His Plan is Better

 I read the email with joy. 

My friend, Beth, was going to be ordained to the Diaconate.

She had asked that I be one of the chalice bearers at her ordination.

I was honored to be a part of this very special night in my friend's life.

If being a part of the service was not enough, the seat I had during the service was the icing on the cake.  

I watched as Beth's parents listened with pride to each part of the service.  I listened as they both took part in the liturgy by reading first the Old Testament and then the New Testament portions of Scripture. I could see the love that Beth's daughters and her husband had for her.  It was wonderful.

 I wanted to be a deacon once.  Actually, before that, I wanted to be a priest. And before that, I wanted to be a minister's wife.

 And I am none of the above.

Well, I was a  minister's wife but that's been forty years ago. Truth be told I've spent way too much time bemoaning the fact that what I thought to be God's call on my life only lasted 15 years.  It took the death of the minister to make me come to grips with the fact that my life has turned out so much better and I have had so many wonderful opportunities to serve the Lord.  While I was waiting for one more apology for what he had done to "ruin" my life, I should have been writing him a thank you note for what he did to make it better.

However, that's my story and this is about Beth (who has her own story - but it's not my place to share it).

In the 15 years that I have known Beth, I have seen the way she's listened . . .  and heard God's voice (through her own personal study of Scripture and from people and circumstances in her life).  Last Thursday night was just the beginning.

And the one truth that Beth and I share is that we agree

(Artwork by Allie Blain)

Romans 8:28 - which is to say - His Plan is BEST!

                                          May your life have enough sunshine 

                                          to make you appreciate the shadows

Not human "doings"

 This is how my life looks these days.

Truth be told, it has not been an easy change for me.

I've spent three or four days recently trying to figure out why I felt uneasy.   

Yes, there's one big issue that looms over me.  My mother is almost 99 years old.  Life is not the same.  In many ways, I grieve her loss even though she is still alive.  The  Pandemic took its toll on her...and on me, since I've been her main visitor...and she's always been so much a people person.  

I've had to learn that I cannot be consumed with her.  That's not been easy.

Other than that.  My children are well.  One grandchild is having an experience that makes her grandmother a bit jealous.  She's student teaching in Vienna. That's the one place I'd love to visit.

I have a part-time job that I enjoy.  I have dear friends who I spend time with regularly.  My health is good.  What in the world is wrong with me? 

Back to my mother -- she's always been the one who helped me figure out what was wrong with me.  

One of her favorite Paula stories has always been of the day that I slammed the vacuum cleaner down in anger and sobs and she asked me "What in the world is wrong with you? "  My response  "You're the mother you are supposed to know".

I was sharing my current angst with my friend Deborah  

I said, "no one needs anything".  Her response: "Right.  For years there's been someone -- someplace that you were supposed to be helping".  

Then she said something that was profound.  She thought I had heard it before but it was new to me

"We are not called Human DOINGS.  We are called Human --- yes - BEINGS".

Hum

That made me respond with a Bible verse. . . 

"Be still and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10)

. . . And remember a time more than 50 years ago when I had been having a similar experience -- I was a freshman in college -- and everything things seemed out of whack.  My boyfriend and I went to church -- and in the stillness of that service, I realized what I needed - 

I needed to BE STILL

And now I need to learn the very first word of that verse

I need to learn to BE!

May your life have enough sunshine

to make you  appreciate the shadows

PS I have found a couple of small opportunities to reach out to others but I'm endeavoring  - really endeavoring -- to just BE.

 

Happy Birthday, Bert

 The Mandarin Volunteer Fire Department

     "If I hadn't gone to work for Bellsouth, I would have been a fireman", said former Mandarin resident, Bert Wasmund.

     "My family lived on the corner of Loretta and Mina.  My dad, Don, who worked at the shipyards until his death at age 60, was a volunteer fireman.  We could get to what was then the fire station at the north entrance to Mandarin Road on State Road 13 in about 4 minutes", he continued.

     Bert said he enjoyed the camaraderie of the other fire fighters as well as the rush of adrenaline as they hurried to a call.  This was before consolidation.  Many areas of Jacksonville and Duval County had volunteer fire departments.  "It was just what people did", said Bert.

     He remembered his most frightening fire.  That was when the Dutton Salvage Company on Philips Highway burned.  There were a lot of paint cans and old military equipment at the huge "junk yard".  

     "Volunteer Firemen from throughout Duval County came to fight the blaze", he said.  "Fortunately, the only loss was what the Salvage company lost financially and there's always more junk", he continued.

     Bert remembered a 1950 Dodge Power Wagon that was their fire truck.  "It was four-wheel drive, carried 450 gallons of water and was equipped with a front mount pump.  There was a ladder rack on the top with a couple of extension ladders and the tools of the trade included."

     "The original fire house had a second story but was not built out", he said.  "We would go up there and practice carrying someone down a ladder."

     When it was time to build the current fire station, Bert was on hand to help.  It was a volunteer effort.

      He helped dig the foundations, set the concrete blocks and carried the five gallons of concrete to the men who were working on the scaffold.  When it was complete, it had three bays, a small office, bunk beds, a few chairs and a television set.  And there was a new 1958 LaFrance fire truck.  Later a tanker from Camp Blanding was added.

     Bert counts his experience as a volunteer fireman among his greatest memories.  

	The button from Bert's Fireman's hat

 He moved from Mandarin in the early sixties.  I met him in about 2004 through Kiwanis.  I learned that his mother, Miss Winnie, had been the nursery worker at the Episcopal Church of Our Saviour for many years.  Sometime later I learned through a mutual Bellsouth connection that he had been one of our Mandarin's  Volunteer Firemen.  

      As we talked, I watched as Bert's eyes light up as he talked about his childhood friends, Cary and Bill Morrow, James Folds and Joe Walsh.  His recollections made me want to know more about some of our Mandarin "oldies".