A lesson about living faith and our role in it

Gardendale resident Ed Autery blasted into my office Tuesday on a mission he firmly believed in. He had something that deserved to be in the paper.

I tried to explain to him how we decide what goes in the paper and that we don't take unsolicited submissions as a rule except for letters to the editor. He wasn't buying it.

He wanted his article to run on the front page of the religion section. I have to admit, Autery, a member of Mission Dorado Baptist Church, had a point. With the caveat that I have no idea if this is true, here's what he had written up:

"Less than a year ago, gasoline was $4 a gallon. Midland and Odessa were booming, and the Iraq war was winding down. The churches were full, but I'm not sure our hearts were in the right place. Were we truly thankful for the many blessings we were enjoying?

"As I sat in my usual pew in church, I was thinking how blessed I was. In the next few weeks, oil prices fell 60 percent, financial portfolios lost 70 percent of their values and our economy began dying on the vine. Companies began laying off employees in large numbers.

"Farmers and ranchers were suffering economic losses because we had had very little moisture in the past year and we had suffered many serious grass fires. To say the least I was depressed. As I thought about these things, I began to think that God was not pleased with the choices we as a Christian nation had made in the past 25 years.

"In our church was a young businessman who loves Jesus and is a great witness to his employees. He had three Hispanic employees, family men who also love Jesus and each other. I came to know these young Christian men at our weekly prayer group where they faithfully attended. Due to the downturn in the oil business, the company was having to make cuts in the number of employees. Knowing that more layoffs were coming, two of these young men decided to give up their jobs in order for the third man to keep his because he had a larger family to support. In a job market like this, it took great courage, love for their brother and a tremendous trust in the Lord for these young men to do this.

"Am I My Brother's Keeper? These young men said, YES. What do you say?"

Autery looked me in the eye and asked me if I could have done the same thing.

No. I don't think I could have.

This conversation plowed into me heavier than normal because as I write this my mother is in the Midland hospital trying her best to recover from a disastrous rollover accident. It's a critical situation.

Since the Sunday afternoon wreck, I've grappled with my own faith virtually nonstop.

In her honor, I'll share with you her favorite joke.

Two baseball guys were contemplating the great beyond one day and discussing if there was baseball in heaven. They each agreed that if one of them died, then they would visit the survivor as a ghost and tell if there was baseball in heaven.

Sadly, one passed unexpectedly a few months later. True to his word, his ghostly form appeared one night to his friend.

"Sam," he said, "I have good news and bad news."

"The good news is that there is baseball in heaven. The bad news is you're pitching Sunday."

Baseball and faith. Both work much better as participatory sports.