Over My Head

If you are like me, sometimes things are over my head I remember a colleague calling me about some theological question. I was clueless when he asked me what I thought. I sat for a moment trying to figure out the theological term. Not wanting him to think I was ignorant I asked, “What do you think about it?”

As he told his position on this theological query, I finally understood what theological principle and knew it by a simpler terminology. We conversed for several minutes, and he thanked me for my input. He never realized that he had bumfuzzled me.

I must confess. I have pulled this insane method on many occasions. Years ago before I became a minister, my home church was discussing Communion. I had no clue what Communion was, so I listened trying to decipher what the heck was Communion. My feeble mind thought about the Hippie movement and their communes. Then I thought that it must be something about the community.

Finally, there was talk about break and wine or for Baptist, grape juice. Then something was said about white tablecloths, the table in front of the pulpit, and deacons wearing suits. Walaa, the light bulb in my mind came on. They were talking about the Lord’s Supper. I often wondered why the table in front of the pulpit had engraved, “Do This In Remembrance of me.”

I have had the great honor and privilege of serving on committees and boards. Most of the time discussions were over my head. I lived by the Redneck rule: Be silent and listen and let people think you are stupid and speak to prove you are. The wise person remains silent.

People thought I was intelligent, but they just don’t know. I am smart enough to be quiet until the conversation turns to something I understand before I comment. I have been in conversations with University presidents, Alabama governors, members of congress, and many other venues.

People have told me that I am shallow. That is why I try to stay in shallow water. Last year Lisa and I went mullet fishing in the Lagoon in Gulf Shores, Alabama. The water is shallow and since Lisa cannot swim it made it challenging walking in the Lagoon and casting the net.

I held her hand and consoled her the entire time. We caught more sting rays than mullet, but we Had a great time and grilled some good mullet without getting in over our heads. That was until the second trip out. Lisa did not go. A second time I waded into the Lagoon and occasionally step in a hole submerging me. I went in over my head a couple of times but was able to stand up out of the water. I was glad Lisa was on dry land.

Rather than wading back to the cabin, I rode back in a boat. When we arrived back to the pier, I slid from the bow into the water. I was in way over my head. I can swim but having replaced both knees with titanium makes swimming difficult. As you can tell, I made it.

Like many reading this article, I have been over my head with debts, discussions, and decisions. Some of my decisions have put me in over my head and I needed to repent and change my life. By God’s grace I have survived being over my head.

As was Ezra in the Old Testament I had to realize that I am in over my head and seek God’s forgiveness and mercy.

 And said, O my God, I am ashamed and blush to lift up my face to thee, my God: for our iniquities are increased over our head, and our trespass is grown up unto the heavens. Ezra 9:6 KJV

I know that eventually I will be in over my head again. God knows I will too.

Are You Getting Smart With Me

Thirty-five years ago, I bought a 1986 Firebird Trans Am for my oldest son Andy. He was fifteen at the time and I would not let him drive it until he got a permit. It belonged to a friend’s daughter, and she offered to sell it to me at a wonderful price. She knew that Andy and his sister Angel loved the car.

I told my friend that I could not afford the car, but she had lowered the price for me against her brother’s advice. He was a car salesman. I told he that could possibly buy it but could not afford the insurance for it. I finally caved in and bought it and own it to this day.

The 86 Trans Am was not a hotrod, but it was a sports car of the eighties. Gas shortages and government control had unmuscled the muscle car. It was white with red pinstriping, T-tops, grey and red interior, aluminum alloy mags wheels, and pop-up headlights.

It was fun to drive. Andy was not a hotrodder. When the Honda Accord “grocery getters” became popular, he called the Trans Am a piece of junk. He eventually got him a “grocery getter.” I kept the Trans Am stored in my shed from 2000 until 2016. I would drive it when I would spend the weekends on the Sugar Ridge Farm. I was serving two hours south in Linden, Alabama.

I had replaced the motor and after several years had it rebuilt. It used so much oil that I did not have to change oil, but only a filter. Oil blew from the exhaust onto the rear bumper. My friend and mechanic friend Mack Tucker rebuilt it for me. It took him six years.

After the rebuild I asked my wife Lisa, who I married in 2018 if she wanted a Trans Am. I told her that it was rough. When we drove to Linden, Alabama to retrieve it, she fell in love with it and said it was beautiful. He loves to drive it with the T-tops out making it almost a convertible. Cool, stary nights are her favorite times to take a ride. I drive while she watches the stars.

One night while taking one of our romantic drives, we went to McDonalds for a burger and coke. The young man at the drive-thru window asked me, “Did you take the top out of the car?” He was young, pre-T-top days young.

I said, “I sure did.” He wanted to know how, and I took a few minutes to tell him about the removal T-tops. He thought it was the coolest thing. We get comments all the time about Trans Am. What Andy called “junk” is now a classic ride.

One night Lisa was driving, and I was enjoying the beautiful night lights until suddenly blue lights started flashing. A quarter mile from home, Chilton County’s finest County Police pulled us over. Granted the Trans Am is a police magnet because it looks fast. Thinking they had two hot, partying teenagers on a wild ride they stopped us.

I sure what they found embarrassed them. Two old grey-haired adults puddling home. They asked for driver’s license, registration, and insurance info. Then they asked, “Where you headed” while shining flashlights into the car.

We told them just over the hill less than a quarter mile. The problem was ALFA insurance had failed on several occasions to change the address from Maplesville, Alabama to Jemison, Alabama after we married and moved. They thought we were lying; perhaps they thought we took the car from the teenagers. Finally, after several other comments, they said we pulled you over for driving with only one headlight. I said the headlight must have a bad connection. I started out of the car to the surprise of the officer on my side. He witnesses just how difficult it is for an old man with titanium knees to exit a Trans Am. I bumped the headlight, and it came on. They let us go.

Most of the time when I am pulled over by the police they first thing they ask is where are you going. Now, when I answer I do not know if it is my looks or tone of my voice they ask, “Are getting smart with me?”

The two that pulled Lisa and me over, did not ask me that the of one-eyed Trans Am but I sure they thought my answers were smart-alecky. We answered as sincerely and honestly as we could.

One time I thanked an officer who pulled me over for speeding. He thought I was smart with him when I thanked him for stopping me and reminding me to slow down. And I thanked him because I knew that officers never know what or whom they are confronting. They have a thankless vocation. What makes all this funny was I was a Chaplain for the Linden Police Department until I retired in 2018.

Next time I get pulled over and they ask are you getting smart with me I am going to reply, “No officer I don’t know if I can get down on your level.” Now that would be smart-alecky.

Some words of Jesus may be construed as being smart-alecky.

And Jesus said unto him, Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head. Luke 9:28 KJV

Jesus; addressing Pilot’s question-

Jesus answered him, Sayest thou this thing of thyself, or did others tell it thee of me? John 18:34 KJV

 

 

 

The Man in the Middle Lives

Today as we celebrate Veteran's Day in the United States, I want to pay tribute to our Veterans. My grand paw Chapman was Veteran of WWI. My Uncle James Hopper was Veteran of WWII (Pacific), Dad was (North Africa and Italy), my uncle J.P. Waldrop and Gerald Chapman were Veterans of Korea. My wife Lisa is a Veteran.

WWII veterans are rapidly disappearing. Veterans are what makes America great. Below is a poem I penned in honor of the men that fought alongside of dad. I hope you read it in honor of those that have now passed and pay tribute on this day to those that are celebrating today.

Appearing as a dark fog drifting from hole to hole

Death, devastation, and destruction shrouded

The sacred ground where demonic fiends

Methodically pierced the hearts of the mutilated

 

Silent are loud bombs, rattling guns, exploding grenades as

Aromas of sulfur, blood, and guts saturate the air along with

Coalescing cries of pain, pleas for help, and begging God

Become quiet as the grim reaper surveys the carnage

 

Enthusiastic agents of death with spikes of demise

See three in another death pit to add to their trophies

Two disfigured youth had given the ultimate sacrifice as

Death laughed when his urchins penetrated their silent hearts

 

One urchin twisted his lethal tool deep into victim’s heart

As his partner made a noxious jab in the other victim’s heart

Shielded by the prayers of a mother on her knees and far away

Her son lies motionless beneath two that died to set people free

 

Petrified, the son deciphered enemy idiom concerning his plight

With devious confidence, the urchin replies the third one is ours

Blinded buoyancy does not allow them to see the young man’s verve

Death cannot and will not eradicate a mother’s prayer and true life

 

Anonymous and gone are the two who shielded the man in the middle

Eternal are the praying mother and the son whom she loved

Always present are the agents of evil seeking to kill and destroy

A praying nation will continue to bolster the red, white, and blue

 

The man in the middle left a legacy behind through his children

Teaching them to be responsible citizens for freedom is not free

 

Bobby E. Hopper

 

My daddy was the man in the middle.  Private Mitchell Clark Hopper fought under General Patton in North Africa and Italy.  Somewhere in Italy dad lay beneath two dead soldiers in a foxhole.  German machinegun fire ripped open his chest and abdomen.  He pulled dead soldiers together and two German soldiers pierced the fallen soldiers’ hearts.  With a limited knowledge of the German language, he heard them say, “What about the one in the middle?”  “He’s dead.”

Receiving official word that dad was killed in action, Granny Hopper said, “No.  He is alive. I am praying for him.”

Never Quit

Not too long ago a dilemma got my attention. It was a wad of string. The easy thing would have been to toss it in the burn pile, but not me. I saw a challenge. I decided to unravel it.

For the next few minutes, I unraveled the string. Some knots were tight, some were multiple, and some were downright hard, but I worked until I had an unraveled string that I rolled on a spool to use again. My wife Lisa will challenge, “You ain’t going to quit until you get it are you?” She is right. It is not my nature to quit but I am tempted to often quit.

One of the largest temptations to quit was school. I love to learn and solve problems but hated school. As started in an earlier article, I would run away from school. I tell people that I started school in 1959 and finally graduated in 2002. Schools included Beloit, Illinois kindergarten, elementary, Jemison, Alabama elementary through high school, University of Montevallo, New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, and finally Beeson Divinity School Samford University in Birmingham. If you throw Bessemer Technical, Bessemer, Alabama, and Howard Extension in Birmingham, that is a lot of school for someone that wanted to quit.

Every Monday all four years at the University of Montevallo, four at New Orleans, and three at Beeson I wanted to quit. Each Monday I found myself in class.

In the eighth grade, a football coach encouraged me to play football. He said I had the size to be a good player. I decided to try it. Having missed two weeks of practice, my teammates decided to catch me up. There was no junior high team, so I practiced with the varsity line. They tried to kill me. I was so sore the next morning that my mamma had to dress me, feed me, and force me to attend school. There was no way to practice so I QUIT!

Another coach who worked with the junior high encouraged me to came back. He was aware of what happened. I rejoined the team. I learned a valuable lesson. I promised that I would never quit something that I started. I may stop and sit it down but will pick it up and try again.

While enroute to church, I tried to button the cuff of my dress shirt. Using my left hand to button the right cuff was a little difficult. The laundry starched the shirt and somehow the buttonholes of the cuff were closed tight. My right hand had a very difficult time trying to button the left cuff. Arthritis did not help any either.

While driving Lisa noticed my difficulty and said, “I will button them when we get to church.” I kept trying, stopping for a few minutes, then tackling the tiny buttonhole again. I have a sneaky suspicion that the cuff buttonholes are smaller on the left.

I have found that in life more people encourage me to quit than those that encourage us to continue. When I began the University of Montevallo at age twenty-nine, married with two small children, and no finances, well-meaning family, friends, and folks said I would quit. As I said, I wanted too. God placed people in my journey that said I could.

My Christian faith is one that says, “Never say quit.” That is something that former University of Alabama quarterback Steadman Shealy said in his book Never Say Quit. In the spring of 1978, his football career was thought to be over, but Steadman prayed, sacrificed, worked hard, and demonstrated great faith overcame knee surgery and severe infection to lead the 1978 Alabama football team to a national championship followed by another in 1979.

Another Alabama great, quarterback Jay Barker says, “First of all, I just want to think my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, because I’ve had so many criticisms, and the Lord says in the bible, ‘If you just humble yourself therefore under His mighty hand, he will lift you up In Due Time,’ and this has been due time for me.” Due Time: The struggles and triumphs of Alabama quarterback.

These are two of countless others that have faced life’s struggles and through faith refused to quit. The main person in the Bible that did not quit was Jesus Christ, God in the flesh.

Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath began a good work in you, will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ. Philippians 1:6 KJV

And let us not be weary in well doing for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. Galatians 6:9 KJV