PLANTING SEEDS OF HOPE......

Our servicemen and women give much of themselves.  Far more than most of us can imagine.  The same can be said of the families and friends of our military personnel.  Especially.....and I say this with the strongest tone I can, especially when there is a loss of life.

It's obvious what's given on the outside, but it's on the inside that few of us ever see.  It's through these hurting times, that God uses people to provide proof that he is there.  Let me give you an example:

From the Rockford Register Star (October 14, 2010)

The war in Afghanistan has struck close to home.  Lance Cpl Alec E. Catherwood of Byron, Illinois was shot and killed Thursday by small-arms fire while conducting dismounted combat operations against enemy forces in Helmand province, Afghanistan.

Catherwood, a 19-year old rifleman was assigned to the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, I Marine Expeditionary Force, Camp Pendleton, California.  He was the sixth Marine from the same unit to die in combat within 24 hours.

Catherwood, the son of Kirk and Gretchen Catherwood, was engaged to be married July 2, 2011 to Hailey Patrick of Davis Junction.

Patrick's mother, Christine, an employee of the Register Star, described him as "the kindest human being who ever walked the face of the earth".  

As you read the last sentence......"the kindest human being who ever walked the face of the earth", it could very well cause you to stop for a moment.....maybe even choke down the lump in your throat......or wipe away a tear streaming down your cheek.  My gosh.  What a testament from a lady who was to be a future mother-in-law!!!

How will Alec be remembered?  And how will his family and friends continue his "kind" fruits?  Enter Project 52....a non-profit group that donates trees to families in memory of those who have left us far too early in life.  Their mission statement, "planting seeds of hope, one tree at a time" intersected with the Catherwood clan's desire to further Alec's legacy .  Last October, Project 52 traveled to Byron to honor the request of a memorial tree plant.

A Tree of Hope

"It was such an honor to plant a tree for Lance Cpl. Alec Catherwood in Illinois", said Bill Clark co-founder of Project 52.  "He was one of the first serviceman we planted a tree for".  But the story doesn't end there......

A letter from Project 52 details the REST of the story.    

Lance Cpl. Joseph Lopez found his calling as a U.S. Marine in his mid-twenties.  His superiors noted his maturity, bravery and sense of duty.  He was quickly given positions of responsibility-manning high-maintenance machine guns and defending his battalion from enemies who might sneak up from behind.

His family remembers him as a fun-loving guy with a soft spot for children, always smiling and spoiling his nieces and nephews.  Longtime friends recall his ability to lift spirits no matter the situation.    

Joseph served in Afghanistan alongside Alec Catherwood, a 2011 Trees to Remember honoree.  The two young men were ambushed while coming to the aid of other soldiers who were pinned down by insurgents.    Alec, 19, was shot and killed.  Joseph stepped on an explosive device and died instantly. He was 26.

After receiving a memorial tree, Alec's family nominated Joseph's family to receive a tree as well.  

This Wednesday (October 3rd) in Rosamond, California, Lance Cpl. Joseph Lopez will be honored with a tree planting at the Assembly of God Church at 5 p.m.  "When the Catherwood family nominated a fellow platoon member, Lance Cpl. Lopez, we felt that Alec's family wanted to pass their honor and gratitude along", said Clark.

 Where is God?  Where was he that day Lance Cpl. Catherwood and Lance Cpl. Lopez were killed?   He's right there, alongside us guiding us through the difficult times.  And he's right there as we help others.  


This Wednesday, the spirit, the kindness and the love Alec Catherwood exhibited, will be carried on.  His family and friends saw to that.  It will be interesting to see, who among the Lopez family and friends, God uses next....

YGG,

John  

A BASEBALL DREAM AMONG THE ROCKS

God's at Work around us all the time. All we need to do, is stop, watch and listen.  It could very well be your next door neighbor that he is changing.  Maybe it's someone you work with.  In fact, it might just be the person you sit next to in the church pew this week.

How do you and I react when God does beckon?  The typical response might be, "it depends on what is being asked".  Thus, some of us take Giant steps when God calls.  Jump right in and trust the Lord.  For others, it's little Baby steps.  And that's all right.  Most importantly, it's being open to moving when God calls.  Rest assured, he will call.  It's in our hands, then, how we will respond.

Let me give you an example of an opportunity that awaits someone.  That someone could be you.  Or scores of others that have a deep love for the Lord.......and the game of baseball.  Let me take you to a  little village in the Dominican Republic where God is changing lives through community.......

I'd like you to take a look at the picture below and imagine in your wildest dreams what sport is played there?  If you thought motocross, you're wrong.  If your guess is golf, you'd be off base too.  Try baseball.  That's right baseball.  And not what you'd call a "Field of Dreams" site at the present time, either. Is it?

It's a what kind of field?

The ballfield you see is located in Las Charcas in the Dominican Republic.  Population, 9,254.  Now imagine again, what it would be like trying to play your country's favorite sport if you were one of the youth of that community (over 2,000 by some estimates) .  Let's not mention the lack of a backstop or fence.  Or dugouts.  Or grass.  But let's focus on  what is there...... rocks.  Not small pebbles mind you.  But rocks the size that many in the United States would use for accent in their gardens.


Let's take the imagery one step further.  It's the bottom of the ninth in the hotly contested ballgame at Rockbottom Field.  Two out.  Bases loaded.  Home  team is trailing 4-2.  There's a line drive hit to the shortstop's feet.  He reaches for the ball, but it caroms off a small boulder and ricochets to the third base foul line and three runs score.  Game over.  If you're the home team you're happy, but if you're the visitor you're pretty upset to lose that way. These are the elements Las Charcas' youth play with.  Not because they want to, but they have to.  There is no other place to play.  For now....

To understand what baseball means to Las Charcas, local organizer Cristian Santiago, had this to say, "baseball is the most popular sport in all of the Dominican Republic.  Building a field for this community would attract baseball teams from up to 3 hours away and would be the pride of Las Charcas!"

Las Charcas in its present state

This past year, Project 52 worked with Lighthouse Projects, a Las Charcas organization, to help build a gymnasium and weight room.  It's been a huge success.....so much in fact, that the question was not "now what happens?, but "what's next?"  Thus the baseball field dream. Truly, if YOU HELP build it, they will come and come and come!!!!

The cost of the project is estimated to be $49,780 and is broken down as follows:

                                                                                Price

Cement blocks ( 8900 at $1 each)                             $    8900
Sand needed (9 truckloads at $900)                                8100
Gravel needed (8 truckloads at $900)                              7200
Bleachers  $12,000                                                        12,000
Fencing $8,000                                                                8,000
Bags of cement (620 needed at $9 each)                       5,580

Las Charcas' "Field of Dreams" 

And that's where Project 52 is today.....searching for those who want to not only help the sport of baseball continue its global reach, but offer their service in some manner.  Perhaps it's as a sponsor.  Or perhaps you have skills that would prove valuable in the building of the ball diamond.  Maybe you want to be a part of future teams that travel to the Las Charcas and play in tournaments....... you just might have a  groundskeeper background that would prove valuable to maintaining the field or you have a baseball coaching background that would be helpful in offering clinics to the community once the field is constructed.  The ideas of helping are endless!

For more information you can contact Bill Clark at bill@52.org or myself at Johnk@p52.org

YGG,

John

WHERE WERE YOU GOD?

**THIS IS A REPOST OF LAST YEAR'S STORY

Most of us have experienced something tragic in our life.  And when that happens, often times our response is....."where were you God".   Those words might be a knee-jerk reaction or it might be a question we know we'll never get an answer to here on earth.  Nevertheless, the feeling is there.

These past few days, I've heard a number of people ask questions in regards to 9-11.  "Where was God that day?   Why did he let that happen?"  Well......there is an answer.  One that will be useful to you anytime you reach a point of despair.  The story I'm about to share with you is a God-thing.  Told only by the one that knows.....      

I was there................

You say you will never forget where you were when you heard the news on September 11,2001.  Neither will I.  I was on the 110th floor in a smoke filled room with a man who called his wife to say "Good-Bye".  I held his fingers steady as he dialed.  I gave him the peace to say, "Honey, I am not going to make it but it is okay......I am ready to go.

I was with his wife when he called as she fed breakfast to their children.  I held her up as she tried to understand his words and as she realized he wasn't coming home that night.  I was in the stairwell of the 23rd floor when a woman cried out to ME for help.  "I have been knocking on the door of your heart for 50 years!", I said.  "Of course, I will show you the way home-only believe in ME now.

I was at the base of the building with the Priest ministering to the injured and devastated souls.  I took him home to tend to his Flock in Heaven.  He heard my voice and answered.

I was on all four of those planes, in every seat, with every prayer.  I was in the very hearts of the believers there, comforting and assuring them that their faiths has saved them.

I want you to know that I saw every face.  I was in Texas, Virginia, California and Afghanistan.  I was standing next to you when you heard the terrible news.  Did you sense me?

I want you to know that I saw every face.  I knew every name-though not all knew Me.  Some met ME for the first time on the 86th floor.  Some sought ME with their last breath.  Some couldn't hear ME calling to them through smoke and flames"  "Come to ME....this way......take my hand",  I offered.  Some chose, for the final time, to ignore ME.  But, I was there.     

I did not place you in the Tower that day.  You may not know why, but I do.  However, if you were there in the explosive moment in time, would you have reached for ME?

September 11, 2001 was not the end of the journey for you.  But someday your journey will end.  And I will be there for you as well.  Seek ME now while I may be found.  Then, at any moment, you know you are "ready to go".

I will be in the stairwell of your final moments....

GOD


We are just days removed from honoring 9-11.  The sting is still there...but for how long?  Will the words God offered in this story be something you can hold onto for more than a couple of days, a week, or perhaps a month?  Or will they be something you can grasp for eternity?

Know this...He was there on September 11th, 2001.  He is here today.  And He will be there tomorrow.


YGG,

John   

SHOULD WE FIRE GOD?

I'm not what you'd call an avid book reader.  I tend to read short stories on the internet or in the paper or in magazines.  Not really sure why, because once I get started on a book, I generally get riveted to the story and jump knee deep into subject at hand.  On more than one occasion, my wife Joanne, has said to me, "why don't you grab a book and snuggle up and read.....and get your head out of that stupid television".

While I agree with her, much of my apprehension is that I think I'm a better visual learner than anything else.  At least, that's what I've countered with under my breath.  But she's right, I should do more book reading because there's a whole new world out there!!

This past week I took her suggestion and began reading , "Should We Fire God".  a book written by a young pastor who offered a myriad of questions and answers to the very subject at hand.  The timing couldn't have been better.  I'm no different than anyone else who struggles at times with God's involvement or lack of  connectivity in our lives.  Here is the short lead-in to the book:      .

 "When the worst school shooting in history occurred, Pastor Jim Pace, a Virginia Tech alumnus, was front and center.  Media, students, church members and strangers asked him the same question: If God is loving, why doesn't He stop disasters before they start?  SHOULD WE FIRE GOD is Jim's thoughtful, reasoned response to the idea that God isn't doing His job very well.  In conversational, non preachy prose, Jim explains why God allows pain and devastation to occur-and what the consequences would be if He didn't.  And he leads readers to question, if we fire God-who takes His place-woefully imperfect humans?  Jim uses real-life examples and his own battles with faith to develop readers' understanding of God, His true role in their lives, what they should do with doubt and fear and what He feels when we ache.  


Think back to that April 16, 2007 day.  Do you remember the first images that flashed across the television screens of the deadliest shooting by a single gunman in U.S. history?   Hour by hour the death count went up....32 in all on the Virginia Tech campus.  Another 17 were wounded.  Why?  Where was God?  How could he allow such evil to take place?

Slowly....ever so slowly the wounds have begun to heal.  But it hasn't been easy.  Pastor Pace was placed front and center to the "where was God" question.  And he has tackled it with great passion, compassion and thought.  But most importantly, his responses are something that we can all take to heart.  They are the words that cross every path we take.  Not easy words, but defining ideas that can help offer hope and ease the pain.

Pastor Rick Warren who penned a "Purpose Drive Life" wrote the foreword for Pace's work.  He offered these thoughts.  "We live in a broken world.  Because of that, we've all been brought to our knees by tragedies.  What do you do when you're struggling with overwhelming circumstances and emotions?  How should you respond when your faith is tested and God seems absent or in no hurry to act?"    

So here's my suggestion.....and not a subtle one I might add.  Read this BOOK!   You owe it to your self, your family and those people who you'll encounter in the future who are asking the question...where is that God of yours?

"If you ask to be adopted by me, I will do so,
And if you seek me- you will find me"-paraphrased by Pastor Pace from Ephesians 1:5 and Matthew 7:7

YGG,

John  
       

ADDRESS BULLYVILLE-PART 3

The following is from Jerry Stewart who hailed from a small town in southeastern Iowa.  Weight had been a factor in his life since birth and as we'll hear from him, it's been the cause of some pretty harsh treatment over the years.

"It might have been the longest day of my life", said Jerry Stewart.  Those were Stewart's words as he looked back on the recruiting process after graduating from the University of Minnesota.


"I'd spent an earlier recruiting session being humiliated by a little gal who was a recruiter for a marketing firm who in so many words, told me, I was too fat", he said.  "After a long time reflecting as to whether I'd ever put myself in that cattle process again, I sucked it up and went for a second session.  This time I met someone who worked for a company who looked at me as a person first.....who said they were very interested in me and implied weight was not an issue.  The recruiter told me they'd let me know before they left campus that night whether the job was mine".

Stewart spent the hours after his meeting bouncing thoughts back and forth in his head.  Was he this, could he be that, would he be given a chance, gosh, if he could just get an opportunity....he'd shine.  Those words kept playing through his conscience back and forth.  And then the phone rang.  It was 11 p.m.   He hesitated in reaching for the phone figuring he already knew the answer.  In fact, he had the words already on the tip of his tongue..."thank you, thanks for calling.  I wish I could come to work with you, but I understand.  Thank you..."

But something happened after reaching for the receiver.  Stewart was hearing things in his ears he'd was having trouble putting together.  He had to shake himself inside to listen closer.  "Mr. Stewart, we'd like you to come to work for us.  As I mentioned in our interview, you'll be given a nice yearly compensation and benefits package which we can spell out later.   But are you interested?"  

Stewart paused for a short time and thought of all the abuse he suffered in high school being the fat boy and the semi-seclusion he'd put himself through in college.  He thought long and hard and the word that hit him was finally.  Finally, he was getting an opportunity to be someone.  Maybe now, the attitudes would be different toward him and he'd feel different about himself.  "Yes", he said.  "Yes, sir I sure am".  He heard the words as he said them half in a trance.  It was like all this was happening to someone other than Jerry Stewart.  "Wow.  Finally.  Finally", someone had confidence in my abilities", Stewart said.  As Jerry laid his head on the pillow that night, he had a different sense of his life.  And he let out a great big sigh.  One that was no doubt heard back in Bullyville in southeastern Iowa, his hometown.  Yes, it was a restful night of sleep that night.

In the coming days, Stewart packed for his return to Iowa where he would enter the job force.  Jerry was getting more nervous by the day.  Probably because he didn't know what he was walking into......what his boss would be like and what the other employees would think of him.  All pretty important stuff.  Mid-week came and it was time to leave his northern home.   Small Bullyville he liked to call it, but Bullyville all the same.  As the van pulled onto Interstate 35 heading south...Stewart felt nauseous.  Something wasn't right.  In addition to having an upset stomach, there was something else at play here.  But....there was no turning back.  Stewart had made his decision and what was ahead was his future.  Whatever it might be.

The trip and the move into his 2-bedroom apartment went smoothly.  His neighbors seemed friendly but somewhat aloof.  Jerry chalked that up to people wanting to keep to themselves....not anything about him per see.  And then came the first day of work.  And the realization of why he had felt sick days before.

"I walked into the office complex about 7:30 that first morning", Stewart said.  "I wanted to get there early and look around and get my nerves under wrap.  I let out a big rush of air as I entered the door.  And as I did I heard someone say..."hey big fella, we're not open yet".  "That's alright", I said.  "This is my first day of work and I wanted to come early", Jerry stated.  "Oh", said the voice again. "I'd have you sit in the waiting room, but I'm not sure the chairs will hold your weight.  You'll probably have to stand until someone else gets here or wait outside".  

Great, thought Jerry.  Not exactly the greeting he'd hoped for.  Great.  Was this place going to be another Bullyville?  "God, I hope not", he said out loud.


A SCHOOLGIRL'S WORKPLACE
Tell me what gives you the right, to make people feel so small.
What have they ever done to you, usually nothing, nothing at all.
Do you even realize the pain and suffering your actions cause?
I doubt you even notice, as you look to your friends for applause.
Not one of us is perfect, we all have our faults.
But don't use our imperfections as hurtful remarks or taunts.
It's the differences between us that makes us all unique,
From the color of our skin or hair, to the accent in which speak.
Once safe at home your victims alone break down and cry.
Some even feel there's no way out, and that they'd rather die.
Imagine being a parent and finding the child you adore,
having taken their own life, now lying lifeless on the floor.
Some suffer on in silence, afraid to speak out, alone and sad.
Was this really your intention to make someone feel that bad?
It's true that sometimes things are said that start off as a joke,
But you can cause such humiliation from unkind words you've spoke.
So just stop for a moment before bitching or poking fun,
As the damage that your words can do can never be undone.
For each of us is guilty when we ignore the things we see,
Thankful that they chose today to pick on you and not me.
Are we really all that heartless not to help when we see them cry?
Nowadays bullying has gotten worse, it's all gotten out of hand.
And the only way to stop it is for us to make a stand.
So be honest, take a good look at yourself, then ask yourself aloud,
Are you really the kind of person, of who you can be proud?-Rowan Geering, age 12

UP NEXT:  THE WORKPLACE AND CHANGES

YGG,

John
        

ADDRESS BULLYVILLE-PART 2

The following is from Jerry Stewart who hailed from a small town in southeastern Iowa.  Weight had been a factor in his life since birth and as we'll hear from him, it's been the cause of some pretty harsh treatment over the years. 

It  was a day Jerry Stewart had looked forward to for a long, long time.  He was finally headed down the highway in a north-westerly fashion leaving his hometown behind. "See ya later", he said out loud. As he took one final glance in the rear view mirror, he thought to himself, "there a better days ahead.  Finally, after years of abuse.....being called "fat and obese".....and sometimes a slob, he was moving on".  He was off to college and a chance for change in his life.  Bullyville would be a thing of the past.

Stewart's drive to Minneapolis took a little over six hours.  It was here where he would begin life anew at the University of Minnesota.  It was summer and Jerry had taken the first opportunity to get out of town that he could.  He didn't wait for the fall term to start.  The sooner the better.  As he trudged up the walk to his new home, Territorial Hall, he couldn't contain his glee.  Finally, he thought. "My day is here".

Stewart checked into his room and placed his belongings in the closet as neatly he could.  And he waited.  And waited.  And waited.  For his roommate.  But that never happened.  He waited expecting that sometime, someone would walk into the room and announce themselves.  Jerry had played it through in his mind for months.  But those hopes were dashed.  As Jerry would later find out, his roommate to be, got a look at his new bunking partner and asked for a move.  The residential counselor never gave Stewart a reason why, but he had his suspicions.  So, rather than having the opportunity to meet someone new and share some new experiences, Stewart could only muster ideas that were less than optimistic and most began with the word, "why".

"Why am I fat?  Why do people treat me this way?  Why can't I get a break" and Why God, do I have to go through this?"  All questions that had real legitimacy.  At least in Jerry's mind.

"That was a tough summer for me.  First off, I was away from home and didn't know anyone, didn't know where anything was and I had feelings of inferiority written all over me", Stewart would explain. "I spent many nights in my room thinking, ...wondering if this was going to be worth it.  Most of the time, I felt like it was a losing situation.  On the other hand, not many people knew me by name, so I tried to keep to myself.  That way I felt invisible", he added.

Year one went by....then two....then three.  And then it was onto Stewart's senior year at the U. As he would recall, much of his college life was inconsequential to him.  He learned alot, probably because he spent alot of time in his room studying....and being alone.  He had maneuvered his way through his first three years fairly easy.  Oh, he had the occasional looks thrown his way.  But he tried to push them aside as soon as he could.  "Frankly, there were so many diverse people at college, that I didn't feel singled out as much as high school", Jerry noted.  "I'd come from a little town in southeastern Iowa and it wasn't like we saw anything to different other than the height and weight of an individual and their hair color and style.  College was different.  And that was good......and bad".

Stewart spent much of his senior year readying himself for the work force. He tidied up his resume, got his grades in the best shape he could and bought a new suit.  A big new suit.  "I probably gained another 75 pounds at college", Jerry added.  "When I went to buy my suit for interviews, I realized how much weight I'd had put on in four years.  The scale now read 375 pounds".  

"The first interview I had was with a marketing firm in Iowa.  It went pretty well, or at least I thought it did", Stewart said. "At the very end, the interviewer asked me if I had ever considered a workout regime to lose weight, because their company liked to think of themselves as a "healthy and fit" organization".  "You need to lose weight Mr. Stewart.  Unless you do that we can't consider you for employment", she said.

"I was crushed", Jerry said.  "I'd gone through crap like this in high school.....had it go away somewhat in college and here was some skinny little female telling me in so many terms, "you need to lose weight".
"Every possible negative emotion came over me.....hate, anger, disgust.  You name it, and I felt it.  I left the interview office as quickly as I could.  Headed for home.  A place where I could feel somewhat safe......and invisible, again.".

"I looked into the freezer and spotted the gallon of pecan sundae ice cream.  That's all I remember about the rest of that day", Jerry said.  "With one exception.  The Bully that had controlled much of my life had reared its ugly head again".

UP NEXT:  A JOB OFFER AND ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY

"Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God-this is your true and proper worship.  Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.  Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is-his good, pleasing and perfect will. -Romans 12:1-2

YGG,

John         

ADDRESS BULLYVILLE-PART 1

The following is from Jerry Stewart who hailed from a small town in southeastern Iowa.  Weight had been a factor in his life since birth and as we'll hear from him, it's been the cause of some pretty harsh treatment over the years.  

"Hey Fatso", screamed the young girl.  "Get out of the way, would you?  Lose some weight or get off the playground".  Those were words Jerry Stewart had felt before.  He'd sensed them in people's eyes the way they treated him but he'd never heard them spoken out loud.  Now they had different legs.  

"I'll never forget that day", said Jerry.  "I remember it like it happened yesterday but in truth that was over 45 years ago.  I was only eight years old then.  And to make matters worse I relive it all the time.  I can't get the hurt out of my mind.  It cut deeper than any knife ever could", he followed up in saying.

That's where much of the ugliness began for Jerry Stewart.  But it started well before that.  Jerry has always been big.  He was a large baby.....10 lbs. 4 oz at birth.   He'd been told his size was a problem for his mother during delivery, but both survived after some difficult moments.  His older brother and sister have always been  much smaller than him and that has never helped much either.  Big, large and now, by someone words, FAT.

"That day on the playground was when I started feeling the abuse, the bullying, the threatening words and the disgust for my size", said Jerry.  "And it seemed like once it began, there was open season on me".  Kids I thought were friends went the other way.  They didn't have time for me anymore and I got left out.  There was this one kid who loved to pick on me", he recalled.  "We were only nine years old.  He'd go out of his way to make me feel like total crap.  It didn't make any matter where we I might run into him, if he had a chance to belittle me or make me uncomfortable', he'd say or do something.  I was his target.  His personal property to belittle or humiliate.  And he was good at it.  He'd always pick times or places where he had friends to back him up and where no adult could hear him rail on me".  

A sign Jerry wished he'd been able to use 

As Jerry continued to discuss his upbringing he cited numerous other situations of bad behavior directed towards him.  In each, he had this overriding thought, "what did I ever do to them to deserve this?"   As I  listened intently to the reliving of some truly ugly times for Jerry, I couldn't  come up with any sort of answer that might help.  His question though is one that has to ring true to anyone who has ever experienced the BULLY.  Why me?  why are you doing this?  and when will you go away?

Jerry's first personal bully did finally go away, but not after a long, long time of damage.  "He moved on to someone else when we hit junior high school.  I was never so glad to have him out of my sight.  But as you can tell, he'll never be out of my mind", Stewart said.  BUT things didn't stay that way for long.  As Jerry went on to explain, there always seemed to be another bully down the street, around the corner or in the locker room.  It was in this place, the room which you had to go shower and dress where young Stewart became the victim of further abuse and mistreatment.

"I hated phys ed", recalled Jerry of his freshman days in high school.  "I tried every excuse imaginable to skip out of that class. No matter what I did, it drew attention to my weight.  I was always slower than everyone else.  That was one part of the embarrassment.  But that was only the half of it, because afterwards came time for us to disrobe and shower.  There was one group of upperclassmen who loved to make fun of me and my rolls.  "Hey look, Jerry's got fat upon fat, they'd say.  It got to the point I'd get physically sick when the day came for that class.  It was that way the whole year.  Somehow I got through the school year and the guys who loved to make fun of me graduated.  So it ended at least for a while.  Every year though, I wrestled with some sort of demon in that class.  Or maybe I should say bully.  One of the same, I reckon", Jerry added.

Stewart went on to tell me how excited he was to graduate from his small Iowa high school and leave the ugly images in his past.  It was time for him to start over, he thought. College seemed to be a course of direction for him, a place where he could learn about people and himself and grow.  But the growing took place more physically than mentally.  In his freshman year he put on another 50 pounds.  Weight was even more of an issue and another detractor was about to emerge.

NEXT:  COLLEGE LIFE WITH THE BULLY      

Be strong and courageous.  Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you.  He will not forsake you.-Deuteronomy 31:6

YGG,

John