Why I'm Running

When I posted the picture on Facebook of some folks putting up one of my campaign signs, someone asked, “A bucket list item?” Umm, no, seeking political office has never been on my to-do list. So, why am I running?

I’m running for fire board because, recently, someone was sitting in my church office and looked around and said, “I remember having a physical in this room.”

Back when Blue Springs was a small town with only one doctor, that doctor owned and worked out of the house that now serves as the office for my church. Horses once roamed where our outdoor chapel sits. The 1950’s built-in t.v. in the former den that is now my office is a fun piece of memorabilia of days gone by.

Dr. Bey is no longer the doctor in Blue Springs. We have our own hospital in our city limits and others nearby, and many doctors serve this booming suburb. I am certain that Dr. Bey did a wonderful job tending to the citizens of Blue Springs back then, and I am equally certain that our current medical options serve us well now. Although Dr. Bey served the same mission of providing medical care, the manner in which that mission is fulfilled in Blue Springs looks quite different now than it did back when Dr. Bey did physicals in his den.

Similarly, fire protection needs have changed in the years since Blue Springs and the surrounding area were largely rural. Prairie Township Fire Protection District was formed when south Blue Springs was simply open farmland, and it served the area well.  Today, suburbia has arrived, and previously unincorporated rural areas are now part of the suburb that Blue Springs has become.  In spite of changing populations, our fire district lines have remained unchanged. Rather than the three closer and newer fire stations of another district, my house is served by the single Prairie Township fire station, including ambulance service. 

It never occurred to me to ask about fire protection until two houses on my block burned. Now, I am keenly aware that in the past few months, I had a neighbor who had to lie at the end of his driveway for about 20 minutes while waiting for an ambulance, and another neighbor faced a similar wait time while choking. 

The mission of any fire department is to protect and preserve life and property. As populations shift over the years, how that mission is accomplished will change, but the mission will remain the same.

I could discuss fire statutes and budgets, because I’ve read and am familiar with them. The budget numbers, by the way, are very similar to my church. I could discuss firefighters’ salaries compared to neighboring districts. I could even discuss strategies for making a difference in the short term and the long term. These things are important parts of my qualifications to serve. (Most of you who are reading this article probably know me well enough to know that I don’t jump into things that I don’t think I can do. Unfortunately, only a very few of you readers of you are eligible to vote for me.) The primary question here, though, is why am I running? Why am I adding something else onto my plate?

I am running because, many years ago, a young man had a physical in the room that is now my church office. In the same way that the delivery of medical care has evolved in Blue Springs, so, too, fire protection needs to evolve to serve the current needs of Blue Springs. I believe I can help my community, and so that’s why I’m running.

Daily Grace and Its Opposite

Each day during Lent, I’ve been intentional about paying attention to moments of grace in each day. When I find one, I take a moment to say, “Aha! That’s just the right amount of grace to get me through this day.” (Check out 2^nd Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is a sufficient for you. . . “)

Yesterday was a challenge, as I encountered two people who provided the opposite of grace. (Neither encounter, by the way, was with a person in my church.) One person had been very hurt and wounded by an event with someone else which, in reality, did not happen in the way in which they thought they had. Their hurt was real, but the event itself was not. No amount of explanation could help them see that what they thought was reality wasn’t, and I realized they were too invested in their hurt feelings to be able to accept the truth.

The other encounter was later in the day, related to this political thing that I’m doing. Someone sought me out to sit next to me at a meeting, only to spend the meeting whispering unkind things to me. His parting shot when I was finally able to leave was to call me “kiddo;” not in the “hey, we’re just pals” sense of the word, but in the denigrating “your little mind certainly can’t comprehend the big things we’ve been talking about” sense of the word. I almost responded with, “Hey, buddy, that’s ‘Reverend Doctor Kiddo’ to you,” but discretion prevailed and I left.

Sheesh. Some days, and people, are like that. 

In the middle of these grace-less events, I went on Facebook for my once daily check-in. (Another Lenten discipline is to do Facebook only once daily. I’ve missed some posts, I’m sure, but I feel a lot freer from the obsessive checking on who’s doing what, and who’s liking what I’m doing.) While on Facebook, I saw a campaign by one of our teachers in the public schools. Jaime Guthrie is seeking reading books for kids in her class who are reading at below grade level. Since they’re below grade level, her standard classroom books are not at the right level. (Go to DonorsChoose.org and look for her classroom for more info or to donate.) And I remembered the honorarium I had received for doing a funeral recently, and I remembered the man, Harry Helgason, and how much he loved children.

On the spur of the moment, I donated that honorarium to that project. Now, children will have books to read, and Harry’s family will receive classroom thank you notes for this gift in his memory. It makes me smile to think about it, and I hope it makes them smile when they hear about it. 

It was just the right amount of grace to get me through the day.

Every other day during Lent, I’ve been watching for the grace done to me. Yesterday, I discovered that the grace sufficient for the day might sometimes come from me instead of being done to me. It doesn’t matter the source of the grace. Grace is always grace, and it’s always enough.