“Charlie. Charlie Owens,” he said, attaching a name to
the twinkling, dark brown eyes and flash of a grin. I had gone to the local mail center to
purchase stamps so the July invoices for my gardening business could be
mailed. Since it was well into
September, it was time. He had come in
to have copies made on the copy machine--3 of them.
Walking
cautiously with a cane, placing his feet with care, it was apparent at a casual
glance that he lives with and knows pain.
His stature indicated God declared him to be perfect when His creation
was completed at a little over 5’ in height.
The
Summer of 2017 has brought unprecedented devastation to my home state of Oregon
in the form of fire. Its lush green
growth and forestland is being ravaged, replaced by blackened tree trunks and
desolation. It is not an exaggeration
to say the state is ablaze with no end in sight. Lack of rain and very hot weather conditions
have exacerbated any efforts to bring the forest fires under control.
Glorious,
sunny summer days with blue skies have been replaced by a grim smoke cover,
causing the sun and moon to be red and producing hazardous breathing conditions
due to the pollution in the air. The
advisory given is to stay indoors and to wear a breathing mask if going
outside. There is no place to escape the
blight of fire.
I
had completed affixing stamps to envelopes, and he had paid for his copies when
the two of us began talking about the long-term damage of the fires to the
timber industry. A former employee of a
large timber company, the discovery was made that we had a mutual acquaintance,
a family member of mine who worked for the same company. That was when he introduced himself with the request to pass on greetings.
The
mail center wasn’t busy, so we stood and talked for quite a while—of the
current ruination affecting our state, of family, of faith.
Shared
values and personal spiritual beliefs resonated as he told of being an altar
boy, a marriage to the “perfect” woman, respect and love taught by a
father. We were in agreement that God
needs to be the base of life and all else springs from that. And that man needs to “look up” instead of
focusing on the catastrophes taking place.
“I’m short,” he said with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his voice
as he lifted his eyes skyward. “There’s
no place for me to look but up.”
At the age of 69, he
and his wife have 18 children, 2 of them still at home. He shared that they pray together twice a
day, as the day begins and as the day ends.
Any who gathers around the table with this family is encouraged to share
their day and to pray as well. It is
Charlie’s feeling that the needs and concerns, the daily experiences of each
person matters, and all benefit from that contribution. "What a gift of faith you are giving your children," I said. "Of faith and hope."
Heading
out the front door, we continued visiting.
“You are a delight,” I told him. “I
am so thankful to have met you. And
this, right here, is just one of the reasons I believe.” Charlie nodded in agreement, his bright smile
and demeanor touching me.
“I
know,” he said. “I thought I was just
coming down to have 3 copies made, and He had other plans.” “He is the great choreographer,” I added.
A
strong case is made for church attendance and membership by many, citing this
scripture: “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” Matthew 18:20 KJV
Charlie
Owens and I would never have met in a church; we would never have shared our
faith and our lives. The encounter was
not announced in a church bulletin, and it didn’t take place on a Sunday or a
Wednesday, pre-determined and organized.
And
yet there we were, in the middle of a Pak-Mail office, the “two gathered together.”
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