PRESENCE OF GREATNESS
It was one of those days that you know in advance is going to be special and despite your best efforts you won't be able to ruin it. I was to play golf with both my sons and to meet my older daughter and her boyfriend for basketball directly after having lunch with my younger daughter. The day started with breakfast with my younger son and we laughed more than usual as we played a quick game of table football - an inappropriate activity at a public restaurant that I intend to quit doing immediately after my death.
As I absorbed the first of the special day, I noticed an elderly couple to my left sharing a senior plate and fruit crepe dessert. They reminded me of another couple in appearance and I thought of that couple I had seen eating with a friend the week before. Then, the two had been stoic, scowling, bitter and exchanged only a handful of sharp jabs at each other's methods of operation. In the little they spoke there was no eye contact and the table resembled a New York side walk cafe' where two strangers shared only a tabletop. I had been sad for them and realized their misery was in addition to the array of challenges old age presents in general. The candle was blown out and the burnt wick and puddle of wax was all that was left between them. You could feel the contempt they held for each other.
My mind summoned me back from the unpleasant as I saw the old man reach past the crepe and cup the woman's hand and smile. Their body language was that of admiration and kindness and attentiveness. Their bodies were heavily aged and any movement was challenging; their clothes were three decades outdated and the frugalness of their purchases spoke of a time which had financially consumed the best of well-laid plans. In all this, their circumstances were dwarfed by their spirit and resolve to bring joy to each other.
As I arranged with our mutual server to pick up their check, I conditioned it to include anonymity. When discovered by them, you honestly would confuse their reaction with a lottery win and the joy of watching them light up the section with appreciation and wonder was priceless. The acquisition of their check was not an act of compassion as much as it was a tribute to their lives and ability to fulfill them.
I tackled the remainder on my day a little wiser and more grateful than before and stood in awe at the consistency, longevity and persistence of the two. Kindness never goes out of style and the chances to brush up against those who have discovered the secret is to be in the "Presence of Greatness."
YFTC & ITSOO,
Mr. Redwine
"The best inspiration for a successful journey is from someone who has taken one." Jim Redwine
"God, it was my money but I'm the one who was treated!" Jim Redwine
STORIES
by Mr. Redwine
MAKE A PLACE
It's difficult to communicate or help someone visualize the status of a single grandson amongst an all female group of granddaughters. Whether it was all in my mind or not, I'm not sure -- but I believed it is and that is all that really counts. Both my mother's parents treated me like royalty, defended my questionable behavior and actions and supported me in every way humanly possible. I was a rarity in that generation of offspring on that side of the family and it created a niche in which I felt quite comfortable, wanted and appreciated.
My grandfather gave me his Oldsmobile, always saved his change in a big bank bag for me for my visits, and always made a special effort to embrace my craziest projects and endeavors. A water moccasin had chased me near a pond and quickly became the recipient of a single shot 20 gauge and was skinned in the den with my uncle's knife he had gifted me years before. I have little doubt that my Papa would have tolerated the antics from anyone else. The skin still hangs on the wall in my boys' room as a reminder of his tolerance.
Having five gorgeous cousins wasn't very hard to endure, as well, and I often was the recipient of more than my share of attention and affection. It's little wonder I cried every time I waved everyone off and then ourselves. We always left family gatherings last and I can still close my eyes and see my grandparents waving from the back steps. "Little Jimmy" never sounded as good as a trip to see them and the last curve in the road to their house seemed an eternity in the anticipation of a well-appreciated child.
I walk their small town in my dreams and protect and savor their patches on my quilt - the one that warms me long after their hugs can no longer. It's the people that fight for, embrace and provide for us along the way that get us where we are and are going. The niches created for us and that we create for others offer opportunity of self-worth, confidence and security. The start we are afforded and the warmth of love surrounding us determine greatly our ability to return the favor throughout our lives.
There is truly a place for everyone, no less special for the effort and just waiting on our ability to extend it. Dreams and memories are a chance to revisit but our true appreciation resides in our willingness to continue to "Make a Place"
Love, YFTC & ITSOO
Mr. Redwine
"What I never missed is what I miss most." Jim Redwine
"God, help me gift others with the 'presence' I have always enjoyed." Jim Redwine
Yours For The Children & In The Service Of Others
SAME DIRECTION
The look on my son’s face was priceless. He had been working with me to raise money for his portion of his fraternity dues and a realtor’s course to allow him to make commissions as an apartment finder to pay for his summer room and board in Austin. Being the “only dad he knows who doesn’t pay all the fraternity costs or summer living expenses” makes me unpopular sometimes, but we both work through it.
On this particular day we had picked up and fed a homeless young man who had replaced my last project. John had spent a year and a half working with me and gone from no car, no home, no money and no purpose to a young man with all of the above. Now it was Devin’s turn and his appearance, demeanor and morality are questionable at best as I begin a new chapter of picking someone up.
The desperation of having nothing leaves people bitter, discouraged and angry and teaching them and providing them the opportunity to fish beats feeding them one. Dependency is broken by the intimacy of real opportunity. Standards and expectations are stair-stepped in the same sense a toddler is asked to take one step before he runs. Paying for provided work, a couple of square meals, steady income, consistency and rides to and from work begin the tedious project of rebuilding a life. A smaller focus than trying to feed, clothe and offer common necessities to hundreds, it is a real opportunity to turn a life around and empower a person to stand on his own two feet and be a contributing part of society.
No work or effort is ever wasted, but it is particularly special and satisfying to save the world one at a time. A personal vision when I close my eyes is that “each person in a good place sponsors a person in a bad place and changes all the places of the world.” The larger and more intense the aid, the more focus it requires, as well as the resources and energy.
When John had given me a one day notice after securing a job with full benefits, I remember being ecstatic instead of aggravated – having never lost my vision for him. He could run and it was time for both of us to begin again. As my son and I rode with Devin to work the phone rang out of the blue and John began to thank me again for being his friend and “getting him up.” He went on to exclaim that it takes so much to keep up that he would love to work weekends with us to make a little extra. Not really needing him, I told him of course and he worked the next day with us and shortened all our days. It was a chance to stay in touch and remind him he was still important to me. The Saturday conversation between us all was an example to Devin of what consistency and diligence can yield for someone who wants to change their circumstances.
After dropping the two young men off my son had some questions, including how could someone not be able to afford certain things. We talked about having nothing to build on and on exhausted or nonexistent support systems and I could tell the sophomore in college who sometimes knows everything was listening. There’s one key piece of information I tried to convey to my son amongst all the day’s opportunity and that was that when we stand in judgment we will never get to first base in helping anyone change his or her life.
For me, I intend to hit some homeruns before I stand the bat up in the corner. So I will continue to upgrade wardrobes, insist that pre-workday baths be taken, lecture on the use of earnings, insist on a professional demeanor, make sure enough food is available, provide transportation and basic living necessities and remind people they are important. I had a picture taken of us all and I could not help but think we are all at different places in our lives but, thankfully, all headed in the “Same Direction."
Love, YFTC & ITSOO
Mr. Redwine
“Need is the only circumstance a Samaritan requires.” Jim Redwine
“God, help me share my good place while I’m there.” Jim Redwine
FOR OUR FATHER
There is no doubt that giving, helping and providing for others is something to rejoice about. Energy and sense of self-purpose is good for the soul and is contagious to those we share it with. Truth be told, there is a need to heighten awareness and educate the unaware just what and where so many things are needed. Further, there are different comfort zones that work well if joined for a common cause. It takes many to assemble and gather and few to deliver, but one without the other becomes useless.
While it is human nature to step back and look at our accomplishments, boast of our service and receive the praises of our fellowman in countless ways – it is not what is expected of us. The things we do as privately and inconspicuously as possible, unseen or undetected by human eyes, are those held in highest esteem. We tell our children that just because no one is looking or will ever know, it is still important to do the right thing because they will know.
It’s not so different in our intentions to serve. The service itself is the reward and further recognition should never be our pursuit or reason for our actions. Our stockpiles of human admiration, money, worldly possessions or misdirected prayers all become dust while our purest intentions unnoticed reach their highest potential.
Good friends are never those who tell you consistently what you want to hear, but those who give you honest feedback and share their beliefs with an explanation of their reasoning. Witnessing takes a soulful effort as does our service to others, especially put before ourselves. But what will always distinguish the depth of both is to do it solely “For our Father.”
Love, ITSOO & YFTC,
Mr. Redwine
(Turn to and learn Matthew 6:1-4)
“Who and how we serve is more important then what, when, where or how often we serve.” Jim Redwine
“God, thank you for the timeless reminders that direct our easily lost ways.” Jim Redwine
“We each determine God’s victory in our lives daily.” Jim Redwine
“All good comes from God and we are nothing more than a vessel without him.” Jim Redwine
LIVE THE GIFTS I CAN
It happens to the best of us – we somehow, despite all our blessings, feel sorry for ourselves and how difficult our lives are. The effort we have to exert is just too demanding and consumptive of our physical, emotional and spiritual resources.
I had arisen on Sunday morning and had primarily been motivated to attend church by the guilt of having missed the Sunday before. It was a poor excuse and mindset, but at least got me there. My busy schedule had once again clouded my mind that the day of rest shouldn’t have included having to carve out several hours to worship so early in the morning on my day off. Dragging myself through the regimen to arrive, I did and I plopped down with my family in our usual pew. My body dented the pew’s pillow as my mind wondered through the rest of my day. My self-pity for my plight continued right up to the minute my absorption was ruined by his arrival.
As both doors to the section opened, a quiet, older man pushed the young man in his wheelchair next to me in the pew. His uncontrollable smile leapt across his face and irregular and occasionally loud noise blurted from his mouth as he tried to control his erratic bodily motions. His physical mountains alluded to epilepsy or cerebral palsy and a sobering realization of my immediate blessings overwhelmed me. I tried not to stare to prevent my admiration being confused for anything else. He was the young man that months earlier I had witnessed my mother help partake in communion and it had made me cry.
How had I forgotten how easy I have had it? I glanced at him in prayer for us both and upon time for the offering I was forever touched by the series of events to come. His caregiver asked him how much he wished to give as the young man waved a handled blue thermos in the air, a container he could not open that contained his money. Loudly he proclaimed three as best he could speak. The caregiver took the thermos from his hand and removed the declared gift amount. He helped him make the offering and the larger than usual smile danced once again across his ever moving face. I had found myself in the nucleus of the largest humble pie of my life and I did my best not to cry.
The sermon came and passed as a poor second lesson of the day and compassion pushed aside selfishness. The weakest and most challenged of the flock uplifted and carried me and assumed all my burdens. My wasted sympathies for myself returned to their deserved place of nowhere and I was reminded of true strength.
Upon the closing of prayer and with a crowd avoiding early departure by the young man, I noticed on the floor that the thermos remained. I picked it up and looked everywhere for them – they seemed to have disappeared. At home I opened the container and found the $16.00, surely a fortune to him with his needs. I doubled the amount to return to him the next Sunday. Each Sunday I return and fail to find him again. I worry. Is he all right? I will continue to hope and pray and carry the thermos for the young man who reminded me to “Live the Gifts I Can.”
Love, YFTC & ITSOO
Mr. Redwine
“Our biggest handicap can be realizing how small it is.” Jim Redwine
“God, for what I don’t understand, I am still grateful.” Jim Redwine
WE WERE THERE
Family first is no cliché in my household and everything I do is wrapped around the schedules of my children and wife. A high availability to all children is derived from 23 years of putting mine as a priority. It takes as many as five rejections to set me absolutely free to pursue my other interests, obligations and passions.
My schedule was cleared on a Sunday and my wife and son had accepted an offer to play golf at a nearby course. My wife read and enjoyed the beautiful day while my son and I tackled the goals we set for our game. Choosing always to walk for the exercise and savings, they took the cart and set the pace. Paired with another riding twosome, eighteen holes went quickly and we found ourselves ready to play another round. My wife surrendered her cart and checked in at home while we continued to play.
The next nine we found ourselves in the zone and enjoyed the lowest scores of the day, mixed with some great one-on-one time. After nine more we decided once again to tee off and play a tie breaker, putt a little in the near dark, and then head back up to our awaiting ride to dinner.
On the way back to the clubhouse my son put his arm around me, partly as his way to show his appreciation for the day and also to lean on me to help him up the hill. At the base of the hill, he had put so much weight on me that I jokingly said, “I should just carry you,” and to my surprise he hopped on with his bag, then holding mine, while I began my ascent up the steep grade. Three quarters of the way up I requested a rest and lightened my 400 pound load.
Then in more of a surprise he said, “Get on and I’ll take us the rest of the way.” After a short exchange I agreed and jumped on his back with his clubs, still needing mine handed to me to carry once mounted. He took two steps toward the clubs, bent over and picked them up, tried to stand upright, and sent us both crashing down the hill onto the concrete cart path. Totally unsure how hurt either of us was, we both laughed so hard we cried. For several minutes we could not regain our composure and lay motionless while we belted out insane volumes of laugher.
He asked if I was hurt at the bottom of the pile and I responded, “I don’t know,” as we began to attempt our first movements. After we picked up spilt balls, tees, hats and clubs, he began to inspect his clubs I had fallen on. Remarkably, no bones, clubs or heads were broken. He told his mother it was the funniest thing he had ever had happen in his life and he wouldn’t trade anything for it and would do it all again. I heard it retold several times and no doubt will again, including his wish he had a picture of it. It was another amazing bond I enjoyed with one of my children that he will, no doubt, share with his own one day.
Great things bloom from the time we plant and the moments that last forever do not go undetected because “We Were There.”
Love, YFTC & ITSOO,
Mr. Redwine
“You know it’s family when even the bruises are great memories.” Jim Redwine
“God, I surprised my son today when he expected anger and received a partner in laughter.” Jim Redwine
SEE AND BE SEEN
A men’s club had asked me to speak on my favorite part of the joy of working with children. At the same time they had asked me to couple it with my particular take on the subject of giving, whether it be my time, resources or money, or the combination of the three. The two subjects seemed to be paired quite nicely, but I reluctantly agreed to accommodate the group that had honored me with the father of the year some seven years earlier.
My writings and lectures can act a little personal and chords struck often play sour notes, but I proceeded to wound the unwilling and remind and initiate the receptive. There is no doubt in my mind that people change the channel when the subject matter is offensive, nor is there a shred of doubt in my mind that my Nielson rating hovered around 50 percent in the room. Men can be difficult to share the tender and loving aspect of relationships, their faith and their deepest convictions. The further aggravation of long unspoken feelings is a reminder of the dusty and cobwebbed shelf on which the emotion sits in wait. Oh, yeah, and some just don’t get it.
It’s tough to know that statistically you lose half going into it. It resembles rushes on an enemy stronghold with a flyswatter and the testosterone filled groans of disagreement bounce around the room like misguided bullets, wounding those who try to listen. It’s a bit of a waste to honor and validate someone whose opinion means nothing to you. The ritual of complete failures who know everything is a tradition among human beings that must even baffle our maker. There is always a wall erected in the most controversial settings and the seeds planted and ideas forged slowly weaken the mortar of the stone and the wall falls with patience and determination.
A gentleman who had listened in disagreement with my program had respectfully joined those around me congratulating me on the same. He patiently waited his turn and stayed to the end to foster a more private discussion. We talked, smiled, supported our views and examined what made us tick. My last farewell was my summation -- that my watch was self-winding and his battery was out. He laughed, we shook hands and I felt he had not been swayed but at least amused by me, a small victory, but a personal policy to take what I can get. The next day there it was amongst my 36 missed calls – a message of thanks from the least likely of well wishers: “Got up this morning, changed the battery and off to make a difference.”
I dropped the goose just like Cratchit’s wife and began to recount the moments thought wasted with a newfound friend. My entire night’s ambition was exceeded by one simple message of appreciation and acknowledgment. Each of us is really a window. Some are a bit dingy and hard to see in and others have been tin-foiled so they can sleep and keep light and others from peering in. All windows hold countless possibilities, wondrous visions and unlimited, remarkable contributions. Our ability to keep them clean and receptive for the two way view is how life will be measured. Invest in some Windex, get a great chamois, and don’t be afraid to “See and be Seen.”
Love, YFTC & ITSOO,
Mr. Redwine
"It’s the difficult road that really tests our vehicle.” Jim Redwine
"God, thanks for the connection two so different share though your windows.” Jim Redwine
LONGEST SHADOW
If I’ve heard it once I’ve heard it a thousand times and always secondhand: “I don’t think Mr. Redwine likes me very much.” No, it’s not kids; they know better. It’s the adults who drop off and pick up kids at functions. I don’t stop and talk. I’m all business and regimented and a disciplinarian who seems a bit gruff and direct. There is a time and place for parents to chat and catch up, share opinions and philosophies and talk about their week. For me, kids come first forever and parents will have to understand while one kid remains they will be my focus.
It’s not an unwillingness to give the time of day to them but the time of day belongs to their children. It is impossible for me to not love the parents of the children I love, and further, the check out wave they receive is always sent with my greatest respect and love. Everything I love about the kids is the direct result of the great things parents bring to the table. They are “mini you’s.”
The only people invited to all functions are parents, not by accident but because we, especially I, want you. The little time I get with parents means the world to me and you and I will know when the time is right. There is a constant blessing around us which affords us fewer mistakes when we listen.
Last week, for any reason unbeknownst to me, I walked over and stood with a father during a busy period who I usually only talk to during snack time. I stood with him, both of us facing the field and explained what a great day his son had experienced. I told him how I saw his oldest son in him and how he had matured over the past few weeks. I had always held the father and brother accountable to help me educate the young boy in the Thursday Boy procedures and spirit. It was an unusual ten minute expenditure of time and I was surprised at myself and how I was compelled to spend it.
The following week the friend I stood with would never come to the field again and I was grateful for the guidance I had received. Life is fleeting and the chance to say and show you care is priceless and time sensitive. I know in a week that has brought the loss of two fathers to children in Thursday Boys an awareness of appreciation of the time and opportunity I have is apparent.
I will miss the shadow of my friends stretching across the field where their children still play and will always think of our exchanges with a full heart, hope and faith. I will serve their children when allowed and until my shadow too disappears from the ground where children’s voices remind us that our efforts carry on without us but we are never forgotten. There’s a reason for our legacy’s value and height has little to do with who casts the “Longest Shadow.”
Love, YFTC & ITSOO
Mr. Redwine
“The tallest of us are those on our knees.” Jim Redwine
“God, thank you for the pauses in routine to embrace the spectacular.” Jim Redwine
THE REAL STORY
My cell phone was full, letters arrived by the dozens, and everywhere I went the discussion centered around the article that had run Friday. My family, children and close friends were inundated by the same and an instant surplus of papers began to trickle in at a steady pace. No doubt, it was exciting and a week later it still continues.
Truth be told, as I told David from the get-go, all it really takes is a big mouth and a whistle. This kid run group that is truly ours is the result of thousands of alumni and parents who fostered it with love, a wife and four children who took the bruises and stood alone when necessary to stand the test of time and criticism, a mother who tirelessly helps with administrative, story and computer duties, a host of friends who at the drop of a hat make their talents, time, resources and money available to us all, the most dedicated staff we have ever enjoyed, and the largest, most involved active membership in our history.
Accolades are fun, to be appreciated is spectacular, and to be considered a small part of the adult and child leadership an honor, but let me make one thing perfectly clear since I may not have spoken to you since last Friday: It is you that continues to be “The Real Story.”
Love, YFTC, ITSOO, and a very grateful
Mr. Redwine
“Behind every big mouth with a whistle are those who really get it done.” Jim Redwine
“God, today I stood on stage and accepted for those who couldn’t be there.” Jim Redwine
SHARING THE PAIN
I had gone with my daughter to renew our driver licenses and mostly for me to inquire why my check had been cashed a month earlier but I had not received the license by mail renewal. When we arrived at the Department of Public Safety, I learned they had inadvertently mistyped one of my Social Security digit numbers. They explained to my dismay that I would have to drive back to the house and bring my Social Security card to them. Upon my second trip to the DPS, they informed me they could no longer accept the metal or gold Social Security cards that I had used for 33 years due to fraudulent usages. At their suggestion, I returned home for my statement of account that showed my 33 years of work activity and payments into the system.
At the completion of my third trip, the “new” woman at the desk explained the five x’s in the first digits of the number on my S.S. number made it impossible to use it as positive proof. A fourth trip would be required for a printout at the Social Security office which, incidentally, was approximately two hours for a 30 second receipt. The S.S. office needed a current driver’s license to issue a Social Security card and the driver’s license office needed a Social Security card to issue a license.
A Social Security card by mail would take two to six weeks and require an original birth certificate, driver’s license and statement of accounts. Strangled bodies from red tape surrounded me as I wasted three-fourths of a day I couldn’t spare and my patience, so far checked, was wearing thinner by the minute.
I saw people working the system and the system working people, but mostly the system and people not working. Confusion, waste, contradictions, disorganization, politics and organizational disaster ran rampant and the powerless remained invisible to those deeply entrenched into the bureaucracy of unreasonable doubt and lame duck policies. One digit had questioned my very existence and the 20 some thousand a year taxes my household generates afforded me little more than a carelessly tossed around apology. I pulled the trigger, asked for supervisors, dropped some names and ripped some new ones in the name of my brothers to follow.
On reflection, it is the callousness of the people of the DPS and SS office that still draws most of my criticism, even over the inability to amend and correct my situation. It’s easy to understand why so many become lost in the system and even easier to realize why so many just give up. When you’re down, struggling and receive no validation and you enter revolving door policies and practices with no stable foundation, it is sometimes the final straw on the proverbial camel’s back. If a job must create such difficulties, it surely requires the most pleasant and helpful people to do it. Some of our most frustrated citizens are caught between the lines, literally, and it is a mixed blessing to occasionally end up behind them, eyes wide open and “Sharing the Pain.”
Love, YFTC & ITSOO
Mr. Redwine
“It’s hard to get straight on a road with all curves.” Jim Redwine
“Humbling is the path of our most neglected and mistreated of brothers.” Jim Redwine
“God, grant me the courage to keep my most difficult times on my mind and those who live them nonstop in my heart.” JR
THAT WORKED FOR ME
For months I had looked for him, the young man in the powered wheel chair who left his thermos with money in the church. As I stepped into the sanctuary, there he was safe and sound and on that day unaccompanied by a helper. With a plan to have lunch with my family, I told my mother I needed to visit with Eugene and hopefully find out where he lived and what I could do to help. With a multitude of disabilities, understanding his speech was difficult but job number one as I began to unravel the mystery before me.
First, I had assumed as I followed him out of the church that a van, bus or some caregiver would meet him. It was not to be. My second assumption was, as I walked with him, that he lived close by, which I later found to be not so, as well. Dressed in a suit and poorly-broken-in dress shoes, I walked beside my friend from UCC down University to Berry and then had another short conversation with the young man. He wanted chicken for lunch and asked if I was going to continue with him. He was genuinely concerned about my having to walk while he rode and how I would retrieve my vehicle back at the church. I assured him it was all right and we headed east on Berry to the Kentucky Friend Chicken across from Paschal.
I developed a huge appreciation for the mobility and capabilities of the power chairs and a heightened concern for the conditions of handicapped paths in our city. He handled the disrepairs and absences of codes well and I was humbled by his ingenuity, persistence and courage. I was amazed by the two predominant reactions to the pair of us. We were ignored or stared at. With the fairly good suit I was wearing soaked with sweat, we arrived at our destination and lined up to order his favorite -- a No. 6 with a Pepsi. The manager recognized him and talked very loudly, mistaking that his handicap included hearing loss. When asked if it was to go or to eat there, Eugene, with difficulty, looked back at me. I told him it was up to him and he responded “here.” I happily paid for his lunch and carried his tray over to the table he had chosen, and then went to secure his drink.
In returning to the table the epiphany that had escaped me hit like a ton of bricks. I would need to feed him. His aptitude for maneuvering the streets had deceived my senses for his ability to enjoy the simple joys of caring for himself. It wasn’t that I had never done it, just that I had always known the person better, longer, and was more comfortable with the intimacy of such a personal and delicate service. Rotating bites with drinks, I worried through the entire meal that he would choke as he positioned his neck and head awkwardly each time he took a bite to facilitate swallowing. He was an expert and as I wiped his mouth we exchanged some incredibly heartfelt smiles that warmed places I didn’t even know I had. It made me tired to watch the effort he expended to complete each movement and I was further humbled by his relentless spirit and countenance. He was a soldier of life and pursued normality under the most extreme set of personal limitations and challenges.
Upon the completion of lunch we exchanged several conversations as I noticed the language barrier falling away as I became accustomed to the phonics of his speech. He questioned my continuance as I did to myself, knowing my family could be worried even knowing me, but I responded I would. I asked if we were close to his house now and he responded yes, with me now knowing close is in the eyes of the beholder. With an incredibly winding and tedious route through the backstreets and parking lots, we made our way to Hurley Street, two blocks behind the Mexican Inn on Eighth and started up the handicapped ramp to his home.
Two extremely pleasant caregivers met us at the door and, after a series of short introductions, invited me in. They introduced me to two other residents with similar afflictions and answered a few of my concerns and questions on how I could help in the future. The five mile journey had ended on a lovely note with compassionate people, live-in friends and a wonderful environment for caregiving.
I thought about the six churches we passed on our journey and the ten closer in other directions and why this young man would choose the more difficult pilgrimage. Was it the way UCC had made him feel welcome or an individual who had made him feel connected? What I didn’t know was overshadowed by what I did and I was humbled by the opportunity to share in a most difficult and courageous journey. The things I do in minutes with little reflection require hours of diligence from my friend in the perseverance of a vitality of life. His dependency is limited by his determination and my scope of endurance and stamina is changed forever.
My family, with no real surprise to me, already suspected my detainment and three hour detour and was understanding of my absence. The time I invested outside of my element and off my path enriched and widened my journey. The day’s moccasins had become wheels and where and how they rolled had made an impression on my very soul. Our admiration is so often misplaced on those who achieve the most rather than those who make the most from what they achieve. The day’s sermon had been on James and how faith is nothing without works. It is my sincerest hope that Eugene realizes in the reflection of his day that it was he “That Worked for Me.”
Love, YFTC and ITSOO,
Mr. Redwine
“The miracle of life is unraveled when the intended server becomes the served.” Jim Redwine
“God, today I walked beside your most courageous and was reminded of the privileged journey provided me.” Jim Redwine
THOSE WITH LADDERS
I write a lot, work a lot, and enjoy some quiet reflective time during meals in my favorite eateries. It’s a place I can collect my thoughts, plan my journey, and depend on a warm and hospitable welcome. I always imagine when I spot someone a little help that they will pass the cigarette, beer and crack and hurry to the nearest eatery and enjoy some time of their own.
To get past the temptations and arrive at the door to eat and to be turned away is disheartening, insulting and happens all too often. I ate in a restaurant by a dog a few weeks ago, so was a little upset to hear one of my personal projects was turned away this past week. Injury to insult was that I eat often at the place he was turned away. I’m not sure the story’s acceptance was one hundred percent, so I planned my own investigation rather than call the management.
Having my friend dress and appear the same was no problem and went without saying. We met out front to enter together. The same warm greetings met us with a few raised eyebrows and some unwanted attention from the surrounding patrons. I realized without any new epiphany that what I saw and others witnessed were totally separate perceptions.
I saw someone climbing out and they saw someone staying out. No doubt some of those disapproving had made sandwiches at the night shelter, placed a toy in a gathering station box and provided canned goods to some entity in the past.
The play was not the problem – it was just on an unfamiliar stage. There is no doubt that some things are less comfortable but our ability to embrace our chances in any arena is the real test of our humanity. Our ability to be the exception to the rule can determine greatly someone’s strength to climb out and stand on his or her own. Encouragement is irreplaceable and accommodation and inclusion are gifts from “Those with Ladders.”
Love, YFTC & ITSOO,
Mr. Redwine
“It’s what we lower in the hole that defines us.” Jim Redwine
“God, the moccasins made a blister I’ll never forget.” Jim Redwine
LIGHT THAT GUIDES US ALL
There is no doubt that if you asked ten people what giving is you would probably get ten slightly to completely different answers. To me, giving means giving up something in order to provide something for someone else. It’s not a scrap, leftover, surplus, excess or extra. It means me doing without; something of mine in disrepair put second to someone else’s need. A list of priorities with an unorthodox numbering of importance heavily weighted at the back with my personal comfort, desires and ambitions. It means a portion of my fill, doing completely without, moderation, sufficiency and true necessity labeling.
Did I feel it or did I lose a hole down on my belt? Finally, above all, did I do it for the right reason, truly a second to the fact it was done but essential to the spirit of giving. Do I have the stamina and dedication to keep it up? In other words, to make it a mindset and lifelong practice. Am I able to arrive at the point of acceptance where judgment and service are separated? Are my responses of a Christian orientation and do I support a set of double standards created to absolve my behavior? Do I pass on giving a dollar to the bearer of the sign “Will work for food” with the excuse that they will just use it on a Swisher Sweet with friends?
Do I assume people of no means aren’t allowed to enjoy a vice or make a decision because they should adopt our present list of priorities for them? Do we give to manage or manage to give? Is giving penance, punishment, guilt, brownie points with God or a blessing of service and an admission of our fear of our own frailty and vulnerability? Empathy – sympathy or a distancing from both?
I sat behind a line of cars at a red light and the car in front of me waved in a car from a side street. The person in that car waved thank you and proceeded through the intersection and light. The car that offered the entry missed the light and proceeded to throw a temper tantrum, blaming the car he let in for his missing the light. He waved his hands to heaven, embarrassed surrounding lip readers, and made a general fool of himself!
Had he only wanted to let someone in on the condition that he would not be inconvenienced or delayed? Had he not really been ready for the consequences of his extension of kindness; unwilling to really go the distance? Sadly, to me, the real gift was that one went on at the expense of the one who stayed and the essence of the act went unrealized to the instigator.
Our conditions to help can narrow to a total lack of involvement. If in life we both get through the light, what did we really give up? When we brake for someone we must be prepared for the stop and any inconvenience. Service is a gift and the path can be unsure, but our commitment to go the distance can always be measured by the “Light that Guides Us All.”
Love, YFTC & ITSOO,
Mr. Redwine
“The true piece of us we share is gone forever, doing good things with those who travel elsewhere.” Jim Redwine
“God, I realize now the difference between unconditional service and conditional convenient service.” Jim Redwine
“We’re all about mistakes. They test our courage, ownership, and upgrade our futures. They pioneer better existences for those who follow and guarantee the gift of human frailty and forgiveness.” Jim Redwine
“Kids are the closest thing to God and remind us what’s really important and what absolutely is not.” Jim Redwine
“Mistakes are only a waste if we can’t use them to help define our lives.” Jim Redwine
“When it comes to kids, always begin with the premise that you can’t possibly deserve to be with them.” Jim Redwine
“Good health and time are only borrowed for the day.” Jim Redwine
“A child is the purest form of us.” Jim Redwine
“The toughest thing we may ever do is get our mouth, hands and heart all together.” Jim Redwine
“We can rest when we’re dead.” Jim Redwine
WAY OF TRUTH
It takes more to shock me each and every day and the trick for me is to stay sensitive but have the thick bark in place to successfully process and wrap my head around the things that come at me at a hundred miles an hour. I had just visited the Century Motel, helping a friend with some rent, personal needs and a few pre-stamped envelopes to attempt contacts. The $150 a week rent is no bargain for the 350- square- foot roach box and I am reminded of the blessings that flow through my life.
After completing a needs checklist and discussing the following week’s game plan to avoid eviction, I was off to pick up some KWD adventurers. My heart was heavy and my mind was cluttered and the sense of not enough hovered over me like a 300 pound weight. As I pulled forward to the intersection before me, I reached for a dollar to help the gentleman standing on the corner with a sign that said, “Will work for food.” As I handed him the bill all complacency with my efforts left me as a sinking feeling connected my eyes to my stomach.
The all too familiar man, sporting an unfamiliar beard was my friend Steve from college and I carefully and painstakingly acknowledged him. He was excited, quickly followed by embarrassment and a lengthy explanation. The only person he owed an explanation was himself and I quickly found a more pleasant line of questioning I have had ample practice with. The bottom line was it was him and not me, and I was reminded of what I believe -- that anyone can lose his way and his “life.” Why was a dollar short and a day late and I inquired into his thoughts on going forward.
Addictions made my intramural football teammate unrecognizable to me and I felt lost in a sea of inconsistencies in his communication with me. His disconnection with truth and attempts to impress me and fool himself led us quickly to the brick wall preceding goodbyes and take care.
As I drove off I mourned the person I knew and I embraced the thoughts of people I work with who communicate openly, truthfully and search for change and a positive direction. It is so true that you can only help those who wish to help themselves, but even more importantly each journey can be altered by a single wrong or right turn. Life will continue to challenge our spirit, endurance and stamina and, most likely, each of us will need help at some point in our lives. I will continue to pray for me and those around me for courage to rebound by “Way of Truth.”
Love, YFTC & ITSOO,
Mr. Redwine
“Real loss is not what was that isn’t, but the inability to differentiate the two.” Jim Redwine
“The impossible continues to remind me it doesn’t exist.” Jim Redwine
“God, where pride and familiarity blocked my efforts, I pray for a stranger to reach my friend.” Jim Redwine
