June is one of my favorite months. It is the month of Neva J’s birth. Her birth certificate records her name as Neva Jane but all I ever knew was Neva June. She spent her life helping others. Countless people received monetary gifts from her that she never spoke of and no one but the recipient knew. She did not learn to drive until she was 30. She clutched the steering wheel as if it would get away from her. Even in the throws of Alzheimer’s disease she knew the words to every hymn and sang them with gusto. Her anger was firey but her forgiveness was immediate. Neva J understood what being poor meant. When she and my stepfather Earl enclosed the front porch of the farmhouse they had purchased for $1,800 she was elated with what she termed The New Room. The decor was black and red which have become my favorite colors in my senior years.

As I get closer to the end of the story I see Neva J’s wisdom.
Everyone had value. We are all God’s children. ‘Red yellow black and white we are precious in his sight.’

I see the young moms and dads bring their little children to the Woods to play on the playground equipment and remember the days when MJ and I did the same with Aaron and Jonathon. Time passes fast. The kids seem like they will be little forever when they are changing before your eyes.

At various times I have been a member of leadership both in church and at SIUC. I do not miss it I never sought it. I relish being unknown and one of God’s quiet folks. I never felt that I had anything extraordinary to offer for leading others and regularly sought to only help and not hurt.

Age and wisdom bring peace to our role in humanity’s story. Many could have accomplished my little successes, but I was allowed to play upon the stage of life to cause others to understand that they were loved, accepted, heard, and seen.

Often God uses rough-hewn wood and wood with the bark attached to help others. John The Baptist wore a coat of camel hair and ate locust and wild honey. He had neither attended seminary nor been tutored at the feet of the rabbis. Yet he knew that one was coming after him whose shoes he was unworthy to unbuckle.

Humility we seek. A humble spirit is difficult to find in our coterie of elected leaders. A leader who understands that they have been elected for a season and no more. A leader who does not fear the ‘slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,’

The wind of what is coming stirs about us. The Writer is still writing. We are actors on the stage of the grand performance.