Thank You

Yesterday was nuts. Without boring you with intricate details, I can tell you that the simplicity of getting an insurance check co-endorsed by my mortgage company to pay the roofer for his work took three days, 300 miles of round trips to the bank, four completed forms with six different signatures, five phone calls, five different checks, five individuals, a notary public and a partridge in a pear tree. The actual roofing was done more easily and faster.

Then this morning I opened my mail from yesterday (a task put off due to the aforementioned fiasco) and I read two amazing stories; one about a friend who just returned from a trip to Mexico and the other about a beggar’s donation to Mother Teresa’s work in Calcutta.

My friend’s story recounted how he was blessed to participate in building two new homes in Reynosa, Mexico in six days. That’s right, two homes built in six days. Here’s the run-down….

One home was for a 74 year old man and the other one was for an 87 year old man. Both men were living in squalor and filth. The more significant of the two was the older man who lived under a tarp. I’ve been to Reynosa and I can testify to the dominance of its poverty. For the American mind that has only seen our version of poverty, it is almost impossible to describe. These two men would likely be classified as the worst of the worst among our homeless population. But for Reynosa, they are more likely to be among the average poor.

So, building two houses in six days to replace sticks, bricks and a rotting tarp was fairly simple. My friend celebrated the crowning touch on both houses….doors.

Then I opened a devotional based on some of Mother Teresa’s life experiences. One story immediately grabbed me. A beggar came to Mother Teresa with his handful of a day’s worth of begging. He insisted on giving it to her. She stood for moment staring at the man and she knew that to take this money would mean he would go hungry and to not take the money would be unfair and painful to him. She received his gift and celebrated the joy that filled his face.

I am suddenly and outrageously thankful for the hassle I went through to pay for my new roof. I am filled with gratitude for the insurance money that paid for 20 to 30 more years of a roof over my head. I love my mortgage company and all the people who make my house a dream come true. I love my insurance agent. I love my contractor.

I love my church family who sacrifice to give week after week and those sacrifices, great and small, make my salary look like a king’s ransom for most people living in Reynosa or Calcutta.

I don’t have construction skills and my back wouldn’t last a day digging ditches. My dad, an earthy east Texas oil drilling, truck driving, Teamster Union loving Irishman, once said (out of his definition of love for me), “It’s a good thing you can preach, because you can’t do nothin’ else.” His world was filled with sweat, blood, bare knuckles negotiations, cursing as second language and Chicago traffic jams. His slice of fame came from a picture on the front page of the Chicago Tribune when his truck slid sideways in an ice storm at rush hour and blocked the Dan Ryan Expressway. What’s my point? I am thankful that I live the life of relative ease I am living just by the sweat of my “voice”.

Thank you, all of you reading this, who have given me irretrievable pieces of your life to read my ranting. I love my extended spiritual family from near and far who speak and give blessings to me for nothing more than my ministry gift. Wow…thank you!

Thank you God, I am over yesterday’s nuttiness. Happy Thanksgiving everybody. Gobble, gobble….