Memories of Christmas with the Family

I miss my family. I miss running around through snow covered fields and rows of trees while we pick out the perfect evergreen. I miss feeling the snow fall down the back of my shirt as I saw away at the base of a shaking tree. I miss dodging snowballs thrown by kids dodging in and out of the trees while we drag our living room centerpiece back to the trailer.

I miss diving into the sled and yelling for that little kid to get out of the way, lest he is launched into the air by a piece of racing plastic supporting too many bodies. I miss feeling the air slice by my head, turning my ears and nose bright red as I race my brother down the hill and then quickly tumble out of the sled just in time to avoid the creek at the bottom of the hill. I miss coming home and stripping off layers of coats, sweaters, shirts and socks and then sipping eggnog and hot chocolate and talking to other rosy cheeked smiling faces.

I miss the Christmas carols and long rides through the country side eyeing glittering houses and standing face to face with giant nut-crackers, Santa Clauses and snow men. I miss trying to remember the words that form each of the twelve days of Christmas with my brothers and sisters. I miss the beautifully decorated table, the food and the four candles of advent that now stand at staggered heights while we eat and laugh and open the one little present that sits beside each of our plates.

I miss the soft glow of the Christmas tree decorated with a hodgepodge of ornaments and multi-colored lights. I miss early Christmas mornings when it seems that dad is taking a very, very long time to read the Christmas story. I miss the kids and presents and piles of wrapping paper spread all over the living room, making it nearly impossible to navigate without tripping.

I miss my family at Christmas.

My Commencement Ceremony

Our speaker was terrible. Just when we thought he was going to return to his subject and address to us as students, he would turn to our college president and make a joke about giving his granddaughter a sports scholarship so that she could attend the school or he would start speaking about the destructiveness of homosexual marriage. I remember the Canadian speaker saying, “But you Americans didn’t help the ordinance of marriage any when your Episcopal Church began ordaining homosexuals.” When he continued to speaking for nearly an hour I considered standing up and throwing my graduation cap at him, but I assumed that I would probably miss, so I amused myself with the fun little tassels at the end of the honor cords hanging around my neck. I have been to many Southeastern graduations and heard many speakers, but this one was the worst.

Finally he finished and the degree candidates began to walk across the stage. “Would the candidates for the department of religion please stand and approach the platform,” Dr. Herron, the dean of students, said. I rose and followed the black gown and cap in front of me. The line of students between me and the stage dwindled as I drew near the top of the steps. It was now my turn to take the walk that I had so excitedly watched hundreds of former students complete. What happened next seemed to take a very long time. Dr. Herron began speaking. “Philip Mayer,” pause, “summa cum laude,” pause and then finally “four point-o.” As he finished speaking I began walking. Out I looked over the sea of faces. I do not remember any sounds or feelings or walking across the stage, but suddenly, I had reached our president, Dr. Mark Rutland, grasped his hand and held onto the diploma he had just handed me while trying to smile for the flashing camera. That was it. I walked back to my seat and moved my tassel from the right side of my hat to the left. Then, out of the speakers came, “Ladies and gentleman, I present to you the baccalaureate class of 2004.” Someone was grabbing my hand and congratulating me. All of the graduates were patting backs, smiling and were full of happiness. We had finished.

Working at the Sheriff's Office

There I sit each working day, in my navy green pants and pristinely ironed white shirt, a badge on each shoulder and a silver star on my chest. Two computer screens stare, steadily back at me and like those awful ear muffs we wore as kids, a headset sits aloft my hair.

“Polk County Sheriff's Office, this is Philip speaking” –words I hear myself say many times each day.

The hurried voice of a female caller says, “Hello, is this the Sheriff’s Office? I’ve been raped.”

“You’ve been raped?” I ask, wanting to make sure that I have heard her correctly.

“Yes” she says. You can hear fear in her voice.

“Where are you at?”

“I’m calling from a payphone. I was going to the grocery store when these three Mexicans grabbed me and dragged me back to a trailer. . .”

“Is it safe there? Can you go back into the grocery store?” I ask.

“Into the grocery store! That’s where they got me. Listen, I’m hurting and I think that they’re coming back I gotta go.”

“Click”

There was nothing we could do. We had no idea where she was calling from.

Most of the calls are not so startling: “My neighbors won’t turn their music down and my baby can’t sleep.” A couple of weeks ago a man called in and said, “There’s a guy across the street from me who’s working on a car and he’s only wearing a thong. Could you send a deputy over here?” So is life working in the telecommunications center at the Sheriff’s Office.

A Home for Melissa

Thanks so much for all of your prayers for my fiancée. Melissa will not be homeless after all. Melissa had explained to a friend of hers at work, the awkward position in which she and Meagan had found themselves and after going home and talking with her husband about the situation, they generously offered to rent to Melissa and Meagan the upstairs half of their home for the next four months. Melissa says that “I am amazed and blessed over and over again for the goodness and faithfulness of God in my life . . . God Bless and have a wonderful holiday season!”

The Final Undergraduate Struggle

The clench of Southeastern College is beginning to grip tighter around me as the school work that I must finish before Wednesday becomes ever the more prominent in my life. I was able to persuade one of my professors to cancel a ten to twelve page research paper; which, as I am sure you can imagine, took some amount of premeditated convincing. That lightened the weight slightly and I now have only two exams, a sermon to write and a couple of lengthy papers to complete before I slip on the hat and gown and join the processional on Saturday, December 11. Over the next few days I will be plugging away at the books as I attempt to complete the final leg of my race here at Southeastern College.