Rainy Day Greatheart's Table People

Third Monday / September, '24

Hello! Third Monday posts are monthly, more incidental, personal, and situational updates on Greatheart’s Table, on my life in general, and on the possibilities and circumstances of ministry. I hope you read through and let me know what you think at randy@greatheartstable.com or in the comments below.

I

I was pleased to offer the Greatheart’s Table space last week to a friend and fellow-pastor Adam Tisdale. I hope you enjoyed hearing a different voice. When multiple voices saying similar things are joined, it creates harmony, and harmony can be more pleasing than mere melody. If you’ve not checked out Adam’s Substack, I encourage you to do so. He makes me smile, but not at him. He helps me see the things around me that are put there for my joy. I frequently, as in all the time, need that encouragement.

II

While on the theme of harmony, of multiple voices, there are those, particularly my daughter, who have been urging me to get other voices onto the podcast through interviews. The idea both excites and intimidates me, but I’m pursuing it and hope to be able to release something on fifth Mondays.

Careful readers will notice that a fifth Monday is but two weeks out. 

I was making good progress and was pumped for this. I had arranged some wonderful guests, we had a delightful conversation, and I was looking forward to sharing their thoughts with the world.

Doing so would have been easier to pull off had I pressed ‘record’ before we began talking.

Behold the beginning of a brilliant podcasting career.

It was a magnificent failure which, hopefully soon, will be corrected. My guests were gracious and have agreed to a followup conversation. Stay tuned!

III

I have been puzzling over what to call this interview oriented podcast feature. So may appropriate names have already been used. I’ll probably settle for something ordinary and borderline boring like “Greatheart’s Table Conversations.” I’m open to suggestions. 

I told my wife what I wanted to call it was something like “Rainy Day People around Greatheart’s Table.” She nixed it as being too obscure, too long, and too, well, weird. 

The line comes from a Gordon Lightfoot song:

Rainy day people always seem to know when it's time to call.
Rainy day people don't talk, they just listen 'til they've heard it all.
Rainy day lovers don't lie when they tell 'ya
they've been down like you.
Rainy day people don't mind if you're cryin' a tear or two.

The world could do with more rainy day people, it seems to me.

I’ve learned it’s never wise to go against Barb’s instincts. But still . . . .

IV

As I type this, I’m overlooking the fifth fairway of the Apple Valley Golf Course in Lake Lure, North Carolina. I was gifted a week here by some generous friends for the purpose of study and writing. It’s been a wonderful time to both work and rest, and to reconnect with the ways in which God has been remarkably kind to me. Grace is indeed amazing.

This appears to be a beautiful course, but I’m not a golfer. I am a runner, however, and that paved trail for golf carts shouted, “Come run on me!” And so, when there were no golfers in sight, I did. Non-golfer as I am, I’m not well versed on golf course etiquette. Apparently I overstepped.

I promise that I did not see the sign until the end of my second run.

V

I’ve wanted to write some words about reading and the pastoral life. I’ve sketched lots of notes and so someday I will get around to it. But until then, I commend an essay to you, a portion of which I copy here to whet your taste:

In a word, reading partakes of the Sabbath because reading is non-utilitarian. Like poetry, in Auden’s line, it “makes nothing happen.” It is the opposite of activism. It is a mortal threat to the anxious soul of the busybody, the savior of his parish, the CEO of his congregation, the leader without whom the world would fall to pieces.

You can read the whole here. Thanks to friend Jeb Ralston for the link.