Every 5 1/2 months I come to Minneapolis to do on-campus work at Bethel University for the graduate school program in which I'm enrolled. Until October of 2005, I'd never been to Minnesota. I'm now in the middle of my fourth trip here. Every time I come to the Twin Cities, I fall even more in love with the place. This trip has been no exception.
Since there are too many great things about this city to mention here, I'll just give you a brief look at what today has been like for me. It's Sunday, and the weather has been beautiful all weekend. The four of us (the other three guys I room with and myself comprise a group known as "The IR-Reverends." Trust me, it would require far too much explanation and disclosure), got up and walked down the block to get coffee at Dunn Brothers. Since we stay right in the heart of downtown Minneapolis, the walk to Dunn Bros. is always a great experience. Today was no exception. Dunn's is a chain in this area, and the one close by us is one of the more relaxing places you'll find. We had some great conversation about old TV shows we love (Crockett and Tubbs rule) and then the three of them took off for a park. After some errands, I set up shop with a book and the newpaper at the Nicollet Island Pavillion and began to let my heart, mind and soul be fed. I sat right on the bank of the Mississippi River with the skyline of Minneapolis in front of me, and was nearly overcome with how amazingly blessed I am to have been given the gift of this city. It brings something to life in me that just doesn't get tapped into back in Tennessee. I don't know what that is, but I know it's great to experience it.
The truth is, that's not even half of the what has made this day so great. And, the day continues. Our good friend from Chicago, Mike Johnson, just showed up at our hotel with enough food to feed an army, so the good times roll on. I wish you were here. I wish ALL of you were here. Wherever you are, my wish for you is that you have truly experienced and celebrated being alive today. Got to go now. There's life to be lived.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
A good day
Last Friday, March 30, 2007, my grandfather died suddenly of a heart attack. His name was William Sterling Redman, Sr. Bill Redman. Papa. He went by a lot of names, but had pretty much the same identity with everyone. When you knew Bill, you knew a guy who was the same with everyone. A straight shooter, plain talker, always told it like he saw it, and most of the time the way he saw it was pretty much the way it was.
He was a World War II veteran, was married to the same woman for almost 70 years, built at least 3 successful businesses, lived to not only see his great-grand kids, but also his great-great-grandkids, and was still working at the age of 90. In fact, when he died last Friday, he was out working his job in Orlando, making deliveries for the Celebration company. He died like we all expected him to, on the job and immdediately. Most people didn't know that for years his heart had only operated at about 30% capacity, but he still went at it every day, up at 4:30 every morning, and out the door before 6:00. He had more energy and drive than a lot of people I know who are half his age. He had no quit in him, and lived life wide open, with one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen.
He was tough, demanding, honest, tender, funny and generous. He lived his faith in the best way I know how- fully human, without a bunch of useless or ridiculous crap that has nothing to do with being a person of faith. He was the same kind of man as is described in a recent John Mayer quote about Eric Clapton: "The man is absolutely bullshit-free." That was my grandfather.
Yesterday I stood over his casket before the funeral and put my hands on his and said the only words I could say, but they were also the only words I needed to say: "Thanks for everything." Later, at the Floriday National Cemetary where he was laid to rest with thousands of other American heroes, I stood between his casket and the people who had come to tell him goodbye and tried my best to honor my grandmother's request of saying the final words over him. Among a few other things, I said that were all thankful. Thankful for a life well-lived, for the long shadow he cast that we were all covered by, thankful for his humanity, and thankful to the God who gave him to us. We then gave him back to Him, full of thanks. It was a good day.
He was a World War II veteran, was married to the same woman for almost 70 years, built at least 3 successful businesses, lived to not only see his great-grand kids, but also his great-great-grandkids, and was still working at the age of 90. In fact, when he died last Friday, he was out working his job in Orlando, making deliveries for the Celebration company. He died like we all expected him to, on the job and immdediately. Most people didn't know that for years his heart had only operated at about 30% capacity, but he still went at it every day, up at 4:30 every morning, and out the door before 6:00. He had more energy and drive than a lot of people I know who are half his age. He had no quit in him, and lived life wide open, with one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen.
He was tough, demanding, honest, tender, funny and generous. He lived his faith in the best way I know how- fully human, without a bunch of useless or ridiculous crap that has nothing to do with being a person of faith. He was the same kind of man as is described in a recent John Mayer quote about Eric Clapton: "The man is absolutely bullshit-free." That was my grandfather.
Yesterday I stood over his casket before the funeral and put my hands on his and said the only words I could say, but they were also the only words I needed to say: "Thanks for everything." Later, at the Floriday National Cemetary where he was laid to rest with thousands of other American heroes, I stood between his casket and the people who had come to tell him goodbye and tried my best to honor my grandmother's request of saying the final words over him. Among a few other things, I said that were all thankful. Thankful for a life well-lived, for the long shadow he cast that we were all covered by, thankful for his humanity, and thankful to the God who gave him to us. We then gave him back to Him, full of thanks. It was a good day.
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