Monday, December 11, 2023
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
More stories about my friend Al
Jesus said, “Rise, take up your bed, and walk.” And the paralyzed man stood up immediately and went home, glorifying God.
My mentor Al Schmidt learned the ways of farm taxes and hired himself out as an accountant to fellow farmers, at first only a few but then a flood, so he needed an office more than his desk at home. He talked with my dad at a Kogudus reunion meeting one Saturday morning, because he knew Dad had an accounting degree from the University of Illinois.
“Still know a few of the old licks, the ins and outs?”
Dad, laughing, “Sure. I use them on my own books all the time.”
Actually, Dad, like Al, worked with other farmers too. At home, on his desk, cluttered with everything else, interrupted by everyone else, as was Al.
“How about we find an office and work together, and get busy doing it right?”
This time Dad didn’t laugh. His eyes grew thoughtful, then excited. “Great idea!”
Streams will burst forth in the desert, and the burning sands will become pools. Flowers will bloom and rejoice with joyful song. A highway will be there, and fools will not go astray on it. It is for those with a journey to make.
They found just the place, moved in a couple of desks and two of those new-fangled electric adding machines, made a few phone calls, and got to work.
Neither of them any longer had much livestock, so the winter months were perfect for punching numbers. But the best part was how they each learned quickly to listen to each other’s highs and lows, their consolations and desolations, their stories. They became friends far beyond what could happen in an hour on Saturday morning. They KNEW each other.
Kindness and truth shall meet, justice and peace shall kiss. Truth shall spring out of the earth.
Over time my own friendship with Al also turned into a listening time. Sometimes I had lunch with Al and his wife Lucille, who had as much trouble smiling as Al did not. She needed him and I guess, in God’s eyes, he needed her. I don’t remember their courting story, or the drama that continued in their marriage, then their children, their lives on the farm, and finally in a nice ranch house on Broadway east of downtown Lincoln.
Strengthen the hands that are feeble, make firm the knees that are weak, say to those who are frightened, Be strong, fear not! Here is your God, and he comes to save you.
Their kitchen smelled good, and the lunches were just fine. I sat still and listened to them banter, sometimes, and fence, sometimes, and batter each other, sometimes. Lucille’s gift of being herself wherever she was (surely not everywhere) allowed me to watch and learn. Margaret and I were newly married. We were learning the ropes, wherever and however we could.  Sometimes when Al and I would talk after lunch, or on another day, and he let me ask questions about how they made it through the years, I learned even more.
There was nothing but good here. Al didn’t do much venting or blaming. He exhibited the opposite of entitlement. He forgave quickly. But he was honest about his life, and I think welcomed the opportunities to, as Henri Nouwen put it, “affirm God’s real presence in the thick of our lives. Because a true Christian always affirms life, a life stronger than death and destruction, even when our eyes are filled with tears.”
I think especially, then.
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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