“Do you know everybody around here?”
On a recent Sunday after church, my daughter Laura and I went to my favorite restaurant-gift shop for lunch as we often do. As we entered through the merchandise area two clerks greeted me by name and I replied in kind. A new hostess on duty observed as I greeted the cashier. As the hostess was deciding where to seat us, two waitresses called out a “hi” as they passed by serving their tables. The new hostess seemed surprised by the familiarity. It reminded me of a time when my grandchildren were small and I had taken them to McDonald’s for a “happy meal.” We were seated at a table near the entrance where hungry customers were coming and going. A number of them greeted me by name. Finally, my ten-yearold grandson Josh could stand it no longer. With wide eyes, he turned to me and asked, “Podder, do you know everybody around here?” Years later Effie and I were making our tenth and final mission trip to Sabadell, Spain. We had taken our seventeen-year-old granddaughter Lynsey to share in the experience. One afternoon the three of us were walking through a shopping area looking at all the merchandise in the store windows. The sidewalk was wide and a sandwich shop had moved a few tables out near the street. I had not noticed anyone seated there, but suddenly a voice rang out, “Mr. Lee, Mr. Lee.” As I turned toward the table, I noticed Lynsey rolling her eyes as if to say, “Even in Spain.” She had been present at McDonald’s that day years before when Josh had asked his question. It had become a family joke. Now in a city of three hundred thousand, separated from Hartselle by six time zones someone was calling my name. To Lynsey it was strange, but to me, it was an affirmation of our ministry with the people. Over fifteen years we had worshipped with them. We had visited in their homes. We had listened to their stories and encouraged them in their faith. Relationships had been established, many of which endure today. Early in my ministry as a pastor, I wanted to achieve position, power, and recognition for my preaching. But over the years I began to see the goals of genuine ministry much more clearly. Those things do not last. They fade with time. But other things endure.
Last week a lady called me to ask if I remembered the signifi-cance of the day. As I hesitated, she reminded me I had performed her wedding ceremony fifty-five years ago. She wanted to thank me for the encouragement and guidance given to a young couple when they had sought my counsel. I meet monthly with someone who responded to faith over fifty years ago and who now works at disciplining others. Along the way I often meet those whose lives have been touched in ways I did not understand at the time. This morning at breakfast I became acquainted with two new friends who read my column and told me of their appreciation for them. Many of you do the same. I may never know your name, but I thank you. You minister to me. You keep me going when it would be easy to retire. After sixty-four years of Christian service the things that I treasure most are relationships established along the way. Thank You!
