September 28 '02
Volume 330
Superman A
Deserving Title
Superman moved a finger
the other day. It was a remarkable achievement given the fact he
had been paralyzed from the neck down for seven years and unable to leap
tall buildings in a single bound. Physicians were astounded by his medical
progress shown, but to those of us who grew up reading Superman comic books
and watching Superman on snowy, black and white TV’s, we expected it,
for we know that only Kryptonite can render Superman powerless.
Of course Superman is a fictional character, but in recent years, thanks
to improved special effects techniques, Christopher Reeve portrayed a believable
Superman in filmdom. Reeve suffered a neck injury after being thrown while
riding a horse. The injury severed his spinal cord at the base of his neck,
leaving him paralyzed.
Most persons who regain any muscular movement following a spinal cord injury
do so within the first two years following the injury. Reeve has made medical
history, now that he is able to move his left index finger. In a recent interview
with ABC’s Barbara Walters (Its hard to type Walters when my mind screams
Barbara Wah-Wah, remembering the late Gilda Radner’s humorous impersonations
of Barbara), it was revealed that Reeve can move all of his fingers on his
left hand when he is in water such as a swimming pool.
For several years, physicians and therapists have put Reeve through intense
physical rehabilitation activities and have used electric impulse treatment
to help various muscle groups remember their functions. Many scientists believe
persons with spinal cord injuries could be greatly helped through embryonic
stem-cell research resulting from the therapeutic cloning of stem cells to
regenerate damaged cells in the spinal cord. Unfortunately, any form of human
cloning is presently banned in the United States.
The former Superman has effectively demonstrated that he’s still a super
man. Within the past two weeks, I’ve been exposed to other super men.
These are no less important than Reeve, but their names are nationally less
recognizable.
Brett Brown is my nephew. Brett graduated from Mississippi’s Math and
Science School in order to pursue a degree in English at Ole Miss. Yeah,
go figure. He was set to graduate in August after having "walked" with his
graduating class in June, until he decided his job prospects with a degree
in English would be improved by getting a double major. Thus, Brett is still
in school, hoping to complete a major in Computer Science in January.
While all of the foregoing is "super" enough, there has been a new development.
Tired of sleeping on a couch at a friend’s house, Brett moved back home
recently. Brett’s mother, Sarah Brown, was a poor housekeeper when she
only had one job, but now that she has a second job to help pay for
Felicia’s college education, her attention to household chores has slipped
even further. Brett took it upon himself to clean the kitchen. How he managed
to do so in a single day is beyond my comprehension, but he did and is rightly
deserving of the title Superman.
Jason Carter is my son. Jason lives in our guesthouse, so any guest in our
home, needing overnight accommodations, stays not in the guesthouse but at
our house. While employed, Jason contributed enough to the household income
to offset his utilities, but never (okay, he did once or twice) voluntarily
contribute to help with yard work. He is presently unemployed, and he still
does not contribute voluntarily to yard work.
I’ve had a John Deere lawn tractor for three mowing seasons, and the
total amount of mowing time Jason has logged would be less than an hour if
one counted both times he helped. Imagine my surprise, then, as Jason walked
into the field I call "the circle" where I was mowing the last of a half-acre
section I had blocked off and volunteered to finish the job. Given his poor
history of volunteerism, Jason is rightly deserving of the title, Superman.
Mark Goslin is the husband of a good friend and former Supervalu employee,
Kim Goslin. Men under the age of fifty often think of themselves as a Superman
but are sometimes less healthy than one might wish to be. Marking his
45th birthday last week, Mark underwent a heart catheterization/
stint implant procedure to relieve a blockage in a major artery. It is somewhat
unusual for individuals so young to have arterial blockages, but perhaps
smoking played a major role. It may be premature to bestow upon Mark the
honorary title, Superman, but based upon expected lifestyle changes, in light
of his "wakeup call" regarding present health issues, Mark is hereby declared,
Superman.
Bob McGehee is my boss. Perhaps, I should say "was," but he is still my boss
at the time of this article. Supervalu is restructuring itself again, moving
ever closer to a centralized management style. This time, our seven regions
are consolidating into four. Atlanta has been our regional headquarters for
the past six years, but the Southeast Region is combining with the Midwest
Region, resulting in the loss of a number of jobs in Atlanta and the transfer
of many management responsibilities to Kenosha, WI. A new boss for my department
has been named, but those of us in Retail Technology in the Southeast
have not begun reporting to our new boss in Kenosha.
I have watched Bob McGehee continue to work as diligently as before he learned
of the changes, all while knowing his present job is about to play out. His
dedication and focus is admirable and for this reason, he too deserves the
title, Superman.
Super men are all around us. We need only to recognize them. Superman lives.
God's Will For
Men & Ministers
Ann Broome was in my high school class for only a couple of years, and was
once the object of my infatuation. Ann’s father was a Baptist preacher
in one of the churches in Pontotoc County. I admired her, not only for her
physical beauty, but also for her Christlike spirit. I’ve never forgotten
her words to me during either our Sophomore or Junior year at Pontotoc High
School
"God has a plan for your life," she confidently stated.
There had been other words, too, spoken to "let me down easy," as she sought
to explain why she could not accept my invitation to an event long since
forgotten. A guy’s hopes are quickly dashed with "You’re a sweet
boy, but…" and most of what comes after the praise-phrase is not easily
remembered. Somehow, though, I have managed to remember her assurance of
God’s interest in my life.
There have been times that I wished for a clearer understanding of God’s
plan for my life. Something in writing would have been great. A vision or
dream would have been even nicer, but none were forthcoming.
I don’t know how God reveals His plan to others, but I sort of stumbled
onto mine, at least that’s how it felt most of the time. Imagine being
lost in a city, looking around for a landmark or street sign to gain a bearing.
Imagine walking backwards ever so often to look at where you’ve been
and hoping to see something you’ve overlooked, then suddenly turning
and there, right in front of you, is a policeman willing to help with directions,
the landmark you needed to find, or the street sign. Well, that’s sort
of how God’s plan is sometimes revealed to me.
I once thought it would have been great to have lived in Biblical times when
God actually spoke to folks. He talked to Adam and Eve, put a mark on Cain,
walked with Enoch, directed Noah to build a huge boat, laid down the law
with Moses, allowed Gideon to discover His will by using dew and a sheepskin,
and God assured Elijah his was not the only knees that had not bowed to Baal
and eventually caught up Elijah to Heaven in a flaming chariot. God appeared
less frequently to individuals by the time Jesus came, but he dramatically
got St. Paul’s attention on the road to Damascus. No doubt, God deals
differently with individuals today.
In my case, I like to think I have found my purpose in life and continue
to find it as new avenues are opened. I often recognize God’s hand in
shaping my life on an "after the fact" basis. For example, during my dating
years, I was never given a sign that I was dating someone God had chosen
just for me. No tiny halo hovered over her head, and if I heard music when
we kissed, it was real, not imagined. Yet, I believe I am married to the
person God wanted me to marry. How else does one explain our ability to live
with each other for thirty-five years? At this point the skeptic should dismiss
stubbornness as a valid reason.
I have held various jobs spanning several years and multiple careers, but
each job was right for me at the time. God never told me I was to be given
a particular job or to embark on a particular career, but I’m convinced
He guided me into certain arenas. While He may not have chosen each one
specifically for me, at least He helped me find my way when I stepped outside
the boundaries of His will.
I expect a cynic might question why God chooses to get involved in the lives
of individuals, in the first place. My best answer is that it’s a matter
of love and a desire on the part of the Creator to have a relationship with
His creation.
Christians are not often asked to explain whether or not they are experiencing
God’s will, but it’s a good exercise in introspection. Somehow,
Christians hold their leaders to a higher standard than they choose for
themselves. We expect those we pay to minister to our spiritual needs to
be living "in" God’s will. We like the assurance of them serving where
they believe God wants them to be, be it pastor, or those who minister to
adults, senior adults, youth, or through music.
We, who are Baptists, are perhaps more directly dependent upon God’s
will in the selection of a pastor or other professional staff member than
are some of our denominational counterparts. We send out committees (we refer
to these in general terms as search committees) to select our church leaders.
Catholics and Methodists have bishops who make leadership changes (supposedly
according to God’s will) within a given diocese, rather than leaving
such matters in the hands of the congregation.
How closely committees and bishops get in finding God’s will for a
particular congregation is sometimes questionable. Obviously, given the turnover
rate among Baptist pastors, God doesn’t need His spokesman to stay too
long in any one place. And, sometimes it would appear the "chosen one" was
found by a committee that stumbled backwards over him. Nonetheless, God often
chooses to bless a congregation in spite of the mistakes of men.
Yes, mistakes are made, and a recent example comes to mind. The First Baptist
Church of West Point, MS, has been without a pastor for the greater part
of two years. Near the year and a half mark, a pastor search committee presented
a man to the church whom they felt represented God’s will as the
church’s next pastor. The prospective pastor was introduced informally
to various individuals and committees and formally as the church was allowed
to hear a "trial sermon" before a congregational vote was taken the following
Sunday.
The church voted overwhelmingly to call the man as their pastor, and the
man accepted. All was good. The committee had done their job, prayers were
answered, and a new pastor would soon fill the pulpit. God’s will was
not called into question until a few weeks later, when on the week prior
to his scheduled arrival the newly called pastor contacted the church to
let them know he had decided to remain where he was.
Situations such as this, give rise to doubts that anyone can know God’s
will. Could it be the committee and later the church itself misread God’s
will? Was the pastor first tempted by a higher salary or better benefits,
but then thought better of it? How does the committee reconcile its thinking
with the last minute turn of events? I don’t know and I’m not certain
anyone knows the answers to these questions. The pastor claimed he did not
have any spiritual peace with regard to his initial decision, and it’s
probably best to accept his claim. Anyway, I’m sure the church at West
Point would not want to call a pastor who felt it was not in God’s will
for him to be there.
In time the church at West Point will find another pastor. They may well
discover him through structured committee meetings bathed in prayer. They
may find him among the many who are recommended to them by others, but they
may just find him by stumbling backwards over him. God’s will is not
always found by orthodox means.
Bodock Beau
Idiots & Talking Dog
It may be politically incorrect to refer to individuals as idiots, but
"intellectually challenged" just doesn't ring as true.
TRUE IDIOTS
IDIOTS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD:
I live in a semi-rural area. We recently had a new neighbor call the local
township administrative office to request the removal of the Deer Crossing
sign on our road. The reason: too many deer were being hit by cars and she
didn't want them to cross there anymore.
IDIOTS IN FOOD SERVICE:
My daughter went to a local Taco Bell and ordered a taco. She asked the person
behind the counter for "minimal lettuce." He said he was sorry, but they
only had iceberg.
IDIOT SIGHTING #1:
I was at the airport, checking in at the gate when an airport employee asked,
"Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge?" To which
I replied, "If it was without my knowledge, how would I know? She smiled
knowingly and nodded, "That's why we ask."
IDIOT SIGHTING #2:
The stoplight on the corner buzzes when it's safe to cross the street. I
was crossing with a coworker of mine when she asked if I knew what the buzzer
was for. I explained that it signals blind people when the light is red.
Appalled, she responded, "What on earth are blind people doing driving?"
IDIOT SIGHTING #3:
At a good-bye luncheon for an old and dear coworker who is leaving the company
due to "downsizing," our manager commented cheerfully, "This is fun. We should
do this more often." Not a word was spoken. We all just looked at each other
with that deer-in-the-headlights stare.
IDIOT SIGHTING #4:
I work with an individual who plugged her power strip back into itself and
for the life of her couldn't understand why her system would not turn on.
IDIOT SIGHTING #5:
When my husband and I arrived at an automobile dealership to pick up our
car, we were told the keys had been locked in it. We went to the service
department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the driver's
side door. As I watched from the passenger side, I instinctively tried the
door handle and discovered that it was unlocked. "Hey," I announced to the
technician, "it's open!" To which he replied, "I know - I already got that
side."
Submitted by George Rutledge
Talking Dog
This guy sees a sign in front of a house: "Talking Dog for Sale." He rings
the bell and the owner tells him the dog is in the back yard. The guy goes
into the back yard and sees a mutt sitting there.
"You talk?" he asks.
"Yep," the mutt replies.
"So, what's your story?"
"Well, I discovered this gift pretty young and I wanted to help the government,
so I told the CIA about my gift, and in no time they had me jetting from
country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because
no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping. I was one of their most valuable
spies eight years running. The jetting around really tired me out, and I
knew I wasn't getting any younger and I wanted to settle down. So I signed
up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security work, mostly wandering
near suspicious characters and listening in. I uncovered some incredible
dealings there and was awarded a batch of medals. Had a wife, a mess of puppies,
and now I'm just retired."
The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the
dog. The owner says "Ten dollars."
The guy says he'll buy him but asks the owner, "This dog is amazing. Why
on earth are you selling him?"
The owner replies, "Because he is such a damn liar."
Submitted by Dena Kimbrell
Home
Copyright © 2000 - 2002 RRN
Online.
