Saturday, June 21, 2014

The Trip, part 3: the War

“…a time for war, and a time for peace” –Eccl. 3:8 As we left Mayberry whistling the “Fishing Hole” song, our tune changed to “Dixie” as we ventured into Virginia. The second phase of the trip would be a focus on the amazing struggle that took place in our country over 150 years ago, the American Civil War. No state suffered more than Virginia. There were more crucial battles fought there than any other state in the Union. Winston Churchill commented in his famous book about the history of mankind, “Thus ended the great American Civil War, which must upon the whole be considered the noblest and least avoidable of all the great mass conflicts of which till then there was record.” Maybe it wasn’t avoidable and maybe it was noble, but I think one word describes the war best: terrible. Those of you who know me know I’m a history fanatic. History was ingrained in the four Staples boys at an early age. On the many trips we took from Texas to Georgia, where my parents were born, we stopped at a lot of battle sites. Most significant was the Battle in Vicksburg, Mississippi. It was the half way point on our trip and we always spent the night at the Holiday Inn in town. We visited the Vicksburg Military Park, the memorial to the twenty thousand Americans, north and south, who gave their lives for our country. It seemed new every time we visited. I would have studied toward a history degree at Baylor, if the Lord had so led. Instead, I took as many elective hours in history as I could. I loved it, especially a course on the civil war. For my freshman English course, I wrote my huge compositional paper about “Texas in the Confederacy.” I made a good grade and loved the research, but my professor commented, “You might have written about a famous English author, like everyone else.” Baylor just happens to have the largest collection of Texas history documents in the world. I wasn’t about to pass that up and this paper was a good excuse to delve into the research! So, we set off to conquer Virginia. We visited Appomattox, the court house where Lee surrendered the largest army in the Confederacy to U.S. Grant; we spent time in Richmond, the Confederate Capital, touring the White House of the Confederacy and the Museum of the Confederacy; we toured the battlefield at Fredericksburg and stood on the famous “sunken road,” and we walked the battlefield of Manassas, the first major battle of the war. We saw sites and places I had only seen in pictures. We stood where soldiers had died: fathers, husbands, sons that had given their lives for our country. But, the experience that touched us the most was the most unlikely. We were on our way north to Manassas when we came upon a simple sign that read “Stonewall Jackson’s Shrine.” We’d been passing a lot of historical signs, but this one tugged us to pull off and explore. We made the short drive to the site where Stonewall Jackson had died from the wounds he received at the battle of Chancellorsville. The site wasn’t anything special but the tour guide who explained the story brought it to life. Jackson died as his wife and newborn son lay at his side. Right before he died he said, "It is the Lord's Day; my wish is fulfilled. I have always desired to die on Sunday." He was a Christian and rejoiced in life with Christ. As we heard the park ranger tell the story, it all became real. All the statistics and battle plans we had seen boiled down to a family suffering through death. We were touched. And we were disgusted with war. Perhaps the war was chivalrous and noble and gallant. But the war was horrible, and sad and terrible as well. People died. People were maimed and scarred physically and emotionally. Our nation survived and we are now truly united. The late historian Shelby Foote noted that before the Civil War, Americans used to say, "The United States are...," and after the War, the phrase transmogrified to "The United States is...". A terrible price was paid but here we are, walking in freedom. We turned north again to Washington D.C. where we would spend the next three days. There we would visit most of the landmarks of our “nation’s cap-i-tall” (as Forrest Gump would say). We quit whistling Dixie… …and started whistling Yankee Doodle. By Eric Joseph Staples ©

Sunday, June 15, 2014

My Dad's Legacy

"Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation” –Joel 1:3 I sure do miss my Dad today. He would have been ninety-five years old on this Father’s day. He died in 1988 but he never passed away. He will never pass away. He will always live in my heart, the hearts of my brothers, in the hearts of my kids and in the hearts of their kids. He legacy will go on and on. A legacy of faith. As was true of most of the early Staples’ family, he loved God and was dedicated to the Methodist church. The Methodist church in Roopville, Georgia still stands today. I have copies of his Sunday school notes that he used as he taught class for many, many years. He was far from perfect, but his faith grew more and more as he grew older. His faith mattered and he passed it on. A legacy of integrity. Honesty mattered to my dad. He put coins in the parking meters and he paid all of his taxes. “I have no problem paying taxes,” he would say, “It’s just what every man should do.” Having a good name made a difference to him and he elevated honesty and truth as he dealt with people. He was the same man in private as he was in public. As his son, I saw him lose patience and get angry frequently, but he knew how to say “I’m sorry” and I watched him settle differences quite often. A legacy of simplicity. My dad was absolutely at his best with those who had the least. He could mingle with the “high-falutin” physicians, but enjoyed the blue-collared folks the most. My dad kept things uncomplicated. His favorite ice cream was Blue Bell Vanilla. Boring maybe, but it was all he needed. He never forgot his simple Georgia roots. Though, as a physician, he had the choice to be proud, he preferred not to elevate himself above others. He was humble. As a goofy teenager, I was often embarrassed by his faded jeans and suspenders. I sometimes wanted a “cool” dad. But I came to realize that my dad was more than cool: he was awesome. A legacy of hard work. My dad didn’t mind breaking a sweat while doing a long project. After he retired, I remember trying to keep up with him as he tended to his garden in the back yard. He could work me into the ground. I remember appealing to my dad one Sunday afternoon. I was a freshman in high school and after watching football on TV, I had run out of time to mow the yard. It was 5:00pm and I needed to be at a Young Life event at 5:30. “Dad, I won’t have time to cut the grass. I’ll do it later in the week,” I said. “Well, you should have done it earlier today. I guess you’ll have to miss youth group,” he said. “I can mow it later this week,” I appealed. “Nope, it needs to be today,” he replied. I wasn’t happy about it. After all, I was going to youth group- the Christian thing to do. But he wouldn’t budge. I mowed the yard and learned that keeping a promise trumped any Bible study. My dad was an awesome man. I only hope to imitate a little of his character and life. He loved my mother, Mildred, so, so much. And he loved and nurtured his four sons with everything he possessed. I am honored to have had Pelham Porter Staples Jr. as my father and I will always be thankful that I had thirty-one years with him. I too am thankful for his legacy branded into the Staples family. Thank you Lord for a my dad and for his powerful, simple life… …and for his beautiful faded jeans and suspenders. By Eric Joseph Staples ©

Monday, June 9, 2014

The Trip, part 2: Mayberry

“For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving…”1 Timothy 4:4 With our plans all settled and our tank full of gas, we prepared to set off on our adventure. But first we enjoyed some excellent time with Eric and his wife Jennifer, in Nashville. They have been married seven months now and are a beautiful couple, inside and out. After that, we headed east. The first stop of the trip would be a walk back into the world of Andy Griffith. In between Nashville and Virginia, we drove a bit off the main highway to extreme northern North Carolina. We stopped in Mt. Airy, North Carolina to pay a visit to Andy Griffith’s hometown. It was the backdrop and storyline to Mayberry on the Andy Griffith show. The Andy Griffith show is simply a marvel of the entertainment world. It originally aired more than 50 years ago, but is still broadcast today on multiple television stations. Thousands and thousands of television shows have come and gone, but the Andy Griffith show continues to capture the hearts of America. Why? Like any “legend”, it had multiple ingredients that made it special: it was produced by then star Danny Thomas, its cast was an all-star team of experienced actors, it had a tremendous group of writers, and it appealed (and still does) to the best values of America. The show taught us that everyone is important, whether they’re the sheriff or the town drunk. The same is true of each of us. God does not create junk. Without exception, He creates people of worth and use. Each one of us do best when we’re true to who God created us to be. Like someone once said, “Don’t live out someone else’s dream for your life.” Be who you are and let God use you. Andy Griffith's hometown is truly a "Mayberry." Virtually the whole town has been transformed to look like Mayberry did in the TV show. Of course, some of the places were originals, like "The Snappy Lunch" known for it’s great pork chop sandwich. Andy based most people and places in the show on those from his hometown. I can picture Andy sitting in on the writing sessions, giving his suggestions on ways to make the show authentic. Apparently, they needed his southern “flare.” Of the producers for the show, Andy was the only one from the south. While Danny Thomas, the original producer, hailed from Toledo, Sheldon Leonard, who ran the show, was born in NYC. Another Griffith Show producer, veteran comedy writer-director Aaron Ruben, was a Chicago native. By the way, while working on the series, Ruben gave young Ron Howard an 8mm movie camera that piqued Howard's interest in cinematography, probably one of a number of things that fueled his move into directing. In Mt. Airy, there's a Bluebird Diner, Wally's Service Station, Floyd's Barber Shop, and a replica of the Mayberry courthouse that you can go inside. You can take a tour of the town in a sheriff's car just like the one from the show. If you're lucky, you'll get D.C. as your driver. He was a childhood friend of Andy's and adds a special touch to your tour. We didn’t take the tour, but we drove through most of the town. We did take the time to visit the Andy Griffith museum. There were so many memories from the show. You leave with a really good feeling, like you've gone back in time to the 'good ole days'. At the end of the day, we continued our drive to Virginia, but not until we soaked in Mayberry and the simplicity of a peaceful and gentle life. After all, that’s what God’s intends for us everyday. Life will always have its problems, but we can find comfort knowing that a loving God has it all covered. We left Mt. Airy smiling, relaxed… …and whistling the Mayberry “fishing hole” song. By Eric Joseph Staples ©

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

The Trip, part 1: the Beginning

“And He said to them, ‘Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while…’” -Mark 6:31 We just returned from a marvelous ten-day, nearly three thousand mile trip through Tennessee, North Carolina, Virginia, Washington D.C., Pennsylvania, and West Virginia. It had been a trip in the making for a long time. Joining us were our favorite traveling buddies, Holly (Jeanie’s sister) and her husband Trent Hallum. But the trip never would have happened if I had not started. Hum. That may seem obvious, but many a trip never happens because it never begins. The beginning of any worthy journey in life- marriage, family, or whatever-needs a good beginning. The credit goes to my sweet Jeanie who dreamed up the idea years ago. “Instead of going to the beach with the family (which we love and will visit in August), we ought to take a trip to the battlefields and DC.” “Ought to’s” can pile up if we’re not careful. Like good intentions, “ought to’s” take us nowhere. John Dewey said, “One lives with so many bad deeds on one's conscience and so many good intentions in one's heart.” The more famous quote describes “the road to hell being paved with good intentions.” I’m not sure what that means exactly as the road to heaven and hell has nothing to do with intentions, but a choice to let Jesus rule or not rule. But one thing is for certain in life: if we never act on our convictions and intentions, we’ll stay stuck. If we act, then we move and then we go. This particular “ought to” developed into a “we’re going.” But not without initial reservations. There are always obstacles to maneuver in any journey. Concern #1: “What about the rest of the family? How will they get along without us?” Answer: “They’ll get along just fine- we’re not needed as much as we think we are –ha!” Concern #2: “What about our responsibilities at work?” Answer: “There are incredible teachers and mentors and employees that will step in to fill the gap (and they did- thank you!)” Concern #3: “What about all the unknowns?” Answer: “What about them? Let’s act on what we know and not react to fear. We all need a break and vacation. Let’s trust the Lord to cover the bases.” The obstacles were cleared (as far as we knew), we set a date and made all the necessary reservations. We quickly discovered that there would be a pretty significant price to pay for the trip. A lot of the historical sites we would visit were free, but lodging and food were not. We added up the projected mileage for the trip and considered flying. But we decided that, while flying would be expedient, we would miss all of the sites along the way. Our goal for the trip was to slow down and enjoy the journey. Every trip comes with a price. We would have to give up time and money to make it happen, but it would be worth every penny. So, with all the scheduling conformed, we began the trip. The four of us are very close and the time traveling in the car would be as valuable as the time seeing the sites. Someone defined true success as “the ability to enjoy the journey on the way to the destination.” We were determined to not be determined to just see the sites. I guess you could say we wanted to “chill.” And so the trip began, the good intention became reality and we hit the road. The journey began… …and the odometer would get a workout! By Eric Joseph Staples ©