Storms Blow

I just discovered another way that I’m like my Dad. He hated cancelling activities. Neither snow, wind, rain, or hurricane would stop him. I was unreasonably annoyed last year when the governor cancelled every activity in the state for Hurricane Michael. I’m annoyed again now that so many activities are cancelled for Hurricane Dorian. There are definitely areas of Virginia Beach that will deal with flooding and power outages, but why can’t we play volleyball or go to the Y? It’s a little wind and rain, no worse than a standard nor’easter. Annoying. Dad was like that too, particularly about church.

As pastor he could make the call. If it was Sunday, he would insist on having church, regardless of the weather. Lianne and I lived right around the corner, so we were always there too. One year, 2010, we had a huge Christmas storm. The streets were covered in snow, and it was still snowing on Sunday morning. Dad sent an email telling everyone that the service was a go. It was a very small crowd. In an effort to make the most of the situation, I took a nice snowball into the sanctuary and pelted Dad right in the chest. I figured Jesus wouldn’t mind a little snow on the floor of the church because he loves little kids, and he knows how to have a good time.

It was a motley crew that Sunday, but we had a blast. We sledded in the parking lot, and had a snowball fight. It was the day after Christmas. I assume we sang a few songs and Dad shared a word, but I honestly don’t remember if we had a church service at all. I do remember playing in the snow with friends and family.

Similarly, a few years later, Dad scheduled an outdoor church service in June. It was only a few weeks before Dad passed away. The weather was iffy, but of course he decided to do it anyway. Dad, foreshadowing his own experience, released his turtle from captivity, back into nature where it belonged. The rain showed up, but the people didn’t. Those who did … they remember it.

I don’t know why cancelling things grated against my dad’s instincts. He was big on commitment and keeping the Sabbath. Attending church regularly was very important to him. He was also unfazed by the storms around him. Not reckless, but not careful either. In fact, oftentimes there was joy in the storm. There was shared experience in the struggle. I think that is what Dad enjoyed most. He wanted to exert his will over the circumstances instead of allowing them to push him down a path he didn’t want to go. I can relate, but sometimes the storms are too big for this life.

Storms blow, rain and wind causing a great tree to bow and break.
Storms blow, sickness and disease causing a great man to bow and break.
Storms blow, but we shouldn’t cancel life because of them.

A Prophet Named Dad

At first the band was the 3 brothers and Nate Dawg. Then Nathan moved away and it was the 4 brothers, in a punk/pop quartet called Pops Body Shop. This particular story is about a time that Dad made his presence felt during one of our concerts. He and Mom were always involved in the band. They went to most of our shows. Dad drove the van, pulled the trailer, and helped us set up and tear down the instruments and sound equipment. They were super supportive in every way.

In this case, Dad was so supportive that he got us banned from a venue for life. Continue reading A Prophet Named Dad

O Club

When Dad was in the Navy it was a man’s world. It was before the Tailhook scandal. It was widely understood that the military was filled with boys and that boys would be boys. Dad was different. Other than laughing at fart jokes, he had left boyhood behind. He was a gentleman in the old-fashioned sense. He treated women with respect. He believed in avoiding sin and avoiding temptation, and he lived those convictions in his life, whether at home or on the job. Sometimes that was easier said than done. Continue reading O Club

Supertones Was His Name by Rob Stevenson

(April 12, 2006) – Supertones was his name, after a Christian band popular in the 90s.  I didn’t want this active, little Dalmatian puppy 10 years ago when he came to us, but Bev and I felt like the Lord was saying, “Take him.”  So we did.  About a week later, he contracted parvo virus, a deadly infection that few animals recover from.  He was a deathly ill little pooch.  One night, after many days of him not eating and being extremely sluggish, I stayed up all night with him.  I cradled Supertones in my arms, and hand fed him.  To my joy, he started nibbling on some regular dog food in the wee hours of that morning ordeal.  I was thrilled!  It was the beginning of his come back.  Continue reading Supertones Was His Name by Rob Stevenson

Dad’s Memorial Service

Rob Stevenson was greatly admired and loved. There are many around the country however, and in far corners of the world, who could not attend Dad’s memorial service. So, this is a recap of the viewing, graveside service, and memorial service. I’m writing it up from memory, and I’ve included some videos and pictures as well. It is for those folks who couldn’t make it, for others who just want to remember, and for me.

It was two days after Dad passed away. The four boys and Mom sat down around the conference table with Pastor John to plan the memorial service. He started on a somber tone. It wasn’t long before one of us cracked a joke. I don’t remember the specifics, but it was surely inappropriate on some level given the setting. We all laughed. I peeked at Mom. She was smiling. I figured we’d be OK. Continue reading Dad’s Memorial Service