Jimbo's Jots

For the past 25 or so years, I have gone to Gatlinburg, Tennessee for a spiritual retreat with about 7000 other people from all over during the third weekend in February. I always look forward to the weekend for several reasons. The messages are engaging and challenging. The worship time is always uplifting. I get to spend an extended weekend with people I like to be with.

It’s also a time to connect up with specific people. What I mean by this is, for the most part, this is the only time I get to face to face some people that I love or have developed a kinship with over the past 25 years. Some of these people are youth ministers in churches across the midwest and south. This is the only time I get to see them, but we greet each other and catch up on ministry and family.

Every once in a while, there are those moments when the connection kind of sneaks up on me. Such was the case this last trip to Gatlinburg. One of my long time friends, like a brother, is Mark. He is the preaching minister at the Arlington church in Knoxville. Mark and I did our meet and greet.

Later in the weekend, I saw Mark talking with someone else and I thought I would sneak in and join the conversation. As that one finished, Mark and I met the emcee of Winterfest, David. As we talked with him, he had mentioned one little thing. He said that Mark was someone he knew because when he was a kid, his family would listen to this group of college guys where his grandparents were professors. His grandparents? Steve and Mildred Eckstein, who came to Michigan Christian College (now RCU) and taught. The Eckstein’s were just a beautiful couple who loved on college kids as if they were their own. They had given a couple of cassette tapes to their children and grandchildren of a group called the Tumbleweeds. So as Mark and I talked with David, we realized what an exciting connection we had.

As Mark and I were walking away from that conversation, he had told me that someone in his group knew me. I was a little confused as I didn’t know too many people in Knoxville. He said something about knowing my family, maybe St. Louis. As we got to the section where his group was, he introduced me to Rachel. Rachel said she knew me because of her mother, Ruth. As it turns out, Rachel’s grandfather was the minister at the church that I grew up in. Her mom and mom’s sisters were the same age as my oldest three sisters. Talking with Rachel brought back a flood of memories from church services in the basement of a building where the Masons would meet, seeing pictures of her grandfather, my dad and some other gentlemen digging to start a building project, and sharing family meals together

In both meeting encounters, the memories through connections went racing through my head. I’m always amazed how God brings people in and out of our lives to demonstrate the relationships that we build over time. These are cherished times that continue to bring joy to me.

Be blessed! Be a blessings to others!