Thoughts On A Given Day

This past week I learned of the death of a friend. Death usually has a way of making a person become a bit more retrospective. That was certainly the case in this instance. It has me thinking of the death of my grandmother, Rachel Gunter, or Mama Rachel, as everyone I knew called her. My grandmother had lived a long life. She had celebrated her one hundredth birthday shortly before her death. That was a birthday I did not have the privilege of attending, because I was serving with the Army in Iraq at the time. I was still serving when she died. Some days we do not forget. 9/11, the day Kennedy was shot, the day I first met my wife, the day I received news of the death of my grandmother – each of these days is etched in my memory.

I was in the rear in Kuwait waiting for orders to move forward on a mission that we had known was coming for a week or so. The morning our mission was finally to begin we loaded our vehicle with gear and ammunition and drove over to the command center, the TOCC, where we were to receive our official command to move forward. When we arrived at the TOCC I stepped out of the vehicle with the required paperwork which would demonstrate our preparedness for the mission, but before I could even step into the building I was greeted by one of my tent mates who happened to be on duty that morning in operations. I asked if he wanted my paperwork, and he responded, no, he had a Red Cross message. I asked if it was for one of my men, and he told me that it was for me. That was how I was informed of the death of my grandmother.

I knew, without having to be told, that the Red Cross message did not mean I would be released from the mission and allowed to go home to attend the funeral of my grandmother. That was not the way the military operated. There were rules to be followed. Next of kin, which was the limitation placed upon those to whom I could be released to go home for a funeral, did not apply to grandparents. I knew this. I also knew that there was literally not another soul from our unit who could step forward at that moment and replace me on that mission even if a commander had desired to be gracious and allow me to go back home. Not that I was so irreplaceable, but at that time every person who was deployable in our unit was already deployed into Iraq on mission. Those assigned to my mission had been held back awaiting the go ahead on the particular mission we were to leave for that morning. There was not another soul available to take my place.

I immediately went into the TOCC, where phones were available, and called my mother, apologizing for not being able to come. She, of course, understood, and shortly thereafter, I drove with my team on the mission. I assumed I was okay, and that the news would not affect my ability to perform my mission, and to a certain extent, that was true, but I was affected by the news I had received. My thoughts were not focused on the mission at hand. My thoughts were consumed with my family – my grandmother, who I would never be able to talk to again, my mother and my family, who were forced to cope with this in my absence, and myself. My attention was not where it needed to be in a combat environment, and I was fortunate not to make any mental errors that got anyone injured.

I did not receive any Red Cross message this past week with news of my friend’s death. I learned of it as I learn of most things relating to friends or family these days, through the medium of Facebook. The impact was similar, however; it got my attention. It got me to thinking about my friend, Frances, and her son, Roger, both of whom had impacted my life decades ago.

The story of my relationship with Frances revolves around the story of my relationship with Roger, and that goes back to when I was in the seventh grade. That was the year my father, who was approaching retirement from the Air Force, was ordered to Viet Nam for a year. My mother moved back to Bryson City, North Carolina, along with me and my four siblings. That was where her mother, Mama Rachel, and many of her relatives, still lived. For about a year and a half we lived in Bryson City, and that was where I met Roger and Frances. They lived two doors down from where we lived in Bryson City, and Roger and I became good friends. To this day I consider Roger to be the first friend I ever had. I had known plenty of kids in school and in the neighborhoods where we had lived in San Antonio, Texas, but I consider them acquaintances. Roger was a friend. From the beginning we were close, and we did everything together. I cannot explain it, but to this day, even though we go long stretches without communicating at all, we are friends. There is not another soul, excepting relatives, with whom I still have a relationship from those days of my childhood and early youth. I do have friends who came later with whom I still have a good relationship, but Roger is my only friend from those years. From the beginning of my relationship with Roger I also had a relationship with his mother, Frances. I had never really thought about that fact until this past week when I heard of her death. Roger was one of the first people other than a relative to invite me over to his house. I even spent the night with him on a Saturday night and went to church with him the next day. I do not recall ever having done so with anyone else prior to that. Roger invited me, but Frances welcomed me, and loved me whether I deserved it or not, and as the years passed, I knew I was always welcome at her door whether Roger was with me or not. As the years progressed it was far more often that he was not with me, because Roger and I went down different paths in life. We remained friends, but we followed different roads.

This past week, when I heard about her death, I began to think about Frances and also about Mama Rachel, both of whom lived the majority of their lives without me being present, but both of whom always welcomed me and loved me unreservedly anytime I was with them. They were both good Christian influences for me at a time when I desperately needed good Christian influences. They both practiced a brand of Christianity that was at once both loving and accepting and yet unbending. They each lived what I would say were hard lives, never acquiring anything that this world would consider riches, but they were both rich beyond measure in many ways that money cannot buy.

They were both great women, great people. No, they were neither of them world or national or even community leaders. They were neither of them sports or media heroes or movie stars, nor had they ever possessed sufficient wealth or even desire to gather the necessary popular vote to be elected to public office. They were women who lived there lives in a quiet way in a small town in western North Carolina and raised their children to believe in God and to live in such a way that Christ could be seen in their lives. This is greatness. This is what Christ asks of us, to accept what He has given us, to go where He desires us to go, and to minister there with the gifts we are given. Those who do this have achieved greatness. In my opinion, these two women achieved it.

Approximately a decade ago my grandmother died. She was a great person, and I miss her still. This past week we lost another great person, Frances Parris. I shall miss her as well, but I know that they have both gone on to a place reserved for greatness, and that place is in the presence of God.

Micah 6:8

KJV

He has shown you, O man, what is good; And what does the Lord require of you But to do justly, To love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God?

Mark 12:28-31

ESV

²⁸ And one of the scribes came up and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well, asked him, “Which commandment is the most important of all?” ²⁹ Jesus answered, “The most important is, ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. ³⁰ And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ ³¹ The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”

Matthew 23:11-12

ESV

¹¹ The greatest among you shall be your servant. ¹² Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.

1 Corinthians 12:4-5

NIV

⁴ There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit distributes them. ⁵ There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord.