Mac Lawton found a need in his community, and he worked diligently to address the need. Young men who needed a man like Mac in their life found in him a powerful man who stopped everything he was doing, every week, to spend time with them. His devotionals were personal and theologically sound, the food was plentiful and good, and the competition in basketball and volleyball was fun.
But what was clear through it all was his devotion. He loved those boys. He made them his own. He shared his life with them.
I do not share that call. As much as I loved going to the Palmetto Boys' Shelter (and later, the 567 Club) with him, working with teenaged boys is not my calling.
Nevertheless, honoring my dad is important to me. Especially today.
My whole life, Dad's birthday was celebrated at Charlie's Steakhouse, in Greenville, SC, eating the best, biggest steaks I have ever had. We gathered to celebrate Grandmama's birthday (who was born on the 23rd) and Dad always got a box of Andes mints that he shared. My memories of those celebrations is a powerful call to me - I have a strong desire to celebrate and be near to family. That dinner always served to open the Christmas season for me.
And although I am celebrating his birthday in an odd way, I find myself thinking that he would be proud. Today, I worked with the Corps of Engineers Power Grid Restoration Office, working long hours to restore electricity to the people of Puerto Rico. I am planning how to best approach the work - whether to continue to drive the focus on transmission lines (the high-energy lines) or to divide resources and cover more ground. We are focusing on the work that will do the most good as quickly as possible, with the intent of bringing up lines so that people in remote areas can have electricity. We track funding. We track where the poles and wire and transformers and insulators are shipped to and from.
It does not feel like Christmas. I am not with family. I have not gone and done the dreaded shopping. I do not come home to a stack of Christmas cards on my mantle. I am not performing a Christmas program with a choir group, and it feels weird to sing carols in the office. I am not doing any of the things that traditionally mark the season for me.
But in working diligently to fill a need that I see in the community, today, I honor Mac's memory. I honor the coming of the Christ child in the manger by finding a way to make the lights stable.
Merry Christmas, y'all. Happy birthday, Dad. I miss you.
Estamos aqui.
But what was clear through it all was his devotion. He loved those boys. He made them his own. He shared his life with them.
I do not share that call. As much as I loved going to the Palmetto Boys' Shelter (and later, the 567 Club) with him, working with teenaged boys is not my calling.
Nevertheless, honoring my dad is important to me. Especially today.
Today would have been his 70th birthday.
My whole life, Dad's birthday was celebrated at Charlie's Steakhouse, in Greenville, SC, eating the best, biggest steaks I have ever had. We gathered to celebrate Grandmama's birthday (who was born on the 23rd) and Dad always got a box of Andes mints that he shared. My memories of those celebrations is a powerful call to me - I have a strong desire to celebrate and be near to family. That dinner always served to open the Christmas season for me.
And although I am celebrating his birthday in an odd way, I find myself thinking that he would be proud. Today, I worked with the Corps of Engineers Power Grid Restoration Office, working long hours to restore electricity to the people of Puerto Rico. I am planning how to best approach the work - whether to continue to drive the focus on transmission lines (the high-energy lines) or to divide resources and cover more ground. We are focusing on the work that will do the most good as quickly as possible, with the intent of bringing up lines so that people in remote areas can have electricity. We track funding. We track where the poles and wire and transformers and insulators are shipped to and from.
It does not feel like Christmas. I am not with family. I have not gone and done the dreaded shopping. I do not come home to a stack of Christmas cards on my mantle. I am not performing a Christmas program with a choir group, and it feels weird to sing carols in the office. I am not doing any of the things that traditionally mark the season for me.
But in working diligently to fill a need that I see in the community, today, I honor Mac's memory. I honor the coming of the Christ child in the manger by finding a way to make the lights stable.
Merry Christmas, y'all. Happy birthday, Dad. I miss you.
Estamos aqui.
1 comment:
Very nice. I send you peace.
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