Uncle Charlie

This morning I was reminded by a random circumstance, that involved my ever increasing use of a flashlight, of a man I respected very much. Indeed our youngest son is named after him. He left this world about thirty-five years ago. When Lozanne and I were first married, we rented for a three year period an upstairs apartment from Lozanne’s Great Aunt and Uncle, Delina and Charles. Both were characters worthy of a blog, but this morning Uncle Charlie, when he was in his mid-seventies, is on my mind. He was a very caring, intelligent and, let us say, prudent man. Others may have characterized him as overly cautious and a worrier. Since his personality was much like mine, especially as I age, I prefer to refer to him as wise and prudent.

It is fair; however, to characterize him as overly cautious about a few special situations. He was forever smelling the obvious odour of natural gas in his basement. He often called me down to confirm his suspicions. Even though I informed him that I could not smell gas, he inevitably called the gas company who always good-naturedly arrived almost immediately to perform yet another negative test for the presence of gas in the air. When the aging tenant of the back apartment stubbornly burned sugar in her oven to dispel what she termed as bad smells, he was certain that a fire had started in that apartment and would make a futile check of her unit each and every time. I suspect she enjoyed the attention. When I regularly came in late from my travels in order to gain university credits in distant towns, he would meet me in the wee hours of the morning by shining his flashlight in my car as I pulled up. Concerned about the wellbeing of Lozanne who was very much expecting and our eldest daughter, he was waiting there every Friday night, or should I say Saturday morning, for a whole semester. Every time he backed his 1955 blue Chevrolet out of the garage, he would honk his horn. This was not a short beep. Rather, it was a long sustained holding down of the horn in order to warn any walkers, of which there were very few, that he was backing up. Lozanne asked him repeatedly to cease and desist in the afternoon when the baby was sleeping. Despite a promise to do so, he could never bring himself to the point where he would not cause that long sustained blast of a very old fashioned and loud horn.

Uncle Charlie was in many ways very much like me or should I say I am much like he was. I am not quite so obsessive about certain situations, but I admit that I am fairly prudent. Indeed I have admitted in the past in this blog my propensity to worry. Jesus tells us in the New Testament that worry is futile. I was very interested the other day to find the same advice in the Old Testament. In Isaiah 8: 12-13 we find the words.

12 "Do not say, ‘A conspiracy,’ Concerning all that this people call a conspiracy, Nor be afraid of their threats, nor be troubled.

13 The LORD of hosts, Him you shall hallow; Let Him be your fear, And let Him be your dread.

The Amplified Bible makes these two verses very clear by telling us not to fear what others fear and indeed we are not to cause others to fear. We are to reign in our worry and our paranoia. We are to regard God as our only hope of safety and security. We are literally to make Him our only fear, lest we offend Him by being fearful about situations in our lives. We have only one thing to fear in this life and that is not accepting a loving and gracious God. Personally, I understand from verse 13 that we can actually turn our worry over to a loving God who is more than willing to actually embody that worry by absorbing it, indeed actually soaking it up to remove it from us. Are you a worrier? Fear God (love and respect Him) and you can then forget the rest of your worries!

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