October in Indiana—Twice in ’23

“Where you from?” I ask the man who was my only early morning companion up for coffee in our hotel. “Southeastern North Carolina,” he said. “You?” I said we live in Fort Payne, AL now, but we’re from near here and we’ve lived (ad infinitum). He grinned and said, “Wow! I came up her 47 years ago, met my wife, got married and have lived in the same town all 46 years of our marriage.” Was she from Greenwood? “She was, I came up for another reason, but met her and we both knew we never wanted to be apart.” That’s a great love story, I said. (And it is, and there are many, many more just as love-filled.)

A few decades ago, I listened to several tapes (some of you may remember cassette tape decks in your cars) of Positive Thinking proponents: Zig Ziegler, Jim Rohn, Earl Nightingale, etc. My favorites were Jim and Zig. I could listen to them several times before I would give them away or make copies to give away—that was illegal, I never did that! But, I developed favorite stories. I can still tell some of those stories, I listened so often!

Zig would tell short ditties about his wife from time to time, always in the best of taste, and always showing her as smarter than he, being willing to place the brunt or the heavy line on himself. He called her “That Redhead” in these stories as an endearing term but often invoking a little humor to the story. But, once he was referring to what should get told and what should not and he referred to the Bible truth concerning Christ going to the cross because He loved us and died for our sins, was buried, and His Father raised Him from the dead to justify us, if we believed on Him. As Zig finished telling this, he said “that IS the greatest love story ever told, as the book says. And, we should always tell it as just that—the greatest!”…he paused, then said, “You know there are many great love stories in the lives of us normal sinners, but the truly great ones among us don’t get told! And I don’t think they should! Because they belong to the people in them, it is their story! their overwhelming love! and it is theirs to hold dear! Oh my, how wonderful is my story, me and That Redhead! But, I’m not telling it!!”

And he didn’t, but of course, he just had told it!

Most of us at the family reunion on the 14th (and our crowd was down about 50%—several had out of town trips they couldn’t avoid, a few had injuries or ailments to contend with, besides it being a chilly, rainy day) had a really great time together and with fewer people each little conversation pool was just a little longer than normal. But what I came away with was the interesting number there without their “better half.” Not a criticism: illness, recent surgery, working, and some who have passed away, all good honest reasons, but noticeable anyway. Of course, some younger ones not married or unmarried and some just kids, but it felt very filled with love for one another. Made me miss those who couldn’t be with us and made me remember some who have passed away. Mostly sweet memories. 

Remembering what we saw going North on this trip (as we went North on I-65 we saw South-bound traffic backups for miles in Kentucky) we decided to swerve at the river when returning, taking I-64 over to Lexington and I-75 South. We had done this the two weeks before having come up for the funeral of my wife’s lifelong friend and it was smooth sailing all the way. Hmmm, not this time; took an extra hour or so because of packed roads and a little bit of new road work. [Here’s a thought: not often do we say “believe the politicians,” but we can believe them when they say, “Our infra-structure is in bad shape!” since experience tells us when traveling it really is in bad shape.]

The friend who died had lived a very full life: of troubles, yes, but not dominated by them; of the love of a good man, yes; after he had passed, a very good old age companion who loved her and travelled with her for several years. But, her community life was equally commendable. After her children were raised, she spent around 20 years in public service to the people in Johnson County, IN. We believe her testimony of trusting in Christ was pure and simple as it should be. Hearing others speak of their love for her and testifying of her love for them was heart-warming.

On the morning of her funeral we arrived several minutes early so I sat down in the wide, mortuary corridor—you know, group seating spaced out down a long wide hall. With several of those in this place, I was surprised a man I didn’t know sat down right beside me. Because there was another funeral across the hall, I asked if he was there for our friend’s. He said he was “officiating” at hers, going on to tell me he didn’t know her, but was in Campus ministry with one of her sons. We talked a few minutes and it became obvious to me he was nervous about it. I told him of our conversations and hearing what we believed was a simple testimony of her faith in Christ. He became really excited to hear it! Saying he didn’t know and now he could see how to tell her story as her sons wanted it told. 

My opinion of his message was he didn’t deliver it perfectly, but he was totally at ease in his presentation and interaction with the audience about her life and her hope. 

That was a quick trip to Indiana because we knew we would go again as I wrote above barely two weeks later. Going “Back Home Again in Indiana” is a favorite thing for me, I enjoy going every time, even if it’s for a sad reason. Uuh, at least 9 months out of the year—those other 3, only if I know the ground is not covered with that dirty white stuff or frozen stiff when I stepped on it. 

Thanks for reading, the Elder