Serendipities

Morning mall-walking continues and becomes more and more serendipitous.

A couple weeks ago in the “Lost Cajun” installment of this blog, I mentioned Boompa, my late father-in-law. Early on, walking Cool Springs Mall I noticed an older gentleman also lapping the place every morning. Walking behind him, his gait and speed, his height, both bowed knees that created the same slight limp, and even his cap reminded me mightily of Boompa. I wish those of you who knew Boompa could observe Robert walk every morning – you wouldn’t believe the similarity either. 

Robert’s photo makes him look taller than my father-in-law, but my new friend is only a little slimmer – they were likely the same size at Robert’s age of 71. Boompa claimed walking on concrete floors in his grocery stores all those years took its toll on his knees causing his slight limp. Today I caught up with Robert and in conversation asked him what kind of work he did while in the workforce. You guessed it – Kroger, 42 years. The take-away here – if you want bad knees and to walk with a slight limp, spend a whole career working in a grocery store.

Robert asked about my line of work, and when I told him First Baptist Church downtown, it turns out he plays saxophone and for a while played in a band that rehearsed weekly in our church basement with Bill York, FBC’s security chief. Small world.

Today Robert and I were walking the lower level of the mall and when it was time for me to go to the office, I said a few parting words to him and hopped on the escalator to the top level where I had parked. Rounding the corner I overtook a new-to-me walker and howdied as I went by. In a half-dozen or so paces he shouted my way –

“Didn’t you used to be at First Baptist Church?”  

Turning around “I did!  I’m Mark Edwards. Tell me who you are.”

“Bill Long. I’m Gina’s father.”

I lock-stepped with him a few minutes of visitation and then headed to the parking lot amazed at what had just happened. The funny part about that is a few weeks ago when I wrote about the poofy-haired walker – Suzanne – Gina commented “My Dad is also an early morning Cool Springs Mall walker.  Sometimes I join him when I’m in town, so if you see a girl yawning, with bed hair trying to keep up with her Dad…that’s me!”

I’m not making this stuff up; I’m enjoying it…but beginning to wonder some about the recent connections I’m discovering and making. 

I’m noticing that since Honey died nearly two years ago, I seem to see different things and see things differently. Perhaps my gaze is wider or vision clearer; I’m looking more intently or intentionally. Good things – people and situations – seem to be showing up unexpectedly and more often; maybe I’m living with a greater sense of expectancy; so far, it’s interesting and down-right delightful.  Soon after Honey died my brother Randy made a comment to the effect that the “next chapter” for me may be the best yet. I also remember my long-time friend Rita commenting a few years following her husband’s death that she didn’t know if she’d ever be happy again, but she genuinely was. I still see and feel a big hole in my heart every day, but life nearing two years later is good. 

These serendipities mall-walking and elsewhere bring to mind an old hymn I love as did Honey. She always wanted me to play it at night after putting her to bed – “it’s happy and calming.” The hymn has appeared in various hymnals since 1779 when it was written. The fact that it has been paired with various tunes could indicate the search is ongoing for the right tune.  Perhaps the tune I penned – JONATHAN (named for my eldest grandson) – included in the Celebrating Grace Hymnal will end the search…or not.

Sometimes a light surprises the child of God who sings;

   it is the Lord who rises with healing in His wings.

When comforts are declining He grants the soul again

   a season of clear shining to cheer it after rain.

In hold contemplation we sweetly then pursue

   the theme of God’s salvation and find it ever new;

   set free from present sorrows, we cheerfully can say,

   “Let the unknown tomorrow bring with it what it may.”

It can bring with it nothing but He will bear us through;

Who gives the lilies clothing will clothe His people, too’

beneath the spreading heavens no creature but is fed;

and He who feeds the ravens will give His children bread.

Though vine nor fig tree neither expected fruit should bear,

though all the field should wither, nor flocks nor herds be there;

yet God the same abiding, His praise shall tune my voice,

for while in Him confiding, I cannot but rejoice.

                Words – William Cowper, 1179

I can say for sure that in the last couple of years I have been “in Him confiding” more and that “I cannot but rejoice.” Thank you, Lord.

- Mark

The Lost Cajun

I seem to happen onto some of the most interesting people on airplanes. Friday night embarking on a flight to Charlotte, NC, for a Saturday morning rehearsal in High Point for a Sunday Celebrating Grace Hymnal dedication, a friendly gentleman a little younger than I took the aisle seat on my row where I was seated next to the window. (I sleep better next to the window on the right side.) Waiting for the rest of the cabin to load, we made a bit of small talk and somehow it came up that he was originally from Louisiana though he now lives in Colorado. The colorful logo on his polo-type shirt read, "The Lost Cajun."

"What's The Lost Cajun?"

"It's a chain of restaurants a buddy and I started six years ago after my wife died. I've been here today checking on our Hendersonville store. My wife and I operated a fishing camp near New Orleans where I was raised until Katrina, Rita, Ike, Gustav, and then the oil spill. We had enough of that so we moved to Colorado, where she later died." 

"My wife also died a year and a half ago. No fun, is it!"

"No, I was paralyzed for months. Are you dating yet?"

"Naw, not even on my radar. You?"

"I'm almost there. But, when you've had the best for 32 years..."

"I know what you mean; Honey and I were married almost 45 years."

For the next hour, we -- mostly he -- talked about our common experience of losing our spouses to cancer, faith, do's and don't's of operating a restaurant, hymnody which we both prefer, etc. 

"Griff" is 61 years old and admits to only an 8th grade education. He has eleven stores in four states and is looking to have 100 within the next decade. 

"When we go to scout out a possible location, we don't force anything. If something doesn't feel right about a deal, we always walk away; perhaps it will work out later. If a prospective franchisee doesn't share our culture of high values, we don't do business. There are no shortcuts to the way we do business, treat customers, or fix food."

From there, he went into specifics of selecting a spot, demographics, traffic patterns, etc., etc. -- all very interesting even to me the musician. 

"How do you know all that stuff, where did you learn it?"

Leaning across the empty seat between us as if to tell me a secret, he said, "I'll tell you what, most of it is plain ol' common sense. People do some of the craziest things that get them into trouble simply because they don't use good common sense. Employees, for example -- they'll make or break you. I hire good, more qualified people who share my values to do most of the upper level work, and I mainly train local employees -- they call me the Culture Consultant. I spend a week training all of the locals to do their job our way, but in a wholesome environment where, 'please, thank you, and you're welcome' are expressed at every level all day long. We've been able to make a difference in young people's lives by insisting on high standards like that. Parents have come to me and thanked me for teaching their kids how to work, be responsible, courteous, and have high standards. I've made a fair amount of money, but I've always given half of it away."

Although I don't know much about him, I'm still impressed with Griff. In many ways, he reminds me of Boompa -- Honey's adoptive father -- who was about Griff's current age when I started showing up around the West house. (Boompa died three months shy of 104.) Boompa's education ended at the 7th grade, but he, too, was a hard worker, had and lived out high standards, without fanfare loved Jesus, made a fair amount of money in the grocery business, quietly gave a lot of it away -- money and groceries -- making people better in his daily life and routine. 

Griff and Boompa seem to be good agents of "peace on earth, good will to men" about which we sing and hopefully think this time of every year. Those guys -- both giants -- remind me most of Joseph in the Christmas story who I plan to talk about here next week. 

In the meantime, here are a couple of stanzas of rather new Advent hymn in the Celebrating Grace Hymnal that I doubt Griff or Boompa ever heard but certainly live(d) by. 

Christians, all, your Lord is coming, calling you to serve in deed.

See the ones who hurt and suffer, hear their cry and act with speed.

Set all selfish ways behind you, purge your heart of sinful greed.

Alleluia! Alleluia! Christ in you will meet their need.

Christians, all, your Lord is coming, hope for peace is now at hand. 

Let there be no hesitation, walk in faith where life demands. 

Bear the word that God has given; share the birth that stirs your soul.

Alleluia! Alleluia! Christ will come and make you whole.

 

Words – Jim Miller, 1993 © 1995 Chalice Press

Although Griff had run out of business cards to give me, I plan to try to track him down in the days ahead. But first, a bowl of real Cajun gumbo up in Hendersonville seems to be calling my name. 

-- Mark