The Call

Watercolor

Samuel Carter

"The place God calls you to is the place where

your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet."

Frederick Buechner

Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC

     The 17th Century poet, George Herbert, said, "Life is half spent before we know what it is." E.E. Cummings said, "It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are." 

     My life is surrounded with words of prophets and poets- the storytellers and imaginators who flavor my conversations, the men and women who share dreams and impart to me a title- Dreamer. At age ten I was an astronaut. By sixteen it was music. When my twentieth birthday arrived, I was a painter. But, musical astronauts who paint are an odd lot- too odd for most. In my twenties I was a part of the family business- a maker of tombstones... a storyteller of a different sort. Then something happened, something I did not expect. God called me to teach.

     We hear through the filter of our history. The distant voices cry, "You must ..." and "You cannot ..." 

     As I walk in the place where God calls the voices din. And it is good.

     

Sometimes I'd Rather Be...

My Office

"I honestly think it is better to be a failure at something you love

than to be a success at something you hate."

George Burns

     I forget many things, but I never forget to laugh. Laughter happens. Reasons vary- a memory, a 'surprise', nervousness, but the best laughter is natural, an element of the moment, poured out. Sometimes laughter defies our control. Recently I was having a conversation with a friend, discussing some of the challenges of teaching High School. Before I realized the thought had formed, I said, "Sometimes I'd rather be making tombstones!" And then, I laughed.

No Tombstone Needed

"The power we attain in the world of space terminates abruptly at the borderline of time"

Abraham Joshua Heschel

When I worked for my Pop in the monument business I worked alongside Rudy, sandblaster and chief stone setter. The business was small. There was Pop, Rudy, Alice (the secretary) and me. One day, Rudy and I were in a cemetery, a cemetery on a hill. We were at the bottom of the hill, the tombstone needed to serve a grave at the top of the hill- a stone setters' conundrum. Usually when presented with this problem we would 'buck up' and make it happen. On this day the ground was soaked with rain. The ground was, in Rudy's words, "slick as a gut". (I wonder if he'd read the theory of intestinal use in the construction of the pyramids.) After a couple of false starts, we arrived at a solution. We borrowed boards from the cemetery outhouse and built a road...one step at a time. We delivered a public tribute to the dead by depriving privacy to the living. Pop asked me recently to do a presentation rendering for a monument he hopes to sell. I confess, I am intrigued. I have done many renderings, designed many memorials, but this one will become a piece of history. The memorial is for someone in the country music hall of fame, a lifetime achievement recipient. Over the years I have designed, fabricated, and installed monuments in hundreds of cemeteries. And so, I wonder, "Why is this one different?" As I pondered this question I also asked, "Why do we memorialize the dead?" I know the marketing response- I grew up in the business. And then, the words of G.K. Chesterton came to mind, "God grants us the ability to remember that we forget..." We, humans, are forgetful. To remind us that someone lived we make tombstones of granite and marble, not cardboard and marker. As we approach Easter I am, again, reminded that Jesus doesn't have a tombstone. And I am grateful.

Redemption

"A man has fallen into a pit. Do not speak to him of the good life. Throw him a rope. But when he has climbed out of the pit, and you discover that he is not happy, speak to him of the good life."

Leon Wieseltier

When I was a kid my mom saved Top Value stamps, not S&H Green stamps. They came, for the most part, from the gas station. My dad owned a tombstone company (still does), so he had a big truck. It had 2 gas tanks. I was fascinated with that. When one tank emptied you flipped a switch to change tanks (I always wondered why our car didn't have that feature). Whenever he filled both tanks there was a pile of stamps. Once, I thought I would help mom out, so I started sticking stamps in books. I didn't know some stamps carried more value than others, so I filled every square. Mom was a little miffed, which was pretty rare for her. My favorite 'stamp' days were on the visits to the redemption store. The store had a toy section. Sometimes my mom had extra stamps. Those were good days. Once we had enough stamps to purchase a model airplane kit. The best part- all the pieces were interchangeable. Three set of wings, three tail fins, three fuselages... possibilities were a mathematical delight. The power of redemption.