Nanafalia and Common Sense

On Tuesday mornings for several years the local radio station called me to do a live report from Bethel Baptist Association.   Moody Radio deejays John Rogers and Martin Houston (Former University of Alabama running back) talked about common sense or the lack thereof.  I really feel that people are losing the ability to have common sense.   

For instance, did you hear about the man who visited a psychiatrist?   He told the doctor that he was stressed and could not sleep.  After a few questions, the doctor suggested that the man take a few weeks' vacation.  The man said that he and his family had just returned from two weeks in the Bahamas.

The doctor then suggested that the man might need to buy a new automobile or truck.  The man responded by saying he just bought a new sports Mercedes convertible.  The doctor suggested that he might change locations and build a new house.  The man said I just built a million-dollar house at the country club.

The psychiatrist was bewildered because the man had everything a person could have.  The psychiatrist asked, “If you have and do all these things, why are you so stressed?”  The man replied, “I make only $250 dollars a week.”

Common sense says that one cannot spend more than one makes.  Unfortunately, we as a nation do the opposite and are part of an unbelievable national debt.  We are a credit card society that wants it now.

After the radio program, I ventured to an event at Judson College.  The guest was Dr. Timothy George, Dean of the Beeson School of Divinity at Samford University.  I had Dr. George for a class when I attended Beeson.  He asked where I was serving, and I told him Bethel Baptist Association.  For several years I was the only Beeson graduate serving as a Director of Missions.  Beeson, or should I say, a few professors were proud of that.

Dr. George asked where Bethel is saying that the last time we talked, he said you were near Calera.  Being we were in the auditorium of Judson College in Marion I thought that telling him southwest of here would do.  He responded, “Is that near Tuscaloosa?”  I said that it was about 75 miles south of Tuscaloosa and a good bit north of Mobile on the Highway 43 corridor.  I realized that my commonsense approach to the very intellectual Dr. George was not communicating.  It is almost like the old saying, “You can’t get there from here.”  What throws people for a loop is I say Bethel Baptist Association and they automatically try to remember their Alabama history and geography realizing that Bethel is not one of the sixty-seven counties.

I felt like I was playing the “hot or cold” game with him.  Every time he would name a town he was way off base and I was trying get him closer.  He finally said, “Then, you are near Meridian, MS?”  I said that I was closer to Meridian than Tuscaloosa.

We broke for delicious dinner.  I cannot remember how the table conversation about Nanafalia came up, but a couple of pastors at my table said they did not know how to pronounce Nanafalia.  I said it was an Indian name.  All these men were of my generation so understood that “Injun” was what is the politically correct call Native American and not an owner of a service station or a motel. I told them that Nanafalia means long hill.  One of the preachers asked where it was.  I said on Alabama highway 10 between Sweet Water and Butler.  Most had a puzzled look.  I said Nanafalia is across the Tombigbee River from Ezell’s Famous Catfish Restaurant.

Someone said, “Then Ezell’s is in Nanafalia?”  I said do not make that mistake because it is in Lavacoa in Choctaw County next to the Nanafalia Bridge.

So, I have had a day of Common Sense, Intellectual Conversation, Political Correctness, and Politics.  The event at Judson was about God, the Church, and Politics.  I realized that politics and common sense go together like oil and water.  The event was good and helped me with my responsibility as Christian citizen.  I left the meeting realizing that Romans Chapter 13 and Acts Chapter 4 are not contrary to each other when dealing with powers ordained by God, but reminds the reader that God owns everything.  Common sense says that there are moral laws that govern society.  These moral laws come from God.  If government breaks moral laws, then we must obey God.

Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God . . . (Romans 13:1ff  KJV)

And they called them, and commanded them not to speak at all nor teach in the name of Jesus.  But Peter and John answered and said unto them, Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye . . . (Acts 4:18-19ff KJV)

Hoppers and Yankees

 In 2012, the extended Hopper family spent New Year’s Eve celebrating our Christmas.  This year it was my turn to host the extravaganza because there are five of us, we all take turns hosting Christmas. This year I decided to host it at our home in Chilton County rather than in Linden. 

There were a couple of reasons for the location change.  One is that we all have homes in the Chilton/Bibb county area even though one brother lives in Robertsdale and I in Linden.

Second, I did not know if Marengo County or the City of Linden could endure more than three Hoppers.  Third, my home/farm has enough room for frying fish, shrimp, and oysters, riding four wheelers, shooting fireworks, and parking cars.

It is hard to imagine that Mom and Dad started what has become a large extended family.  I watched in wonder as my nephew’s little boy Mason explored my backyard.  The wonder was not his exploration, but his importance.  Mason is the first male Hopper great grandchild.  He is not the first great grandchild or the first great grandchild male, but he is the first Hopper male.  As I held Mason in my arms, it was a defining moment.  The oldest male Hopper, holding the heir to the Hopper name.  A baby of the 1950’s was holding a new millennium baby.  The new replacing the old.  The thought of one who is in the final stages of his time is now holding the one who has yet to make a complete sentence.  What made the whole episode special was as I held Mason he wanted a drink of my root beer.  I gave him a sip and he confiscated my whole cup.  He teased me by giving it back only to want another sip.  As I put him down, he walked away with my root beer.

That is the way of life, new replacing the old.  With that thought, I can’t help but think of a humorous incident that happened on Tuesday before New Year Eve.

We had a rendezvous with friends from Llano, Texas at Gulf shores after Christmas.  Our rendezvous point was the Waffle House in Gulf Shores.  I don’t particularly care for the Gulf, but winter makes it nice.  It’s not too hot, the shore is deserted, and the restaurants are very available.

It is always terrific to see our friends, so we gathered at the tables beside the high bar.  For those who do not know, booths are not made for real men.  Every restaurant where we went in Gulf Shores, I requested a table.  I want to be conformable when I eat.  I usually eat at the high bar at Waffle House, but when with more than three friends, I try to eat at a table for collective talking.

While there, Waffle House began to fill with snowbirds, which are Yankees or people from “Up North.”  I do not know why, but for some reason people from “Up North” enjoy Southern hospitality, but they have never acquired any for themselves.

After enjoying a wonderful breakfast and catching up how everybody was doing and the adventures of traveling, I decided to pay the bill for breakfast.  I learned a long time ago in Union work that the meal to buy everyone is breakfast.  Dinner and supper are more expensive.

Everyone continued to share old times and drink coffee, water, or orange juice.  As I waited for the waitress, I noticed that a snowbird roosted in my sit.  Now mind you, I was not finished with my coffee.  The snowbird sat down between my son Aaron and our friend Ruby.  Mrs. Ruby, my dear friend from Llano, did not know that I had gone to pay the bill.  From the corner of her eye, she saw a glass of water sliding toward her plate.  She was startled when she turned to see a strange snowbird in my place.  To Aaron’s right, a female snowbird sat in an empty seat.  Another snowbird, with his hands on the back of the chair, stood over Aaron.  You talk about an awkward moment.  I have had some very interesting visits to the Waffle House, but his one takes the cake, or I guess you could say takes the waffle.  I am glad that Aaron is a gentle giant and has a soft spot for people “who don’t know no better” or there may have been an injured snowbird in the Waffle House.

As Aaron looked up at the snowbird, the snowbird asked if the seat was warm.  I know snowbirds come South to escape harsh winters, but taking a young man’s, and his dad’s, seat is RUDE.  Scaring an eighty-year-old woman from Llano is dim-witted.  The moral of the story is that there is always someone waiting to take your place whether you are finished or not.  If we live long enough we will see many more New Years.

 Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new (Second Corinthians 5:17 KJV).

. And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new (Revelation 21:5 KJV).

Since 2012 Mason has been joined by a brother Gavin, a cousin Clark, and a cousin coming in the spring named Jesse James Hopper.  Long live the Hoppers.  We do have cousins in Illinois and my brother David was born in Wisconsin.

TREES DANCING

 

The trees danced as old man winter blew his tune.

They rejoiced in the promise return of youthful summer in June.

 

The fall, like Adam and Eve, stripped them naked in the cold and rain.

But, promised to be beyond Solomon’s splendor in the spring.

 

That’s how it is with God and His care.

For the believer there is much to share.

 

When the chill and cold of trouble blow,

remember that Jesus said He must go

 

to prepare a place for believers to dwell

But, for those who reject that place is hell.

 

So we dance before a dark world so bare,

But we remember that we have “Good News” to share.

 

Just as the trees dance in the winter wind for the promise of June,

We as Christians dance for Jesus who will return soon.

 

The promise He has made is as sure as the seasons,

But he delays for many reasons.

 

Amidst the tribulation and trouble that come our way,

Remember Jesus said He would return on “That Day”.

 

Do not give up hope or refuse to believe,

just remember He’s coming when you see the leaves.