Drinking in the Driveway
3 People Who Made Me a Better Pastor (without entering my church)
Well the man is like clockwork
When summer hits the street
Wearin' an old Skynard tank top two sizes small
Sweating in the heat
In his trusty old lawn chair
With his cooler by his side
He fires up a mule and surveys his domain
Through some seriously bloodshot eyes...
(Chorus)
Yeah he's drinking in the driveway
Ah, how time flies
When you're drinking in the driveway
- “Drinking in the Driveway,” by Michael Stanley on his 2007 “The Soft Addictions” album.
For three years, I didn’t know his name. He lived across the street in a small, aged ranch with a big old Lincoln in the drive. On summer days, he sat in a lawn chair, in an old muscle shirt, drinking beer from a can from the cooler at his side.
Becoming a Better Pastor Involves Facing Fear
Not only did I not know his name, but I was afraid of him. We moved to Harrison Township in 1999. Our bungalow home was two houses from some big lakefront homes sitting on Lake St. Claire. The street was home to working class people.
On a day I was leading a youth retreat, my Mazda 626 wouldn’t start. I opened the hood as if I would suddenly understand how the engine works. I prayed that God would suddenly start the engine. Instead, I “heard” God tell me to ask the guy drinking in his driveway.
Ernie: Jumps the Mazda and Shares fresh Zuchnini
Crossing the asphalt and walking up his gravel driveway was scary for me. I’m not sure what I thought might happen. I introduced myself and he said, “My name’s Ernie. Your car is dead. You want me to test the battery?”
Ernie1 got his tool kit out of the Lincoln’s trunk and tested the battery. Then he jumped the Mazda and told me to drive it to a garage to get a new battery.
After the new battery, I went over to thank him. He waved me off and offered me a beer. Not today, church retreat. He nodded and told me, “Good, the kids need it.”
For the next four years, he or his wife would drop off big, homegrown zucchini from their garden up north at the cabin. And we would talk on summer days when he was drinking in the driveway.
Ernesto: We Spoke the Same Language
We had been invited to work on a playground by this San Jose, Costa Rica neighborhood association led by a mid-60s guy named Ernesto who spoke no English to match my lack of Spanish.2 He had two wrist crutches to help him walk. Each night when we left, he slept in his Volkswagon Beetle to watch the supplies.
On the first day, we started digging post holes and mixing concrete to put in posts for a new chain link fence around the playset. We would move dirt, build forms, and pour a concrete sidewalk for new benches. When we were done 5 days later, mothers could roll their strollers on the sidewalk, enjoy the benches, and watch their kids play safely inside the new fence.
Ernesto greeted us on the second day with the news that some people tried to steal the fence posts and he gave chase. This was all shared by our college driver who translated the Spanish. The thieves had dropped the posts when Ernesto told them to. To me, Ernesto pointed to his Bug’s dash where a large shotgun rested.
We should keep working, he would keep the playground safe when we weren’t around. Ernesto’s lived passion taught me how love translates into action. People ask me how I could lead over 35 mission trips in 30 years of ministry. I share Ernesto’s passion.
Edwina: Miracle on the Mountain
On a free afternoon, we visited the Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument in New Mexico.3 We walked a mile up the trail, crossing the creek multiple times. At the top of the trail, we met the Ranger Edwina who gave us a tour of the cliff dwellings.
The Gila Cliff Dwellings were home to the Mogollon (Southern Ancestral Pueblo) people in the year 1200 AD as Phillip II founded the University of Parish and Genghis Khan was invading China.
We were getting ready to head to the vans when Edwina stopped us. She was excited and agitated. A thunderstorm was about to hit. We could not leave the dwellings as flash floods were possible…In 15 years she had never seen it rain. None of the Rangers knew what was about to happen.
The lighting bolt struck the cliff 100 yards across the stream valley. The thunderclap shook us all. Edwina cheered in awe. Then she started to cry. Her joy touched as all as the thunderstorm poured rain down into the valley beyond the cliff that sheltedred us.
3 People Who Changed Me
As a Christian pastor, I spend so much energy with church people. But these three showed me something new that made me a better pastor. Ernie blew up my prejudicial expectations. His generosity of spirit matters. Ernesto was a dignified man, not afraid to get serious when necessary to support his neighborhood’s wish to have a safe playground.
Edwina’s joy flowed in her tears. She was confident to show her true spirit with a bunch of teenagers she had never met when God brought a miracle to the mountain.
All three reflect the loving God who made them. I am better for having met them.
All three names have been changed.
Costa Rica Mission Trip 2014
Las Cruces Mission Trip 2013