"Dive Angela, Dive"

 My daughter Angela is a “Dumpster Diver.”  What is a Dumpster Diver?  Let me share portions of an article by Kari Abate and Kyle Looby on “The Art of Dumpster Diving:”

Dumpster diving is the deliberate art of gleaning perfectly usable items from commercial and residential dumpsters. It is legal in most areas as long as there are no signs posted against trespassing. To be sure, check your city ordinances, or just call the police department.

The term dumpster diving refers to the position most divers assume in order to retrieve items without actually getting in the dumpster: Picture yourself balanced on the edge of the dumpster, head in the dumpster and legs in the air behind you. (Novice divers may experience some initial discomfort around the abdomen and ribcage. This will pass.)

Safety should always take precedence. No bag of sheets or even the mother lode of brand-name designer shirts is worth a trip to the hospital!

Now, the fun part. Where does one dive? Generally speaking, any store that has a dumpster is up for grabs. Retail dumpsters include craft supply stores, party supply stores, drug stores (a great source of greeting cards, boxed chocolates, small gifts, cases of soda and toys), book stores, department stores, discount stores, pet supply stores, home décor stores, thrift stores and hardware stores.

Once you've started diving, you'll never look at a dumpster the same way again. To us, they are no longer merely trash receptacles, but rather secret treasure chests waiting to be looted.  But you'll never know what you may find in your local dumpsters unless you look, so get out there and lift some lids.

Strip malls are the best places to find retail dumpsters -- they're usually located behind the buildings. Apartment complexes, meanwhile, are a great source of furniture, clothes, small appliances, televisions, VCRs, household items and more.

Angela’s specialty is discarded furniture.  She has become very successful transforming old cabinet doors into plaques with Scripture on them.  People adorn their homes with these plaques creating a market for Angela to sell more.  Family has bought several from her and given them as gifts for showers, birthdays, and Christmas.  People love the transformed dumpster treasures.

Angela has refurbished tables and chairs, coffee tables and chairs, and home entertainment centers.

Angela has raided my shed for items that could be transformed into décor treasures.  She collected old car tags, a broken John Deere lawnmower steering wheel, an old sign or two and probably some stuff I haven’t missed until I need them.

Angela may have inherited the art of dumpster diving from my dad.  He did not dumpster dive, but he did collect produce that a grocery store dumped and daddy supplied the barrels.  It is amazing what stores discard.  We never had to buy butcher knives or aprons.  There was a steady supply from the store.

We started out slopping the hogs with this foodstuff, but we realized there was a lot of good food tossed away.  Pardon the pun, but we did eat high on the hog until the health department informed the grocery store that dad could no longer get the waste claiming that it was unhealthy.

All I can say the only way it was unhealthy it got the hawgs slaughtered and the Hopper family was a little on “porky” side in our size.  I wonder how people got by for centuries without health department regulations.

 

I read another article on dumpster diving where a father, a dumpster diver, cooked a very delicious breakfast from his dumpster dive.

Once you get over the initial shock that people actually do this, you'll quickly realize that it isn't as gross as it sounds. Commercial dumpsters are very clean because employee trash is bagged, while the good stuff is usually in a box or tossed in loosely. Actually, store dumpsters usually smell quite good because of the discarded candles, potpourri and perfume. (Most dumpsters smell like the stores that use them!) Dumpsters are designed to keep critters out, so you typically won't run into rats and other vermin.

As Americans, we are wasteful.  Bins of good food, clothing, and household items head to dumps while people need food, clothing, and shelter.  Company policies and government regulations prevent or halt what could be given to shelters and charity organizations for distributions to those who need it.

On another venue, our churches have all the resources to feed spiritual food, but as a nation we are suffer spiritual malnutrition.  A great example comes from a survey of women in churches by Dr. Denise George.

 In her book, What Women Wish Pastors Knew, she writes,

All around me I see women who exist with the barest scriptural basics and live with thin skin stretched over bones of spiritual malnourishment . . . As a nation, we possess all the necessary resources to feed starving people the life-giving meat of Scripture, yet hungry people search the trash bins of secularism in search of spiritual food.

 And when ye reap the harvest of your land, thou shalt not wholly reap the corners of thy field, neither shalt thou gather the gleanings of thy harvest.  And thou shalt not glean thy vineyard, neither shalt thou gather every grape of thy vineyard; thou shalt leave them for the poor and stranger: I am the Lord your God (Leviticus 19:9-10 KJV).

Behold, the days come, saith the Lord God, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord (Amos 8:11 KJV). 

For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in (Matthew 25:35 KJV).

 

Aaron I Miss Our Morning Talks

 

I realize more and more how much I miss my daily father-son talks with my youngest son Aaron while taking him to school each morning.  It was fun sitting with him at McDonalds in Jemison munching on breakfast and listening to the morning conversations of the “coffee shop” old men.  Most of them have passed into eternity and Aaron eats breakfast somewhere around Mount Belleview, Texas.  On February 11, 1999, I had an inspiration to write a poem about the “coffee shop” men.

“OVER A BILLION TOLD”

Each morning they gather around the table, To tell jokes, lies, and fables.

Each man is an expert in solving the problems of life, But each one admits he does not understand his wife.

Yesterday they were the best, Today they cannot do very much without taking a rest.

Their topic changes each morning, It’s grandkids or the weather and how they change without warning.

Today it was fishing and the one that got away, Tomorrow it may be a friend or family member that passed away.

They discuss the younger generation’s tattoos, body piercing, and pants too far down, And they laugh of their youthful folly of stealing watermelons, drinking rotgut whiskey, and drag racing through town.

It’s fun to know each man and share the start of the day, Realizing one morning I will be that way.

They have paid their dues and earned respect, To spend each morning talking in retrospect.

There is Mr. Blankenship, Seymour, and Mr. Thrash, Sharing friendship with Bobby, J.W., and Mr. Glass.

Many more will come and with their joy be entertained, Whether the day starts with sunshine or whether it has rained.

So in the morning if you want a smile from the men of old, Go to the restaurant in Jemison where lies, over a 100 billion, will be told.

 

“Coffee Shop” conversations are scattered all through God’s Word.  There is the conversation of the Angels with Abraham, Balaam and his donkey, Jesus and the woman at the well, and Jesus and Zacchaeus. One of my favorite television programs, The Andy Griffith Show had Floyd’s barbershop.  The favorite coffee shop at the cement plant was the kiln control room.  There are plenty of conversations, inspired sometimes by the scandal sheets, at the Walmart checkout, both lanes!  Another great place was Papas’ Meat department in Linden.  Now that I spend in conversation with Lisa’s dog Loci and my dog Rocko.  It is a master/dog conversation usually about their wondering over to the neighbor’s house and digging holes in their pen when doing solitary confinement for wondering.

Most conversations will have God in them regardless if it is the latest on President Trump and the great election steal, Alabama’s own honorable Jeff Sessions who lost out to an Auburn football coach, the latest piece of juicy news, a spicy novel, or whatever. 

Each day, when Director of Missions before retirement, I was engaged in conversations.  Some people kidded me about having banking hours when I arrived late at the office.  I tell them that I have been working and receive pay to talk and engage in conversation.  A preacher friend of mind once told me concerning the small town of Linden and everyone knowing me.  He said, “You are a big fish in a small pond.”

The inspiration for this article was one by Dr. Timothy George, one of my professors of Beeson Divinity School at Samford University.  In an Article, “Can We Talk?” Dr. George writes:

 

Conversations can be deep or shallow, casual or serious, but they invariably take place as an encounter between an “I” and a “thou.” They happen at a level of verbal engagement when we have moved beyond the formal courtesies of cordiality—Good morning! Have a nice day! How’s the weather looking?—and reached the point of listening and responding to another person. One-way monologues are not conversations. They are soliloquies.

 

Dr. George said that Pope Francis has recently identified dialogue and listening as two essential components in breaking down walls of misunderstanding:

 

Problems grow, misunderstandings and divisions grow, when there is no dialogue. A condition of dialogue is the capacity to listen, which, unfortunately, is not very common. … The attitude of listening, of which God is the model, spurs us to pull down walls of misunderstandings, and to create bridges of communication, overcoming isolation and closure in one’s small world.

 

We cannot fully understand the impact of our conversations.  That is the reason as we share the Great Commission of Matthew 28:18-20, the world is coming to us.  Let us share God with those we meet.  The example of a maidservant is a great inspiration for us to share.

 

Now Naaman, captain of the host of the king of Syria, was a great man with his master, and honorable, because by him the Lord had given deliverance unto Syria: he was also a mighty man in valour, but he was a leper.  And the Syrians had gone out by companies, and had brought away captive out of the land of Israel a little maid; and she waited on Naaman's wife.  And she said unto her mistress, Would God my lord were with the prophet that is in Samaria! for he would recover him of his leprosy. And one went in, and told his Lord, saying, Thus and thus said the maid that is of the land of Israel (2 Kings 5: 1-4 KJV)

 

Sugar Ridge

 

Sugar Ridge 

Sugar Ridge not sweet but named from sour sarcastic pun

Filled with adversity, heartache, and pain

Days growing up there were full of hard work, plenty of love, and fun

Especially the days smelling plum blossoms after a spring rain

 

Smells of honeysuckles, clover, daffodils filled the air

Where the outhouse, pigpen, and chicken coop are no more

Where children ran hills and hollers with their feet bare

Gone the sweet aromas that made it wonderful to be poor

 

Smells of burning fields and fresh plowed ground

Burning hickory, boiling water, killing hogs and stewing lard

Now only the odor of cutgrass, wild onions and wild garlic abound

Mixed with the smell of primrose and sweet shrub permeate the yard

 

Sugar Ridge, home sweet home of the Hoppers

JM, Leecie, Bobby, Diane, David, and Glenn

The home place burned reduced to a pile of bricks, ashes, and copper

No one has lived there since death, marriage, and life caused the end

 

“Welcome Home to Sugar Ridge” a saying started by dad told to mom

For her constant plea to leave God forsaken Perry County and return home

No satire today for Sugar Ridge in its grandeur and magnificence today

It is a reminder of family, peace, and serenity regardless of where you roam

 

Thank you God for giving the Hoppers Sugar Ridge and love

As we enjoy the beauty of the good Earth, we call Sugar Ridge today

It is nothing compared to the joy, comfort, and hope from above

Sugar Ridge is a reminder where there is a will there is a way, Your Way

 

 

 

 

Bobby E. Hopper

April 9, 2021

“Dad’s Birthday”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sin Will Do It Every Time

Several years ago, I received a card that informed me that I won one of several gifts.  The gifts included a brand-new ford Bronco, a big screen TV, $2000 cash, or a two-week vacation on the Caribbean.  All I had to do was call a toll-free number to receive my new gift.  So, I did.

You will never guess what happened!  I won!  I gave them the number on the card and the voice on the other end said, “Congratulations Mr. Hopper, you won the New Ford Bronco.”  He wanted to know my name and address and the information was in the mail.  It would be the information on the Bronco.  He wanted to know the nearest airport where he could send tickets for my wife and me to exotic Las Vegas and be part of giant celebration they were doing in my honor.

All kinds of visions danced in my head.  I had never won anything.  I needed a car.  I could not believe that Bobby’s ship finally came.  I said, “To heck with that rich uncle and his box of money.”  I had a new Bronco.

All the excitement was the best thing that could have happened to the Hopper family.  Then, the voice on the other end of the line asked, “Mr. Hopper are you acquainted with New Lifestyle vitamins?”  He said the gifts were part of a promotional for the vitamins.  He said that it would be great if I actually used them.  I did not know about them, so he asked if I would purchase some.  Me being the man of integrity I am, I decided that I would buy some.  I asked him how many I needed to buy.  He said a year’s supply.  I said okay, how much?  He said $650.  That was a lot of money for me working for minimum wage at the University of Montevallo.  To tell you the truth it was more than I made in a month.  I weighed the cost and said $650 is a small price to pay for a brand-New Ford Bronco.  I gave him my master card number and he said that he would send me a 30mm camera to take the family’s picture to send him to him to use in the promotional.

Before the camera and vitamins arrived, the voice from Las Vegas called.  The charming and persuading voice on the other end said that since I won the New Ford Bronco, the committee wanted me to purchase another year’s supply.  I smelled a rat.  Suddenly I had long ears and went Hee Haw.  I told that charming voice on the other end a flat and very less charming no.  Shortly I received my cheap 30mm camera, a year’s supply of vitamins, a book of coupons for all the film I would ever need for the camera, and an envelope.  I thought I finally got the plane tickets to fly to Las Vegas.  What I got was two tickets to the Caribbean.

I called Las Vegas and the representative told me in order to be eligible for the Bronco I would have to buy more vitamins.  I was not about to buy any more.  Suddenly, I had this sick feeling.  They snookered me.  I bought a bill of goods and an idea for $650, but I did have two cruise tickets.  I contacted a travel agent only to find that they were not worth very much.  They were actually a two for one cruise.  I never wanted to go on the cruise anyway.  I wanted my Bronco.

I called Las Vegas and told them I did not want the vitamins.  They were not any good and I wanted to do an Elvis and “Return to sender.”  They told me they could not accept the vitamins back for fear of tampering.  They did tell me I could exchange my cruise for another gift.  I told them they could exchange it for a Bronco, but I settled for a $650 answering machine.

Not long after this film-flam, I read an article in the Area Magazine, the rural electric cooperative mail-out.  They told of several people who had been snookered.  The article said beware, but they already got me.  The article said to contact the better business bureau or state attorney general. 

I called Las Vegas again.  This fat boy from Alabama acted like Slim from South Alabama in the Jim Croce song.  I called to get my money back or I was calling the better business bureau and the Alabama Attorney General.  I got $190 dollars back, an answering machine, a 30 mm camera, coupons for film, and vitamins.  I never got the Bronco, but I did learn some valuable lessons.

 

Romans 7: 14-17.  For we know that the law is spiritual: but I am carnal, sold under sin.   For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I.   If then I do that which I would not, I consent unto the law that it is good.  Now then it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me.

 

Paul says that he was sold on sin.  That means that he was sold an idea, but he got something he really did not want.  I know the feeling Brother Paul.

 

That Must Have Been 20 Years Ago

 

I looked up on the wall of the office one morning and made a startling discovery.  I have been in the ministry over thirty years.  The date on my Certificate of License is dated 27^th day of February 1983.

Moments earlier, I read an article in the Cooperative Farming News, From Pastor to Pasture: That Must have Been 20 years Ago!  Glenn Crumpler, author of the article said he heard a family member say of an event, “That must have been 20 years ago.”  He said that when as a kid he could not imagine how someone could remember something that happened twenty years earlier.  Ironically, he said that happened 45 years ago.  Life is short.

Thirty-one years ago, I would hear preachers say that they had been in the ministry 20, 25, 30, and 40 years.  I remember thinking that is a long time and that I wish I could be in ministry that long. Well, I is there!  That’s not correct subject-verb relationship, but it is true.  Time does fly.  Life is only a vapor!

Ministry has made significant changes in the last thirty years.  When I was pastor at Gallion, a person from the community came to church for the first time in twenty-five years.  After the morning service he told me that church had changed some much since his last visit.  He said he thought he had been to a nightclub instead of a church.  I looked puzzled at him.  He said that the music of the worship service and the humor in my sermon were like that of a comedy club.

I understand his rationale.  The last Christian youth concert I attended I commented that when I was a teenager momma did not allow us to attend rock and roll events at school and now we have them at churches.

Speaking of changes, one night at an Association event, someone asked if she might make a suggestion.  We are always open to suggestions because as Association Ministry Directors, Pam, and I would always evaluate our events.  This person suggested to us that we not  schedule association events that interfere with sporting events.  This question happens more often that you might think.  One time before, I was scolded by a member of one of our churches for having an event during Spring Break.  Bethel Baptist Association ministered in six different school districts, which at that time did not observe spring break at the same time.

Back to the sporting conflict or may I say spiritual conflict.  I learned in thirty plus years of ministry as a pastor, that any event the church schedules conflicts with some activity outside the church.  I assured the questioner that we do our best to dodge as many possible conflicts as we can.  We would never have any ministry events if we tried to dodge conflicts.

My concern here is when did a sporting exercise for a child take precedence over spiritual training?  A majority of student athletes will never use their sporting exercises in the professional arena, yet most parents spend more money and time at the ball field than in studies and time for God. 

When did our communities become consumed with sports and recreation?  I played football, baseball, basketball, and volleyball while growing up.  My dad loved sports and enjoying watching my brothers and me play ball.  Dad taught us that it was a game and that work and chores around home and school came before sports.  Sports were extracurricular events.

I have walked home, around seven miles, after practice to slop pigs and load firewood many times.  I have missed games because dad and mom were at work and I did not have a way to go.

Coaches, schools, and clubs would never allow practice or games to interfere with church events.  Coaches would always allow players to leave early if there was a revival or church event that an athlete needed to attend.  This is not the case today.

The issue at the association event was not with the interference with the athlete playing an event, but with priorities.  I am burdened that parents do not see spiritual development as more essential than worldly development.  I want to weep when I see dads taking their boys hunting or fishing instead of to worship on Sundays.  My dad was a lost man, but he prohibited us to go hunting or fishing on Sundays.  Dad taught priorities.

Before I became a pastor, I volunteered to attend an association brotherhood training event.  The event was on a holiday, but because I worked rotation at the cement plant, I was not off and was scheduled midnights.

My midnight shift allowed me to attend the workshop and not miss work.  Before leaving to attend the workshop, I received a call from the plant that the second shift man did not show and I needed to come in four hours early, six o’clock pm.  I told the second shift foreman that I could not come in early.  He wanted an excuse.  I said that I had committed to our church brotherhood director that I would attend the workshop and I was taught to keep my commitments.  He reminded me that that I was turning down double time and half pay because I was being called out on a holiday.  I reminded him that my commitment was greater than the pay.  I am not bragging, but speaking of commitment and priorities.

Association Ministry Directors, Pam, and I had a yearly planning day where we try to avoid conflict.  We publish this calendar as early as possible where Church Executive Lay Members can share them with their churches.  Conflict is inevitable, commitment is inconvenient, and choice is a matter of priorities.

Not long ago someone inquired of my commitment.  I quoted sports writer and poet, Grantland Rice’s poem “Alumnus Football”:

For when the one great Scorer comes

To mark against your name,

He writes -not that you won or lost-

But how you played the game.

For I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day (II Timothy 1:12b KJV).