November 16 – “Cal”

I made a new acquaintance today.  I'd like to be able to call him a friend, but I only got to spend about an hour with him.     The city finally sent someone to clean out the yard of the house next door.  We always react with a somewhat cynical attitude when the crews show up.  They have come three or four times now, and all that has ever happened is the front yard gets mowed and a tiny portion of the back feels the wrath of the weedeater.  We had no real reason to expect otherwise today when a pickup truck arrived with a man about my age and a younger woman, a lawn mower, and a weedeater.  Especially when the woman drove off with the truck shortly after they got there.  The guy got started with the mower and did fine until he got to the jungle.  He pushed his way through some of the surrounding tundra before giving up on the mower and switching to the weedeater.  And he got after it.  Maybe there was some hope after all.  But as we finished up lunch, the noise from the weedeater was silent as well.  Our only comment was, "Oh, well."   About thirty or forty-five minutes later, the doorbell rang.  It was the guy from next door.  He said the weedeater didn't work, and he wanted to use the telephone to call his boss to come get him.  I said sure.  He made the call and headed back over.  I hung up the phone, grabbed a windbreaker and a bottle of water from the fridge, and walked over to join him.  And the next hour or so was one of the most entertaining I have had in a long time.   He was born in Arkansas right on the border with Louisiana.  He lived there and actually in Louisiana for a long time, but he said it was scary living in a small town where everybody is related to everybody.  "Who are you gonna go out with on a date?" was his question.  So he moved to Mississippi to find him someone to marry who wasn't blood kin.     He and his new Mississippi bride moved to Galveston 30 or 40 years ago.  He has several kids in "two different families," but he seemed partial to one daughter in particular.  He had strong opinions about the youth of the world today.  Seems a grandson of his walked in with his pants sagging and his "drawers showin'."  So good old granddad pulled them down the rest of the way and gave him a swift kick in the rear.  The boy's mother fussed at granddad about it.  But he said she should go back to putting Pampers on the boy if he wanted to walk around with  his pants off.   He doesn't have a car.  He used to.  When he had one he would drive his daughter back to visit relatives in Louisiana.  Until one day after he and his uncles had been drinking "some beer and a little whiskey."  He got in the car and headed home.  And the highway patrol stopped him.  He admitted he had been drinking, and the officer actually just gave him a warning, but he made sure he understood that a DWI is nothing to mess with.  He got the message and hasn't driven since.  Walks wherever he wants to go now.  I told him that with regard to drinking you really only have two choices, to stop drinking or stop driving.  He said, "Well you see what my choice was.  I'm not gonna stop drinking."  I said, "But it sounds like you weren't in the habit of getting falling down drunk."  He answered, "You can only do fallin' down drunk when you're at home.  Then it don't matter if you just pass out."    We talked about fishing, and I finally officially introduced myself to him.  I think he said his name was Cal.  I invited him to sit on our porch.  I told him I was enjoying his stories and I asked if he would tell me his God story.  Sadly, he said he didn't have much of one of those.  He did have opinions about women preachers, though.  One of his nieces tried to do that one time and he didn't think that was right.  The few times he took a breath I did manage to share with him that the thing that really mattered was where his heart was with Jesus.  Like so many people, he readily agreed with me, but obviously had no intention of letting something like that change his lifestyle.   His ride finally returned, and I reluctantly said farewell.  He actually stayed a little longer, though.  His boss was able to get the weedeater started.  The back yard still is a mess.  But I have someone new to pray for.     2 Peter 3:9 says, "The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance."   Father, please be patient and draw Cal to you.  Amen.