It was the Fall of 2004 in Roanoke, VA. My wife and I had made the trip up to visit her parents for the weekend. There was the usual distinct chill in the air, the kind that would joyfully leap across your skin, shoot through your lungs as you breathe it in, and make you come alive. The leaves were colored and washed in the glow of vivid red, gold, and bright orange, seemingly each colored by the brush of God, just to give us that sense of awe, wonder, and gratitude for which words cannot explain. The slight breeze that blew through the leaves seemed to be the whistle of God, as He carefully and intently loosened the leaves from the trees to fall gently to the ground, all to acquaint us with the reality that He is always preparing to make all things new again.
It was the perfect day for a run. So I laced up my shoes and made my way down the streets of Roanoke, VA. This day, my route would take me through a local park. As usual, the day would be filled with activity, and I was moving from event to event. My run would be sandwiched in between scheduled events as well. I need not tarry and I had to be purposed. Time, as always, was of the essence. Strangely, so much of my life then and now, seems to match the hurriedness of that run. Yes, I was aware of and enjoying the beauty of that Fall day, but I was also enslaved to the pace of the world around me. That is when the gift rounded the corner of the greenway and stared me straight in the face.
He was a tall elderly man, 88 years old to be exact. He was dressed in brown, khaki pants, a tan shirt, with a dark brown cardigan sweater. His head was topped with a matching brown fedora. He walked with a cane, slightly bent over at the back. As we almost collided, our eyes locked and I blurted out, “Dr. Gamble!?” His head cocked, he bore the grandest smile, and replied, “Why Mark Carnes, how are you doing? Come, let’s sit on this bench and talk awhile.”
Dr. Harry Gamble was my wife’s Pastor as a child, where she grew up at Calvary Baptist Church in Roanoke, VA. He had long since been retired several years. But he still knew her family well. More than that, he knew my family well. We shared Waxhaw, NC as our hometown. Of course, his history went back much further than mine. He was born there in 1916.
Dr. Gamble and I were well acquainted on many levels. We also each shared a calling and life’s work in full-time ministry. But when he said, “Let’s sit on this bench and talk awhile,” my first thought was, “Uh, I don’t have a while. I’m on a bit of a schedule.” But of course, where do you think I ended up? That is correct, sitting on that bench. But more than the beauty of a brisk, Fall day, that was God’s gift to me that day.
Dr. Gamble began to ask me about my family, my wife’s family, my job in ministry, and many other things. He took a keen interest in even some of the most mundane details, as if they were of utmost importance. He began each sentence by putting his hand on my shoulder, leaning in, and saying, “Now Maaaaark.” That’s correct, it’s not a type-o. That’s how he said my name, like it was a great pleasure for him to say it. My name is one syllable, but he made it two. His speech was deep and thundering, yet thoughtful and kind. He spoke with a deliberate and focused pace that seemed to absorb each word before releasing it into the atmosphere. It was genuine. He captured my attention right there in that park. He made me feel like I was the only person on planet earth in that moment.
When he began to speak of Waxhaw, a glow came across his face that seemed to radiate with childlike excitement. He spoke of the old days and times gone by. Then he spoke of the bridge in Waxhaw that spans over the railroad tracks running right through the middle of town. He declared that one hasn’t truly lived until they go stand at the center of that bridge, close their eyes, and breathe in the rich and resplendent Waxhaw air! I’ve done that. He’s right.
But what struck me most was his pace about everything. His pace was so different and so out of place than most of the human race. Didn’t he know that this was an election year and the pressure was mounting everywhere? Didn’t he know that Osama Bin Laden had just issued a threat of another attack on our country, just three years after 9/11? Didn’t he know we were fighting a ferocious war in the Middle East? Didn’t he know that people were furiously debating and choosing sides over whether traditional marriage is between a man and woman? Didn’t he know about all the issues that were dividing our nation?
An entire world around him was seemingly spinning out of control and filled with chaos. There were people rushing to and fro all about him, and yet his pace was so different and out of place. It was perfect. He wasn’t unaware of any of the events around him. They just didn’t control him. He refused to be hurried or worried. He knew of the bad. He prayed over it. But he knew there was always good in the midst of the bad, and that there was always far more good than bad in the eternal scheme of things. His peace, his assurance, his comfort, his pace, came from something different than the world had to offer. The Heaven that held that peace was in his heart, but he also knew he’d be going there soon. I was desirous of his pace, so out of place, so perfect. He wasn’t out of touch, he just seemed to know what mattered most, and that is where he put most of his attention.
Finally, he said, “Well I’ve taken up enough of your time,” and got up to continue his walk. Strangely, all I had wanted to do was avoid that long talk, but now I didn’t want it to end. As we parted, I looked at my watch…Ouch! Over forty-five minutes had gone by and the clock was still clicking. I had to move! I began to run! Only a few steps into it, I thought back to the conversation on the bench with Dr. Gamble. I could almost hear him saying, “Now Maaaark.” I stopped running, I crested the top of the hill, from the valley I could see the colored mountains all around me. It’s strange all that you can see when you’re not marching to the world’s pace. I walked the rest of the way back. I took it all in.
Only months later, Dr. Gamble would breathe his last breath on planet earth and go home to Heaven. I wonder if he knew that would be the last time he’d ever see me again. If I had not stopped that day, I would have never received the gift of the “perfect, out of place, pace” from an old Pastor and friend. God used him to give it to me that day. Step out of the traffic, look at people when you talk to them, listen to them, love them, care for them, take an interest in them, make them feel like they are the most important person in the world. Slow down, breathe in what’s important, not all the noise.
I heard a story from my father-in-law about a message Dr. Gamble preached at their church one time from Psalm 46:10. He got up and read the verse with his deep, thunderous voice, “Be still and know that I am God.” Then, he calmly sat down in the pulpit in stillness and silence for the next 30 minutes, leaving the congregation to sit, stunned in stillness and silence as well. He was still preaching that message to me on a park bench some 40 years later, just months before he died. Seems fitting these days.
Step out of the traffic! Take a long, loving look at me, your High God, above politics, above everything. Psalm 46:10 (The Message)