Month: May 2024

(To avoid any confusion in case you read my previous post about my brother from Alaska, this post is about my other brother.)

No one is ever really prepared to lose a loved one.  It is always a heart-breaking experience.  But at these times, our faith in God really comes into play.  We can be strong, and we can have peace because God is our refuge and strength at all times, and especially at these times. 

Psalm 46:1 –  God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

We can be comforted because God is the God of comfort.

2 Corinthians 1:3, 4 – Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.  (that’s a lot of comfort!!)

We can have hope because God promised us eternal life. 

Titus 1:2  In hope of eternal life, which God, that cannot lie, promised before the world began;

These are just a few of the scriptures that help us at these times.  There are many more.  Yet, even with our wholehearted trust in God, there will still be tears.  That’s okay!  Like my friend always says, “we’re not robots!”  Separation hurts.  But after the pain subsides a little, we can recall the good times and be thankful to have had that person in our lives. 

So, it is with my brother. 

Although his birth name was Laurie, after the character in Little Women, he never really embraced that name.  Of course, Mom always called him by his given name, but as kids we always called him Gummer.  I asked my brother, Jon once why we called him that, and he said, “because he is always chewing gum.”  I don’t know if that was actually the reason, but he has always been Gummer to me.  In fact, all my kids called him, “Uncle Gummer” when they were young.  We even had a t-shirt made for him with that name on it. 

Right before my freshman year in high school, we moved from Pittsburgh to Ohio, but Gummer stayed in Pittsburgh.  It was during this time that he adopted the name “Sarge”.  He told me once that he got that name from organizing the trip and taking charge of the group of friends who all went to Woodstock in 1969.  He still allowed me to call him Gummer, even though he preferred Sarge.  And over the years, I have tried to amend my ways to honor his wishes. 

Sarge was my closest sibling in age, only 5 years older.  We were close, not only because of age, but also because he was a gentle soul (Jon was rather short-tempered growing up).  The two brothers were always getting into some kind of mischief, and it seemed that they were in trouble more than they weren’t.  Some of the family sagas include the time they set the curtains in their bedroom on fire with their chemistry set; the time they brought a praying mantis cocoon in the house, which hatched into a million baby praying mantises; and the night they put a white sheet over a tennis racket and pushed it through my bedroom doorway with all the applicable ghostly sounds.  I was 5.  All of these events and many more got my brothers in trouble on a fairly regular basis. 

When I was around seven, we moved into a big house in the ‘suburbs’.  Jon moved out before I was 12, then it was just Sarge and me for a few years.  Sarge was enough older, that I’m sure I was a nuisance to him, but he was very tolerant most of the time.  (However, he still enjoyed tormenting me when he could.)  He liked to bake pies and he made his own pie crust from scratch – it was delicious!  We played dodgeball once with a ball of his pie-dough, which left big spots all over the walls.  Even I got in trouble for that one.  Another time we had a water fight with the hose – in the house!  Shenanigans just seemed to follow us.  We would jump from our patio which was on top of the garage into our 4-foot-deep swimming pool below or throw ‘cherry bombs’ in the water while someone was submerged.  Sarge liked meat and hated vegetables.  I like vegetables and hated meat.  So, we devised a stealthy system of transferring food from plate to plate at dinnertime so we each could eat what we liked.  Both brothers had to help bury the little animals the cat brought home that didn’t survive my attempts to nurse them back to health.  We always had a graveside service.

When Sarge got his driver’s license, in order for him to use the car, he had to take his little sister wherever she wanted to go first.  I never gave it a thought at the time, but that must have been such a pain the butt for him.  But he never complained and never made me feel like he didn’t want to drive me around.  And while he was driving me places, we often talked about very important things, like going to boy-girl parties.  That’s a good big brother! 

After Mom and Dad and I moved to Ohio, I didn’t see Sarge as much.  He was grown with his own life.  I was in high school.  He visited from time to time, and we talked on the phone, but our lives kind of moved forward independently.  I grew up, got married, went to Bible College, had children.  He worked, did his thing, had a son.  We rendezvoused at Mom and Dad’s for holidays and such.  And although we didn’t see each other very often, we still had a bond.

Time passed and Sarge ended up moving to Ohio also.  I saw him more often for a period of time.  One special memory was when Sarge and Dad helped move the kids and me to a new town.  They had to drive a little over an hour to get to where we were living, load up the truck, drive about an hour more to where we were moving, and unload everything. They had to repeat the process twice! Then they had to drive almost two hours back home.  It turned out to be about 14 hours of exhausting work and driving, but they did it for me.  I often think of how tired and sore they must have been and wonder if they ever knew how much I appreciated their efforts.  I have a very special place in my heart for what my dad and my brother did for us that day. 

These last years seemed to really limit Sarge and I seeing each other.  We would talk on the phone and maybe see each when I might be in Ohio.  He was unable to travel out of town.  We both worked until recently.  And I lived in New Jersey and now in Florida. I missed being close to my brother.   I always thought we’d have more time to catch up later, but sadly later never came.

What I want you to know about my brother is that he was a gentle soul.  He was a good big brother. He was a good friend.  He tried hard to be a good person.  He wanted to be a good dad.  He might have fallen short on some things, but who hasn’t?  He might have had his problems, but who doesn’t?  Just know that he never ever meant to hurt anyone.  He was kind and unjudgmental.  He was and will always be my brother, Gummer. 

Note to my readers:  My writing always seems to help give me closure.  I appreciate you allowing me to reminisce and heal.  Thanks for reading!

When we think of pillars, we might picture classical architecture such as the stately columns of a Greek or Roman portico.  Although some of those pillars may be impressively ornate, their primary function is to support the structure’s roof or upper level.  Perhaps we might think of a pillar like a post that holds up a section of fence.  In either case, pillars are generally an integral part of a structure’s soundness.  Pillars support something, whether vertically or horizontally and they are used for strength and stability.

We might think of a person as a pillar.  Maybe you’ve have heard the terms, “pillar of society”, or “pillar of strength” referring to a strong person with integrity.  Thinking of a person as a pillar is a compliment to their resolve, good moral character, and steadfast convictions.

I want to be a pillar.  I want to be someone who is strong and reliable.  I want to be supportive to those in need.  I want to be a stable person that people can count on.  And more than anything, I want to be pleasing to God. 

I doubt my desires are much (if any) different than yours.  In general, people want to do the right thing, especially Christians.  Of course, there are exceptions, but most folks get a lot of satisfaction from helping others and giving of themselves.  They enjoy the fruit of their labor by putting others first.  They reap the benefits of practicing the principle of giving and receiving. 

I’m not saying that only Christians do this.  There are many nice and kind people in all walks of life.  But speaking from experience, I never really knew how to be truly kind, or how to honestly give until I began to learn the truth of God’s Word.  Before that, I never had a solid foundation on which to stand.  I could only operate on feelings or everchanging worldly standards.

It is because of God’s Word that I want to be a pillar.  What God’s Word has taught me has given me something worth giving to others.  It has enabled me to remain steadfast and has encouraged me to want to help people.  God’s Word has taught me that fear and selfishness are defeating, and that we are never poorer for giving. 

God’s Word is a Word of deliverance.  It is a Word of healing, a Word of prosperity, and the Word of life!  What better thing is there to give?  What better thing is there to receive?  What better thing is there to stake your life on? 

The grandeur of the columns in classical architecture certainly made them a focal point.  But that was not their primary purpose.  They are a necessary part of the structure’s support system.  I can’t say that I’ve seen many fences with posts that I admire, but those posts are just as important for the support they provide as those stately columns.  What about the pilings of a pier, or the stanchions that form the lines at the airport?  They also perform a necessary function but are rarely even recognized.  (Except, the ones at the airport might often be cussed at!)  Yet without any of these pillars the correlating structure would fail. 

If we only want to be like the pillars of classical architecture – impressive and ornate, we’re missing the mark.  If we want everyone to notice us for our good deeds, we don’t understand the real dynamics of being a pillar.  But if we are content to be like an ordinary post that keeps the fence strong so that the cattle are secure, we have begun to understand service.  Being a pillar is being strong enough to serve whether we are recognized for it or not.  Our desire should always be to help people, regardless of any attention we receive for it.  A fence post is seldom celebrated, but its service is invaluable. 

The very coolest thing is that when we serve like the common fence post or even an airport stanchion, God still sees us as the most beautiful stately ornate marble column, even if people don’t.  In God’s eyes we are lovely pillars of faith and grace.  We are the apple of His eye and the object of His affection.  Could we ever be more special than that?  Could people’s accolades ever replace that?  The answer is NO!

Matthew 6:4 – That thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly.

So, why not spend our time and effort thinking of how we can be of service to help and bless others?  Why not set aside our self-filled thoughts for a moment and concentrate on being a pillar?  Why not seek opportunities to be strong for someone in need, to support someone in distress, or to be a stable shoulder for someone to cry on.  Why not live to serve?

What others might see as a common run-of-the-mill pillar here on earth is a tall, majestic marble pillar to God!  What sometimes might seem like a thankless job now, is earning priceless rewards in heaven.  So, stand firm and stand tall and be the best pillar you can be.  You will never be poorer for giving. 

Note to my readers:  I see you all as pillars supporting my writings.  You are special to me and greatly appreciated.  Thanks for reading!!