a couple of hundred politically motivated ideologues are capable of succeeding where the rest of the world has so demonstrably and unarguably failed. And I am enraged by politicians who do not read bills, but who are nevertheless content to rush them into law without giving me and millions of others the chance to consider and comment. That’s not democracy, that’s government by dictat. And they call my objections ‘un-American’? How dare they!

Conservative Americans agree that nobody should be left impoverished and/or homeless just because they got sick. They believe that nobody should have healthcare insurance denied or withdrawn because they fall victim to a disease or major ailment; that’s not insurance. They accept that there are probably some 17 million people who through distressed circumstances have less than adequate access to quality healthcare, and they are anxious for that need to be addressed. And they also recognize that the scourge of unemployment, particularly when it is accelerated and exacerbated by reckless, frivolous and wasteful government spending, adds to the ranks of those that become uninsured.

But they don’t accept that the solution to these and other problems lies in the creation of a bloated, unelected, unaccountable and perpetual bureaucracy. They do believe that someone who is harmed by medical or any other malpractice or incompetence should be properly and fairly compensated, but they don’t believe that the fool who bites into an apple turnover still bubbling from an extended session in the micro-wave should receive hundreds of millions of dollars for their stupidity. So why not tort reform? Could there be a powerful interest group or two at work?

And finally, for those who believe that the defeat and banishment of the current healthcare reform bills will allow them to sleep peacefully once more, I’m afraid I have some disturbing news. The American Recovery and Re-investment Act (HR 1), also known as ‘the stimulus bill’, - the one that nobody bothered to read before it was rushed into law, - contains all the new healthcare rules and information technology infrastructure, together with the necessary funding, for the current administration to achieve a very large part of what they are seeking to enforce through the healthcare reform bills. Don't believe me...................?

For details, go to http://www.rules.house.gov/111/LegText/111_hr1_text.pdf, and read:

Division A, TITLE IX—LABOR, HEALTH AND HUMAN SERVICES, AND EDUCATION starting on or about page 129, and,

Division B, TITLE IV—HEALTH INFORMATION TECHNOLOGY starting on or about page 395.

Certainly it creates several new agencies and off-shoots of agencies and czars, and it also mandates the introduction of electronic health records, the better to strip fraud and abuse from the system - and also adjust physician reimbursement rates. There is much there that if used by safe hands there is every expectation that huge financial savings can be won. Unfortunately however, those safe hands are self evidently not available in Washington.

Oh! About Charlie. Well he cheated the cancer, but at way too high a price. He was fifty-eight. He spent his life defending the land that he loved. He leaves a wife and two fine adult sons.

While resting at home after a heavy dose of chemo, he succumbed to a stroke that occurred in almost exactly the same position as his first haemorrhage.

I wonder why they didn’t fix that in the first place. May he rest in peace.

Obama? McCain? Sometimes you just need a good story.

We are two months from one of the longest presidential election cycles of my memory.
Over 18 months ago, the dems and repubs who wanted the Oval office began to make ready for the primaries. We have had more debates, town hall meetings and political commentary than even this politico can stand. Reading blogs yesterday, I was struck by two. One talking about the value and sacrifice of the men who serve in the military, the other about the memories of a great mother. With all the hubbub of politics swirling, it is good to hear and reflect on good stories of amazing Americans.


CrankyProfessor

My Friend Larry

It's all about the stories...

Shelley and I were in Wake Forest last evening. We decided to stop at the local Chili's and have dinner. We were seated quickly and our waitress came to the table to take our drink order. I noticed a very swirly tattoo script poking under the edge of her t-shirt sleeve and decided I would ask about her tattoo when she brought out our drinks. When she returned and served our drinks I asked about the tattoo, she lifted the sleeve and revealed a very neat tattoo script that said "Bad Girl". She was quick to fold the sleeve back in place and lifted her right sleeve and there was one word and two dates,
1998
Brandon
2003
She spoke very plainly, "This is my memorial tattoo to Brandon".

I love the art of tattoos. The body as a canvas, moving, walking, traveling, always with a piece of art attached. Like all art, there is good and there is bad. I know a good tattoo when I see one and I know a bad tattoo when etched permanently in the skin.
I flip through the tattoo magazines and tattoo art books at Barnes and Noble on a regular basis, just to enjoy the beauty of the art form. I have no tattoos, nor do I plan on ever getting a tattoo. If you have them great, if you want one, get it. I have one caution, pay the money for a good artist and good artwork. Remember, a tattoo could last for thousands of years.

Back to dinner with my wife. Our waitress (Katrina) took our food order and I determined I would ask her about the memorial tattoo when a proper moment arrived. Our food came quickly and we enjoyed our time together. When Katrina brought the check, she lingered just a moment at the table, I asked her to tell me the story of her memorial tattoo. Her words were simple, "This is a memorial to my 15 year old brother who was killed by a CO2 cylinder from a piantball gun. He was cleaning the gun , when the cylinder flew off, struck him in the forehead and he died.
There is a website that talks about it and the other folks who have died or been injured." Katrina then flashed a purple wrist band with the website address clearly printed, "paintballdangers.com". She continued, "When I am in a grocery store or other places, young guys think my tattoos are cool, then I tell them the story of Brandon and give them the website. I hope it might help someone else avoid the pain." You could tell by the conviction in her voice and the concise wording of her story that she had told it many times.

I wondered about the pain of her family. The loss, the suddenness, her drive to tell others to be careful.

I have found most tattoos have a story, many times the story is of hurt and pain and loss. Other stories are of drunken craziness or joy, to remember a good time or significant event. Tattoos are bookmarks in the memory that cause people to remember and re-create the emotions of the moment locked in ink under the skin. They are billboards filled with the passion of life, the pictures in the story book of human journey.

Katrina wears her tattoo to remember and hopes others will take time to ask and to listen to her tale.

How many folks do you meet on a weekly basis who carry art work on their bodies?
Have you ever taken the time to ask about the story behind the art? What kind of spiritual conversation might be started by a curious question? Are you brave enough to ask? Do you have a story that should be told in ink on your body? If Jesus were here, would he carry body art to tell the story of God?
Oh, by the way, Shelley and I did NOT take Jesus with us to the Chili's...Jesus was already there when we arrived;-)

Marietta GA, weddings, shrimp and family

We have just returned from a fews days of travel. On Saturday morning we left the home school conference bound for Marietta, GA. The reason for the road trip was to visit by brother and family and officiate the wedding of my oldest niece. By 9pm we arrived at my brothers home and found all the family just finishing dinner. My parents were there, both nieces, my nephew, my great niece and nephew, sister-in-law and the new groom.

Olivia(my niece) and James(her new husband) actually became man and wife on the 19th in a ceremony performed on the beach in West Palm. The officiate, the couple and a few beach walkers were in attendance. The ceremony on Sunday evening was for all the family and friends.

Sunday morning Shelley and I attended church with my brother's family while our kids and Creech slept in. The afternoon was spent getting ready for the party, napping and of course dressing for the beach themed ceremony/after party.

The evening was beautiful as bride, groom and I stood on a floating gazebo with the sun setting behind us. Family and friends sat on shore as neighbors and folks in the pool became quiet as the ceremony began. It was sweet, real and I was honored to be asked by James to perform this service for them.

The party was fun. The food and decorations transported all of us to the N.C coast, where our family has spent many a wonderful day together during countless vacations. The food, music and dancing continued until many, including myself, were exhausted.

Monday was spent with my brother as we transported my parents to the airport and hung out by the pool. It was a great time to spend with family and I am looking forward to many new adventures as James is now part of the mix.

One profound thing did happen. My great nephew Sean is eight years old. His biological father has never been in his life, so there has always been a hole in his heart for a father. During the first few hours of our visit Sean started a conversation with me. With a HUGE grin on his face he boldy proclaimed, " I am going to get a Daddy!" and "My name will be Sean Joseph Chalmers Millwood." Sean had been chosen by James to be his son. Sean had always desired a father and now James had chosen to become his father. This conversation and my thoughts afterward have reminded me of the power of God's love for me. I was not part of His family, I was a rebel, without hope. In all that The Father CHOSE me. He chose me to be His son, to take on His name and be part of His family. By the power of the Holy spirit living in me I even take on the spiritual DNA of God himself. Sean was chosen to be a child, I was chosen to be God's child. Great stuff! Great trip! Great family! Great God!

I didn't mean to end with so much preachy, sappy stuff, but that is where I am at the moment. With that in mind, check out yesterdays post by my good friend Larry.

DO NOT spend tens of thousands of $$$$ on a wedding...it's foolish.

I perform weddings on a regular basis. It is part of being a pastor I enjoy most. I enjoy helping a nervous couple through what is a simple process of becoming legally, "man and wife", helping them be at ease from the rehearsal through the formal part of the service. I enjoy most the weddings of folks I know.

Yesterday, I officiated the wedding of Hannah Gwaltney to Eric Piper. Eric is a computer geek from Grants Pass Oregon while Hannah calls Durham home. Hannah is the oldest daughter of dear family friends Will and Carrie Gwaltney. Will and Carrie have a great family and we are truly blessed to have them in our family life.

It always brings me great joy when a couple decides not to break the bank of family and friends to hold a wedding celebration. You do NOT have to spend tens of thousands of dollars to produce a beautiful wedding. After twenty years of officiating, let me tell you this one wedding truth; the larger and more expensive a wedding, the more stress that will be piled on bride, brides' mother, groom and family. My many wedding experiences have borne this out. With a large expensive wedding: there are a few folks that experience great joy on the wedding day, the florist, the photographer, the cake baker, the caterer, the dress makers, the formal wear rental agent, the party rental salesman, the limo company and the banker that gave daddy an equity loan. They leave the wedding with pockets full of $$$$$, whats not to be happy about;-)

Eric and Hannah were far too wise and much too frugal to go with Brides Magazine and the multi-billion dollar industry standard. They listened to the advice of Will and Carrie and carefully looked at the assets they had. Will and Carrie, Eric and Hannah looked for a facility that could handle about fifty to seventy-five guests that could also double as the banquet area. They found a local eatery in down town Raleigh that turned out to be a great choice.

Eric and Hannah had their wedding celebration at The Red Room. The Red Room is a tapas lounge on S. Gregson St along a trendy section of the capital city. Hanna had shown me pictures a few weeks ago, but when I got there Saturday morning, I saw they had made a great decision. The RR staff had set up what could be called a small "sanctuary" on one side of the eatery, while tables and preparations were going on on the other side. A center aisle with seating on both sides gave the effect of a small chapel in Europe with the dark, rich colors of the interior. A glass wall was on one side looking out on the activity of Raleigh, but as the wedding was at 11am, the streets were virtually empty until after the ceremony and photos had taken place.

We had a quick rehearsal and the ladies went off to change clothes. Eric and his groomsmen looked sharp in matching suits and ties, which by the way, they will be able to use at a later date for job interviews. Hannah's father and brothers were also dressed in business suits and were the vision of proper wedding attire. As we waited for guests to arrive and the ladies to change clothes, folks were able to visit. The RR staff was busy, cooking food and making preparation for a party. They had ample wait staff, bar staff and at least two managers directing the operation.

At 11am the guests had arrived and all was ready. The music for the processional began, being played over the lounges sound system and directed by the brides' brother. All the ladies were wearing spring colors and all the dresses, save the brides, will easily be used again in the future. The beauty of the simple bouquets was only eclipsed by the beauty of the brides' mother Carrie;) Hannah looked great in her white gown and all went off well. The guests were asked to step outside while photos were made and the eatery went from chapel to banquet hall.

The photos were handled by a family friend who is VERY good with a camera and will be a tiny fraction of the cost of a big-name-professional. Before 12 noon the photos were made and the party began. The Red Room did an awesome job with food and wait staff. The food was served on the bar in front of the open kitchen and the smells of Spain were in the air as all feasted on great food. Check out the menus on line, they served us everything on the tapas menu, plus all three of the paellas. In my humble opinion, The Red Room would be a great choice for anyone who wants folks to remember the party after a wedding instead of the color of the bridesmaids' dresses.

Will and Carrie, Eric and Hannah spent the money where it really matters, in throwing a great party AFTER what is in reality a 10 minute ceremony. Six months after a BIG EXPENSIVE wedding, 95% of the folks in attendance will NOT remember the color of the dresses, the flowers, the music, etc... They will remember great food, great music, great wine(if you like) and a great party. Spend your money on the party, all the rest really does not matter. The other 5% percent that will remember, they have been brain washed by a multi-billion dollar wedding industry that desires to separate you from your money. Don't fall into the trap and damn the social section of your local news paper.

May God bless Eric and Hannah Piper as they form a new family to bless this planet with more of God's life!

Monday update: Carrie weighs in with her view as the brides' mom.

His children shall call him blessed...

I met Jane and Brad Tippet over ten years ago. They are wallpaper contractors and good at their trade. About nine years ago they lost their fourteen year old daughter Jessica to leukemia. Brad carved much of the lettering on a headstone that sits on the grave. They are Jesus-people. They are not traditional-church-going Christians, but show they know Jesus by the lives they lead.

Jane called me earlier in the week. Her 80 year old father died and the family needed a preacher for the memorial service. I had met Mr. Ferrell during the time of Jessica's death, but that had been some years ago. He was a man of faith, so I could always point to his Jesus and a reunion that will take place in the future, I just hoped that would be enough.

Early Wednesday morning I visited the house where Mr Ferrell had lived. Three of his children and a DIL and a SIL were there. As they began to tell me about their father, the picture became more and more clear. Mr Ferrell was a man who worked hard to make sure his family had what they needed. He had a huge sense of humor that caused the family to have fond memories of childhood. He loved his children, grand children and great grand children.Mr Ferrell was a devoted husband to his wife of 57 years until her death four years ago. His son Mark said his father did not teach him how to live or be a man by words, but he did it by his life.

I was surprised by the service. The kids were going to eulogize their father. I hoped they would not be overwhelmed by grief as they spoke.

Boy, was I about to go to school. Glenda, the second oldest daughter, told many of the funny stories of Mr. Ferrell. She told of a man who loved and laughed and taught the family to do the same. Jane, the youngest, read a letter she wrote to her father on Father's Day almost twenty years ago. Words twenty years old shouted of the faith, love, care and concern this man had for his children and family. Mark, the youngest son, sang a song in tribute to his father and said, "He was the greatest man I have ever known."

As you can imagine, after the children gave testimony to the greatness of their father, there was not much I could say. Their words were a honorary memorial to the life of this "common" man, a simple wallpaper hanger, a simple husband, a simple father, a simple grand father, a simple great grand father, a simple WWII vet, a simple Jesus man; who's impact will be seen for several generations to come.

Carl Glenn Ferrell
May 20, 1927
May 4, 2008

Fried fish, cole slaw, vidalia onion and lemon meringue pie

We feasted on the fish last night. Hot and battered just right the fresh fish was a food lovers dream. The cole slaw was perfect and the addition of thinly sliced Vidalia onions was an added bonus to a true southern meal. With family all around telling stories and reliving memories it was a magical time that will long live in my memories. The evening ended with lemon meringue pie and hot coffee on the back porch, no gourmet has ever dined better.

The Fish Smellers

I have a first cousin named Donna. She has a husband named Joe. Donna and Joe have a daughter named Katrina. Katrina has a husband named Bryant. Katrina and Bryant have a little son named Conner. This small family lives side by side in a rural/urban part of Orange County, N.C.

They give great honor to Donna's father Norman who was married to my mothers' older sister Louise. Aunt Louise could take a month of postings alone; let me say this, she was the mother to six kids, a huge number of grand children and a hand full of great grand children, she was a huge life force in her family and her love could bring great joy, she was opinionated and spoke her mind at the drop of a hat. Her cooking continues to be legendary and a social gathering at Aunt Louise and Uncle Normans' house was sure to be a party.

There is a bit of family background.

Joe and Bryant are of course FIL and SIL respectively. They also are serious fishermen. They have a pontoon boat that is built for fishing. They invited my father Louis and me to go fishing with them on Saturday.

I have heard about their fishing trips. These two men claim to be able to smell fish when they are biting. (I am not talking about those guys who cruise around on lakes at 60mph chasing the Large Mouth Bass. Joe and Bryant are after meat fish, something to bring home, clean and then have a fish fry with friends and relatives.)
I never doubted this, I just had never heard of such a thing.

Yesterday morning my father and I met Joe, Bryant and Uncle Norman and headed for a lake in Alamance County. After a 35 minute drive we arrived at a beautiful, tree lined N.C. lake. The morning was bright and cool with a steady breeze. We boarded the boat and were off. Joe and Bryant were talking about coves to get away from the wind. After a fifteen minute cruise across the lake the fishing began. For over one hour we pulled in one good size meat fish after another. Using ultra light tackle a 12 oz. fish puts up a great fight. The wind blew a bit harder and we moved to several other spots and caught a few fish.

By noon Uncle Norman and my father were tired. We returned them to the dock, had a bit of lunch and moved on to another spot. As we entered the cove Bryant simply stated, "I can smell them, they are here." Now, as I took a deep whiff of the air I did indeed smell a fishy aroma in the air.

Needless to say, Bryant was right. The next two hours we caught scores of fish, keeping only the large ones for eating. I now believe that Bryant and Joe could easily have a fishing program on ESPN Outdoors...of course the name would be "The Fish Smellers".

By three o'clock we were back at the home of Joe and Donna, Katrina and Bryant and little Conner. Conner met his father as soon as we arrived and wanted to see the fish.
The live well was opened and Conner saw the abundant harvest from the fresh,clean waters of the lake. A count was taken, the total harvest was 184 fresh water fish caught on a beautiful N.C. spring day.

If you have a Joe and Bryant in your life you are a wealthy person. If you do not have a Donna and Joe, Katrina, Bryant and little Conner, Uncle Norman in your life, you are a pauper indeed.

Thank YOU guys for a great memory and good fishing!!

The Healing Cut...

Plastic surgery has become a huge industry in the U.S.A., Europe and parts of Asia. The human "need" for physical perfection has caused the good business sense of doctors to gravitate where the money is flowing. As a small business man, I do not fault them, I just find it amazing that so many folks are looking in the mirror and finding a reason to spend tens of thousands of dollars.

I then read stories like this one, and find my heart encouraged my the science and the doctors who do such amazing work. Be warned, the photos may shock.

Old folks, old memories

The past few weeks I have been thinking about stories. Not just any stories, but stories that relate God's grace and mercy. I was purposefully attempting to remember stories that illustrated "the gospel". Stories that would illustrate the good news of Jesus even if Jesus and the "plan of salvation" were never mentioned in the telling.

I remembered one that fulfilled all the requirements I had set in my head for these stories.

• The story had to be a first hand account. That would limit me to people I knew or could communicate with personally.
• If the story could be put on film and was to have no audio tract, the visual pictures would still scream of Jesus and grace.
• The story had to involve "ordinary", "every day", "every-man" people. Not paid or trained church "professionals".

I communicated with a person directly involved in this story of grace. She is still alive and doing very well at 86. As a matter of fact, she is still writing stories of God's grace and mercy by the life she lives. Her energy and passion for serving people are amazing, but you cannot meet her yet. Monday she told me the story. For over one hour she told me stories, showed me pictures, read me scripture, newspaper articles, artifacts from a life and story that smells of "the gospel" and God's grace. In the telling she had to mention people I have known my whole life. Some have died, others have moved from the area, others are living life and Jesus daily, a few have moved into a retirement community in Pittsboro, N.C.
The story teller was quite blunt, she asked, "What are you doing on Wednesday?"
I had only one reply..."I have an open day on Wednesday."
I then called my mother Joyce, she knows the story and was involved in many ways.
"Mom, is your calendar open on Wednesday?"
"Yes", was her simple reply.
"Will you go with me and the story teller to the Pittsboro Christian Village to visit Mel Pierce?", I asked.
"Yes, son, you need to see Mel."

It was set. I would drive my 76 year old mother, the 86 year old story teller and her 93 year old house guest to Pittsboro to visit Mel Pierce and other christian old folks.

Oh yeah, you guys don't know Mel Pierce. Mel was a teacher. She was my high school chorus teacher and director of a touring choir I was part of in those years. She was also a wife to Wilber and mother to Scott, Polly and Penny. The entire family attended the church I did as a young man. They always wore the most beautiful hats to church each week. Mel, Polly and Penny wore the hats, not Wilber and Scott. Mel and Wilber sang duets on a regular basis. They could sing well. They sang "old school" church songs. I can still see them in my mind singing together.
Sometimes, Scott and Penny would join them and the duet would become a quartet. Wilber is in heaven now. Mel and my mother are dear friends of forty years. The story teller is also close to Mel.

Mel was and is a classic southern lady, even though she grew up around Chicago, Il. She enjoys beautiful things, good books and good friends, she also loves Jesus very much. She had a profound impact on my life as a young man. So did the story teller, and my mother, and my father and the list becomes endless.

We left Durham around 9am last Wednesday morning headed for Pittsboro. My mother, the story teller and Louise. The ride was fun, even though my mother and the story teller, we will refer to her as "ST" from here on out, disagreed on how we should drive to Pittsboro. I tried to drive "my" way...that lasted about 30 seconds.

Pittsboro Christian Village is a unique place. They have a few private homes, probably a dozen or so apartments and than a top notch care facility. Many older believers have spent their last years here with a good staff and excellent care. ST and my mother lead the way from room to room; speaking to each resident with love and genuine interest. You could tell they come often as staff and residents were familiar with the both of them. They were also happy to see me, a few were happy to see anyone. Many of the names and faces were people from my childhood. My mother and I made a visit or two to total strangers. I am always amazed how a five minute visit and a few words can seem to bring great joy to seniors.

Mother moved me on to Mel's room. Mel was there, sitting in her chair. She had the same aire of quality and dignity I had always known, just bent a wee-bit more. She greeted me with laughs and many hugs. We had a wonderful conversation for almost an hour. She cannot walk at this time without assistance, so a wheelchair is her vehicle up and down the halls. She loves the village and her life as it is. I heard no discouragement, no pity for herself. She was filled with thankfulness and praise for God and Jesus. It was good to spend time with her and I hope and pray God's grace and mercy will follow her up and down the halls as she wheels around.

I then went to visit Minnie Chandler. She is in her nineties and still painting beautiful pictures regularly. She and her husband Russell attended my 1st birthday party, so I have known Minnie my whole life. She and Russell were "old" when I was little, or it seemed that way to me.

I was invited to eat lunch in the dining hall. The meals are served family style at tables of five or six folks each. I spent lunch with five wonderful ladies, including a retired missionary/nurse who served in the Congo, Africa. the conversation was good and the food was..O.K.

After lunch many went to quarters for after noon naps. Mel P, Minnie C, ST, my mother, the 93 year old house guest and about six or seven other ladies went to the sitting room. They began to share stories of my childhood. They spoke of the communities of faith from my childhood, the pastors and leaders, camps and VBSes and songs. They wanted to sing!
we did, songs of the faith from the past. Songs with great theological depth and songs with shallow christian sentiment, but all, full of faith and trust and assurance that life does not end on this planet. For ALL of them, life today and tomorrow are dependent on a relationship with a person. A person that is real , alive and living with and in them. Dare I say it, that person is Jesus Christ! This group of ladies were an example to me of lives lived with Christ.

I Tim 4:12

"Let no man despise thy youth; but be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity."

For about an hour we sat and chatted and sang. There were laughs, a few tears and great faith. One by one, they walked, rolled and hobbled away. I rolled Mel back to her room and helped her get back into her chair. I was humbled!! I experienced much joy, much faith, much grace, much of Jesus while there.

My three passengers and myself returned to the Triangle via Chapel Hill and ended the day at ST's home. A pot of coffee was brewed and she began to tell the story again. This time I had my laptop, a good microphone and Audacity. I recorded the story for over one hour.I returned to the story tellers home again on Friday and recorded for over two hours. I now have over three hours of raw audio of a BIG story of God's grace, God's mercy and God's people. I also have the memories of a day at a Christian seniors village. I am attempting to edit the recordings, I am also attempting to be changed by my day with a bunch of old people and some old memories.

The Enigma

Yesterday morning it was raining here. It was a cool rain; the rain was not cool, but the breeze in the rain was. It was the kind of spring morning when sleeping late would seem to be wisdom. Instead, I was up and out by 6:15am. We worked in the cool and the rain. It was not raining hard enough to say you were getting soaked, just wet. It was cool enough that a sweat shirt or light rain shell was enough.

At around 9am I had to drive to the farm, the farm owned by the businessmen-enigma. He and had to discuss our construction plans for the first of the week. He was in a chatty mood, it was cool and raining, my crew would continue a few moments without me, I stayed. He had mentioned in the past that he grew up very poor. That is hard to imagine when you are surrounded by evidence of anything but poverty. During a break in the conversation I asked a question, "Did you every go hungry as a little boy?"

"Yes", he said. "At eight or nine I would get up very early in the morning. I would go into the woods and check my line traps. If the trap had an animal with fur, I knew we would have something to eat that day, if not I knew we might you hungry. My mother made jewelry. She made ceramic ear rings. She would make dog wood boom ear rings and fire them in a very small kiln. She could make 6-7 pairs at a time. She would assemble them, place them on a small card and give them to me. I would take them to school and sell them to the ladies at school. If I sold ear rings, I knew we would eat. If I caught food or sold ear rings we ate, if not we didn't.
Kids can be mean to little boys who have to sell ear rings. That may be why i am so mean sometimes."

I was shocked by the story. Here was a man who is brilliant. He is a builder, electrical engineer, architect, investor, cattleman, wood worker, etc, etc...
He has a beautiful home and farm, yet I saw him as a little boy trapping food and selling ear rings to eat. Hunger in America, post Depression is OBSCENE!!

Toll Nightmare

This story by Chris is proof positive that state and federal government is limiting LIBERTY.

God loves cars too...

The last few weeks TCS has experienced a rash of new vehicles. First the Bullock crowd bought a new Chevy. They had been driving the same old van for at least seven or eight years. They needed something to pull the pop-up camper around the Old North State. The story of God's grace and mercy in helping them is great, read it here at Still Crazy.
You will enjoy the story, and hopefully you'll grab on to the fact the God's love is shown best in the small things. It will also let you see, that there are good folks in the car business. God's goodness is all around if you look.

Now, Larry REALLY needed a new auto. His '97 Ford had over 310k miles.(you may not like FMC, but Larry's Escort was a keeper) It was being held together by prayer and a BIG dose of Matt's mechanic skills, with 310k miles, the repairs were becoming BIGGER and BIGGER. To the point, where it was costing more to keep a '97 Escort with 310k miles on the road than was wise. At the same time, Larry is working his way out of a financial past that has had a few bumps along the way. Truly, a miracle was needed for Larry to buy a used car, much less a new one. This past Sunday, he drove up in a brand new 2007 vehicle. When he told me the financial dealing, I was stunned. God has been working in the economy to cause an over abundance of stock. These autos needed to be moved. Larry just happened to be in need and at geography at the same moment. Basically, he is driving a NEW car for about what a good used car would have cost him. No, really, he was able to get a pretty good interest rate. Even with paying a little longer for new versus used, he is coming up very good.

The last story came up I-85 600 miles. My brother in Marietta GA, just took a new job. To celebrate he bought himself a little sports car, a 350Z to be exact. I am sure the roads around the Atlanta Metro area will never be the same with my big brother letting his eight year old boy inside, out for a while. I am glad for him!!

You may be a skeptic? Great!

You may not believe God cares about cars and such in our lives. O.K. by me!

I will not force you on the bus of faith and trust, you want to walk, have at it!!

You want all you have and need to be resting on your wisdom? Go for it!

You want to be self made? Craft away!

I choose simple faith and trust in a BIG and loving God.