Steve's Letter: "I've been remembering!"

Do you know what I did this morning?

I've been remembering.

I got an email from Wanda Lu Paxton who lives in Brevard, North Carolina, and works at WSQL, a radio station there. She said she was putting together a brief history of that station which had previously been WPNF ("Wonderful Pisgah National Forest"). In 2007, the station was bought by a number of local business folks, renamed WSQL and moved to downtown Brevard on Main Street.

At any rate, she had been doing some checking and found out that I had written about having worked at WPNF years ago and wondered if I could tell her something of my experience with the station.

Let me share with you some of what I wrote to Wanda:

I was a student at Brevard College in those days and worked for a laundry collecting shirts from students for 25 cents a shirt. I got three cents a shirt. (I didn't have the money for college and was saving every penny to pay tuition and expenses.) I figured that there had to be something better and easier, and which paid more than the laundry. A friend said, "Steve, you have a good voice. Why don't you go down to the radio station and see if they will hire you?"

So I just "showed" in the lobby of WPNF and asked for a job. They heard my voice and hired me on the spot. That was in 1958 and I worked at the station through that year and into the summer of 1960.

The folks at the station were extremely patient and kind to the "kid" who didn't know what he was doing and made enough mistakes to get him fired at any other station.

It was a good time for me and the last time that radio was that much fun and that laidback. Every evening we had a program called, "Music for the Dinner Hour." I would put an album on and, as it was playing, turn up the speakers and go out on the front porch of the station and smoke my pipe. When I would hear the clicking of the first side of the album running out, I would go back into the control room, give a station break, turn the album over for the second side, and go back to the front porch and look at the mountains.

In those days, there was (and I suspect there still is) a wonderful sense of community of which WPNF was a part. Once I was out for a few days with a cold or flu and received a pile of get well cards from people all over the community.

I will always be grateful for those days at WPNF and the people there who put up with some very bad and unprofessional "stuff" from me until they got me trained. Even today I'm grateful for them because they were people who "took a chance" on a young college student who didn't know what he was doing. They gave me the training that enabled me to pay for my undergraduate degree, to support my growing family and, later, when I was working for commercial radio in Boston, to pay for my education at Boston University School of Theology.

Today, much of my life centers around radio and sometimes I think of those kind people. I don't remember their names; but, when I think of them, I "rise up and call them blessed."

Sorry. Probably more information than you needed...but you know about old guys.

But there is a point. Our memories contain the "smell of Jesus."

C.S. Lewis said that before he knew God, he "experienced" God. He said that he would be working and would sense someone watching. He would turn around and no one would be there. He said, "To say that I was searching for God was like saying that a mouse was searching for a cat."

You'll remember in John 8 when Jesus was criticized by the religious folks who brought up the name of Abraham, He said something that was astonishing...and still is.

He said, "Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am" (verse 58).

When Jesus said that, he was saying a couple of things (maybe more) of great importance. First, he was using a form of God's name and applying it to himself. Second, he was talking about the timelessness of his presence in places where one doesn't expect him.

I don't remember the names of the people at that radio station, but they gave me a gift that has been a part of my life ever sense. I don't even know if they were Christians or not...but they were working for Jesus on behalf of one of Jesus' followers-me.

When Helen Keller was told about Jesus, she said that she knew him, but she didn't know his name. I knew him too. I just didn't know his name.

As I was writing this, my poet friend in Dallas, Bruce Fogerty (the "Birdbath Poet"), sent me a great poem. That was a "God thing" too.

Grace Masquerading

The darkest hour of some lives
Often yield the big surprise-
Grace masquerading once again
Who would have thunk it; Oh my friend!

For grace attends life's costume balls:
In prison cells and funeral halls!
Unfriendly courts and ugly falls!
Hospital rooms and midnight calls!

Grace masquerading once again;
Who would have thunk it; Oh my friend!

Eternal epilogue will bring
Perspective to all happenings,
Both the good, and seemingly bad
For those who call the Father-

Dad...

So, I've been remembering this morning and, in the remembering, I'm thankful to God for the story he has written (and is still writing) in my life. I've thought about teachers, mentors, friends and even critics. I've thought about those who loved me when I didn't deserve it. I've even remembered the times when I thought I was going to die from the pain. I've gone back and looked at a pile of memories and I'm so thankful for God's kindness and presence in all of it...

...even before I knew his name.

Why not take some time to think about your story too?

Think about the people who affected your life. Remember the events that were such a wonderful delight and even the ones that caused great pain. Remember those people who have come in and out of the story that God wrote for you. Remember the sound of your children laughing, the loss of those you loved, the people along the way who were unexpectedly kind and those who gave you guidance when you needed it. Think of those who helped you and those who hurt you (helping when they didn't even know it). Think of those (you may not even remember their names) God used to write the story of his grace in your life.

It's the smell of Jesus in the memories.

Jesus says, "I was there."

He asked me to remind you.

In His Grip,