My daughter-in-law Marie left yesterday morning but Jeremy hung around most of the day. As the hours moved along I kept yelling out more of the things that are on my Bullet List, those things that still bring a sense of fulfillment in my life. And because Clair Jarrell told me to keep going I will. So, again, in no paticular order here are more things on the list.
I went to Cuba several years ago with Bill Berry (not the former drummer for R.E.M. but the other one). It was a mission trip and I gave a speech in St. John Baptista Church. Then he sent the kids home and we spent another week having a good time in Havana. On the return trip I was busted by Immigration in the Bahamas. Picking out this sweet grandma of a customs agent, I showed her my passpord and she asked me what I'd been going.
"Just hanging out," I answered, which was true. I just didn't explain where.
"YOUR LYING!" she scowled. "You went to Cuba! Where is your letter from the Treasury Department?"
I patted my pockets but it never magically appeared.
"Go over there," she demanded pointing with a withered bony finger.
So these two really large guys interviewed me for a couple of hours about what I had been doing. After a while they stamped a bunch of stuff on my papers and let me go. I immediately called Bill and asked him if we had a letter from the Treasry Department.
"Oh man," he answered, "I knew I forgot to give you something."
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When I was in my mid 20s I was asked to deliver a keynote speech at the Woman's Missionary Union Meeting at the Southern Baptist Convention. Being an inner City Liberationist of a Minister (e.g. radical leftover hippy with a guitar) my boss drug me kicking and screaming and purchased my first suit to wear for the occassion. In protest I clipped a diamond ear ring to my ear for the speach which was in front of 3,500 people. I received seven standing ovations and can still remember trying to peer through the bright spotlights and seeing the smiling ladies standing and clapping.
The next day Dr. Charles Stanley told me to shut up.
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When the Bread & Butter Cafe, the prelude to the Starfish Cafe, a culinary arts training program for homeless and at-risk people was falling apart, the three principals were in my office. Two of us wanted to continue the program. One wanted to close everything down. We went back and forth for hours and just when I thought that we were getting somewhere, he said, "Oh just shut it down! It isn't worth saving. It's just homeless people."
I stood up and slammed my hands on the table, looked at him and used a verb followed by a pronoun. I did this rather loudly.
Rebekah, my assistant was in the office next to mine and had heard the entire conversation. When I did this, she started clapping and patting her feet on the floor in a happy dance.
A priceless Union Mission moment!
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My youngest daughter Chelsea and I were in the Florida Keys sitting by the pool at night after a long day of diving. We were talking and somehow the topic turned to religion and Catholics and the St. Vincent's Academy that she had just graduated from. She asked me some question and I replied that only the Pope knows.
"Let's call him," she said.
So I picked up my cell phone and dailed 1-800-Vatican. A busy single kept buzzing in response.
We laughed into the night.
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As I think about the things that are on my Bullet list, I am struck by how they are things that just happened. They were not planned. And while I am extremely proud of many of the things that I was part of accomplishing at both Jefferson Street Baptist Chapel and Union Mission, they are not dominate here. These were all pure human emotional experiences. Most involved others.
There is a lesson that I am trying to learn from this.
