familiar face

1868 - 1950

Here's a young photo of my grandfather, Burruss Finlayson.  Gina took one look at this photo tonight and said, "You've got his eyebrows".  Yes, those are Finlayson eyebrows alright. She said, "You've got his nose".  I think mine is a little pugger than his..but yeah..I can see that.  She said, "You've got his curly hair".  I HAD his curly hair!

Studying this photograph of a grandfather I never met. I see so many common features that I see in the mirror, or see upon the features of my siblings.  It's amazing what is passed down from generation to generation well over a century.  What else was passed on in the genes?  If we could look back, spend a day with an ancestor, would we recognize other qualities in his or her daily life?

I have a connection to my father when I am working at his old workbench in my garage.  I've learned that my father's father enjoyed working in his shop after work too.  My dad could actually build things.  I primarily repair things that have been broken around the house.  Where my dad had skill to actually construct, I merely restore.  Even though my skills out there are very limited, I find piddling in the garage a quiet enjoyment - a connection.  I think it's something my grandfather passed down to his son and his son to me.  What else is back there that is also in me today?

One day our children's children will be looking at old photos of us.  Who is this fellow on the mantle, this young fellow who was my grandfather - my great grandfather?  What little will be left of us fifty to a hundred years from now.  Maybe just a name.  Maybe a day of birth and a day of death, an occupation, hopefully a story or two.  More than likely, not much more than that.  

Miss Florence

187-1903

My aunts and uncles referred to their Papa's first wife as 'Miss Florence'.  Mary Florence Brock Finlayson had one child together, Herbert Carlisle Finlayson, who died at the age of six resulting from a stomach obstruction.  Florence died of a cancer shortly after little Herbert's passing.


"I don't know much about the Brocks (Miss Florence's folks), except that they all were pretty girls and a nice Methodist family there in Cheraw."
-Jennie Llew Finlayson Guyton

Both Florence and their son are buried in the Finlayson section of the Old St. David's Church in Cheraw, SC.  They are buried next to the Burruss and Jennie Wait Finlayson family.  Her father Peter Haley Brock and mother Mary E. Lyles are also buried there.

I learned that at one time Peter Brock and son in-law Burruss Finlayson resided next to each other.  Both were dry goods merchants.

i doubt it

JUNE 1970

This photo may not seem like much to many.  You can't make out the faces or see what's going on, so I'll tell you.  Everyone's back is to the photo.   We were all having such a good time around the coffee table that evening that Uncle Pat heard the commotion and deemed it a Kodak moment. 

The Finlayson's (my dad's siblings) from Columbia, SC and Macon, GA had come for a visit.  This particular night we taught our Aunts Jennie Llew and Rutha how to play the card game 'I Doubt It".  I remember how Jennie Llew threw herself into the card game.  To be good at the game you have to be good at bluffing (LYING).  Jennie Llew took a liking to the game and it was so much fun watching and listening to her bluff and challenge bluffs.  Our aunts made loud "AhhhhWoooo!" and "MERCY" exclamations as lies were exposed.  These two Carolina southern belles scolded each other and us for lying like that and acting ever so innocent when they were caught committing the same sin.  I remember our being crowded around that little round table playing and laughing at and with one another.

I know it won't mean much to most, but it was a good moment and I'm glad Pat had the camera.

doors beyond doors

I've been distracted by life lately.  Since the office closed I've been in limbo.  Life is so different now and I have yet to get in sync with this new phase, this new day.  There are things to do...and I do them.  I find leads and I pursue them.  I am merely going about life.  I don't really know what to write because I don't really know how to think about this time.

I've been pursuing opportunities but so far they all have been like mirages.  Every time I get nearer, it all evaporates.  I start all over again.  I know the economy is bad, countless other folk are struggling too.  I know that we only lose if we give up.  It's simply not an option to give up, I have to keep moving.  We each must have a plan, a compass to keep from wandering.

There was another door this week, but nothing was behind it...again. I'll find another door, be faithful while acquiring a little more patience. In my soul I know that one door is leading to another door.

Maybe I'll start posting more when I get solid footing in life.  In the meantime, I'll keep the faith and encourage you all to do the same.

letting go. leaning forward.

Well, the new health care reform laws finally forced our clinic under.  We are broke.  We could not hold out any longer. We had to let go of an old dream of ours.  I will not go into now because quite frankly I have told the heart breaking story time and time again.  Maybe later, but not at this minute, not in this post.  We closed August 31.  We packed up our stuff through out the month and tried to make a clean break of it.  It's not that easy, we are still trying to get old business behind us.  Nevertheless we let go of it.  We are not bitter or angry, we are letting go.

Throughout this ordeal I have experienced a weariness on every level, body, mind and soul.  I am glad August is behind us.  I look back at what was our business as one would look back on where a sunken ship had disappeared beneath the surface.  There is nothing back their.  There is nothing to look back to.  There is no comfort there.  There is only this small lifeboat and faith that God will bring us to shore.

He will.

We are survivors.  Throughout this ordeal God has graced us with a peace that we will be alright, just hang on and remain faithful.  Each of us have experienced times we've found ourselves lost in dire situations.  We can either fret and succumb to the delimma, or lean into Him and press on.  It all boils down to trusting in God - or not.  This is not my first hardship, but I hope I've become a wiser fellow by this time.  I'll confess that I have a checkered past of succumbing to fear.  I feel that I have grown a little, knowing this time that God always gives us sure footing if we only trust in Him. 

Throughout this ordeal, He's given me a peace and His gentle presence.  I have found joy in the thick of it.  Yes I am weary.  Yes I am tired.  But I don't have to rely on my own strength and understanding.  Opportunities come and fall through and that of course is disappointing but not essential.  I don't know about tomorrow, or what I will do.  I will just wake up and follow through with what comes my way.  I can't declair that I am confident in the future.  I just know that I am confident in God's faithfulness.  I want to come through this one bravely and faithful.

Thanks God.

am i interfering?

I was on the couch yesterday, well into a movie while occasionally filling in a crossword puzzle.  I woke up a about an hour before the rest of my family had and so I had been quietly entertaining myself.  I had heard a noise and saw my 9 year old daughter at the door.  She was holding a big bouncy ball.  I could only see the ball and not her face nor much of her torso.  She stood there quietly.  I looked back down at my puzzle.

I looked back down to fill in a word.   I soon felt something big and round and plastic at my head.  She had come over to where I lay.  I looked up and still only saw the ball instead of her face.  I said "Good morning".  She stood there for about a minute quietly as my eyes went back up toward the television.  She moved across the room and positioned herself and her big bouncy ball in between me and the set.

I asked her if she was wanting someone to play ball with her.  She said, "Am I interfering?"   I said "Not at all!"  Down went the puzzle and off went the television.  Mother joined us in the hallway as we rolled and threw the ball back and forth to one another.    We had a good time together yesterday morning.

considering the lilies

Tomorrow is unclear.  The future seems so dark and foreboding from here. Big change in the next few months.  We know it.  Gina and I have talked a lot about the future without any sure direction.  We've got decisions to make and new courses to plot into vast uncertainty.  Change is always scary, but always certainly a part of life.  I admit that I am not all that brave about it.  I know that being fearful will only make matters worse.  I have learned that God is good and that He takes care of His children.  Gina and I will embrace the inevitable and lean on Him to help us make the right decisions - count on Him to establish the path we choose.  There are old doors to close and new doors to venture through.  In times of decisions, in times of change, often all we have is our faith in our Lord and His firm promise.

"Commit your works to the LORD And your plans will be established."
-Proverbs 16:3

borrowed time

We all live on borrowed time.  Only God knows when it's time for each of us to go.

I remember a moment.  I remember an exact moment that I should've died.  I came over a hill on a rainy morning as a youth.  I wasn't being cautious.  I was young.  I was driving too fast for conditions after I topped the hill.  There was a car stopped directly in front of me.  I had no other alternative but to slam on my brake on a wet road.  The brakes locked and all I could do was brace myself for immediate impact. My car didn't slow - but miraculously stopped anyway.  I clearly remember what it felt like for the world to be coming at me with no way out.  The road turned to glass.

There was the car in front of me.  I should've rear ended it.  No impact.  No one hurt.  The day passed with me in it.

I know that I've lived on borrowed time ever since that day back in '78.  I know God has had a reason for me living as long as I have. I know I will continue to live as long as He has use of me down here. He has a purpose for me (and you).  In spite of my foolishness, He has carried me through.  There have been miracles throughout my life, but God takes care of us, sustains us, and always gives us what we need.

I've had friends who  have gone on before.  Lived a shorter lifespan than I have.  I don't know why they died and I lived.  It's an old question and only God knows.  I so appreciate His guidance and amazing grace.

We are all given a time to live and a time to die.  We just have to make the most of what we do have.  My life is far from perfect.  I am not a great achiever, but I do have a wealth beyond measure.  GOD LOVES ME!  I have a wife who loves me!  I have two wonderful daughters who love me!  I have not been the perfect son, husband and father, but I do have Love and Love has me.  The goodness of God and the love of family give great meaning and worth to living this life even in the most desperate of times.  Thank you Lord!  The Alpha and The Omega - The Beginning and The End.

i will live till I die
i will live and die in you
i will live and die for you
the meaning of life is to find you
the meaning of life is to know you
the meaning of life is to glorify you
with our fleeting days of borrowed time

the man in romance

Yes, I like the movie Somewhere in Time.  Guys like romance too, take my wife (please).  Just because manly-men aren't into the girly-girl romance stories - manly-men are all about romance.  Heck, even John Wayne himself was all over Maureen O'Hara in The Quiet Man.  The Duke said that The Quiet Man was among his personal favorite.  Most of Humphrey Bogarts greatest rolls had puckering in them.  Casablanca, need I say more?  This story isn't just about WWII and resisting fascism, it was about love and sacrifice.  No one was resisting kiss'n in Bogart's movies.  Also watch To Have and To Have Not with Bogart and Bacall.

Gone With The Wind is a great romance that manly-man Clark Gable as the dapper and dashing Rhett Butler.  Gable, by the way, had the most romantic lines in the film classic.

"Here's a soldier of the South who loves you, Scarlett. Wants to feel your arms around him, wants to carry the memory of your kisses into battle with him. Never mind about loving me, you're a woman sending a soldier to his death with a beautiful memory. Scarlett! Kiss me! Kiss me... once..."
-Rhett Butler

But that's not my favorite romantic movie of his.  I watched Clark Gable and Claudette Cobert in the romantic-comedy It Happened One Night.  I never tire seeing it.

Want to see some good romance movies?  Tender Mercies with Robert Duvall, Murphey's Romance with James Garner, Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail with Tom Hanks, Shop Around The Corner and It's A Wonderful Life with Jimmy Stewart.  Robin and Marian with Sean Connery.  Shadowlands with Anthony Hopkins. A lot of my movie favorites have a whole lot of lovin' goin' on.

I am not interested in what many consider romance to be.  I think the covers of most romance novels silly...those long haired - muscular pretty boys grasping their buxom beauties in their arms - ready to ravish them on the next page.  I'm really drawn toward the guy and gal, shoulder to shoulder, committed to each other, relying upon one another to get through each day, each struggle together.  I think of Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn pulling at the rope of The African Queen.
NOW THAT'S TRUE ROMANCE!

spuare peg amid round holes

Christian Brothers Coffee House 1979

Years ago dad used to get onto me every now and then about my not going to church.  I was a Christian mind you, but corporate worship somehow repelled me when I was younger.  I'd go every now and then because I had friends that went to church - but I just had a hard time going.  As a little kid I had to go.  The more I had to go, the more I didn't want to go.  My dad once told me that I had to go church until I was a certain age and then I could do what ever I wanted.  This wasn't the case.  He didn't like it when the day came that I didn't have to go and I didn't go.

I understand where he was coming from.  Scripture instructs parents to train a child in the way they should go.  So dad and mom were just doing their job as parents.  I just never enjoyed the programs, the lesson plans, and all the standing up and sitting down and standing up and sitting down that seemed to be the primary focus of corporate worship.

As a kid  I'd often sneak out and roam the hallways of the church.  I'd often go outside and play in the little church playground or roam around in the woods that surrounded the church.  I don't think my mom and dad ever knew what I was up to. 

Church would consist of congregational hymns, singing only first, second and last stanzas with all of the unbridled energy of a man building his own gallows.  This would usually be followed by a preacher who would get up and tell a few weak jokes followed by a sermon.  Don't get wrong, I didn't think anything was wrong with traditional church, I just never connected with it.

To this day scripture speaks with a clear voice.  I never understood why people would take a sentence that Jesus plainly spoke and feel as if they have to explain and expound upon the obvious.  I have learned from sermons, but most times, I prefer to just sit and read scriptures while the preacher expound and explain.

I liked the people of all the churches I've attended these 50+ years of my life.  I think it was mostly my problem.  To me church reminded me of school.  I couldn't stand Sunday school because it was SCHOOL.  Anyone that knows me probably knows that I had a horrific experience throughout public school.  I was wounded from school in my youth and yet had to spend part of every weekend in Sunday SCHOOL!  Hell, even during Summer I couldn't escape school.  Once you think you're out....THEY WOULD PULL YOU BACK IN!  There I'd be, sent to Vacation Bible School (I once escaped from VBS, but that's another story).

I didn't really start going to church regularly until I married Gina.  The reason I started to go was because the Holy Spirit compelled me to go.  He wanted me to go because I was now head of the household.  I found myself responsible for someone elses spiritual being - not just mine.  It was one of those things that happened that I knew was His will and not mine be done.  Okay God.

Even when I went to church, I went out of obedience to that directive.  I made some great friends there, but still church was church.  The folks there liked me and tried to fit me into the program, to assimilate my talents.  They tried getting me to lead traditional worship service and I tried to comply.  It was awkward.  They tried getting me to be youth director, but I am afraid I am a little too youthful to be a youth leader.  I had fun, but as you know now, I am not a Sunday school kind of guy.  The only way I fit in that fellowship was that I made friends there.  I loved them and miss them still.  I never fit in the program.  I always felt like a square peg.

Getting back to dad.  Back then, dad felt that I was substituting my coffeehouse fellowship at Christian Brothers 'Free House' (later Skylight Coffeehouse) for traditional corporate church fellowship.  Back in the day, church was so corporate that we all had to wear suits.  Dad and I used to go back and forth about it.  Funny how almost all of our disagreements were about church and spiritual matters.  Dad felt that I needed to be in church and that my coffeehouse fellowship had taken the place of real church.  I used to deny it over and over again.

I found out that dad was right about the coffeehouse being my church.  He thought it was a bad thing, but it was a good thing after all.  As I looked back on my early years, I realized that my brothers and sisters at that coffee house had indeed been a surrogate church.  I am so grateful that God gave me a place to fellowship with the saints when the traditional venues at that time just never worked for me.   I know I am a square peg.

My poor dad was so concerned for my spiritual well being.  I know he loved me and he knew that I loved him.  He couldn't figure me out and to be honest - I couldn't either.  Now that I am a dad, I understand his concern for me.  We love our kids and want to do our best to lead them to and keep them on the straight and narrow.  It's our job - it's what we do.  Even though I was an odd kid to figure out, dad knew I loved Jesus.  Even though dad couldn't figure me out, I always knew and felt dad and mom's prayers covering me.  

I enjoy the church I am attending now.  It's a church of square holes - of very unique God loving folk..  Sometimes though...I still have the desperate need to slip outside and head for the monkey bars and the swing-set