I've been writing these little annual essays for a while. I do them primarily for myself and my family as a way of counting blessings and remembering people and events that seemed important. It is never intended as boastful, and certainly not for 2020. What a strange and humbling year.
The Year of the Haircut
When it comes to family, I might remember 2020 as the year of the haircut. The lockdown meant that Janice began cutting my hair in the backyard. Even though it was the first time I ever tipped my stylist with a kiss, my cuts were not the newsworthy ones. Those belonged to the grands.
As every mama knows, the transitional cuts, when the baby and little boy hairstyles are finally—reluctantly—snipped away, it is a big deal. Sam, now 13, entered the year with a cut in keeping with his advanced years and sophistication. Then Oliver and August got their epic hair clipped and restyled. And then Charlie joined the sartorial trend. I think they all look great.
Pen, our lone granddaughter, rocked new braids on the first day of school. Princesses can wear their hair however they want.
That’s what 2020 has pushed me to—celebrating the little things in life. Grand plans and adventures were postponed, then abandoned. We had planned 10 days in the Pacific Northwest during the summer, but 2020 had other priorities.
Riding Out the Virus
We all saw the Coronavirus coming. I remember in late February during the annual gathering The Snowmen in Colorado (12 guys and 24 smelly ski boots crammed into a three-bedroom condo), we were watching news about the outbreak in Wuhan. We all knew that somehow in our hyper-connected world the virus would find its way to our front doors. We saw it coming, yet we were still caught by surprise.
As 2020 draws to a closing sigh, it feels awkward to celebrate. There has been so much death and struggle, and the deaths and infection rates continue to climb. The vaccine gives us hope for a return to normal in 2021, but the virus is evolving. I believe masks and distancing will be a part of our lives for some time.
Yet this little essay that I write each year is intended as a celebration, a remembrance of God’s blessings, and special moments with family and friends. There was a lot about this year that I enjoyed, perhaps more than I should admit.
On the day before the lockdown in Georgia, Raymond Clark, Don Erwin and I set out on our motorcycles for a 300-mile loop through the mountains: Chattanooga to Blue Ridge, to Dahlonega, to Jasper, to Resaca, to Villanow, to Ringgold and home. The entire day had an eerie, pre-apocalyptic feel to it. The roads were mostly clear and stores closed.
We stopped in downtown Dahlonega. I had spent four days there back in January working on a project, and the differences were remarkable. In January, I watched LSU defeat Clemson in the national championship game in a lively restaurant off the square. During that week, hundreds of University of North Georgia students swarmed the area like ants with backpacks. Now, just eight weeks later, on this sunny day in March, no one was around. It was like a scene from The Omega Man.
In the less-risky days of autumn, when the infection rates were in decline, Raymond, Don and I set off again on our motorcycles. We spent five days in the mountains of Virginia and Northeast Tennessee. Traffic was light. We slept in near empty hotels. We ate outside at restaurants. We returned home safe, healthy and grateful.
Did we overreact? Did our leaders overreach, stumble and fail us? In hindsight maybe so, maybe some, but I can’t find fault with anyone’s confused decision-making at that time. Who knew what was really happening from one day to the next? We were all passengers on a leaky boat in a hurricane. Most everyone did their best with the information they knew and the limited understanding they had. Scientists are still struggling to understand this virus even now.
Among those making the tough early decisions were our church leaders. It’s been odd not meeting together regularly. Our church returned to limited live services back in the summer, and Janice and I attended a few of them. To be candid, we were bothered by so many sitting around us without masks, so most of our worship experiences this year have been online or in silent moments alone with God.
Living at a Slower Pace
More silence and less hurry have been among the gifts of 2020. I have enjoyed spending more time quietly reading scripture and other meaningful books. One of the books read this year was The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, a gift from my son’s family who have embraced the book’s teachings about Sabbath, real rest and balance. Before we all return to whatever normal is, let’s hope that book becomes a best seller. We all need more margin and quiet in our lives.
Janice and I have continued to lead our life group on Sunday mornings at 8:30. It's fun week after week to watch our friends pop into view in their little postage-stamp squares. In some ways we will miss the ease of Sunday mornings when we eventually return to a normal schedule. Thank you, friends, for your faithfulness.
Zooming To Work
This was the year for working from home. In March Joe Johnson, our leader at The Johnson Group, did the right and thoughtful thing and sent us all home with our laptops and a Zoom account. I’m sure some of my colleagues struggled a bit with the new routine, but for me it was nostalgic. From 1992 to 2007 I worked in my home office as the president, CEO, executive assistant, HR manager and errand boy for Stiles Healthcare Strategy. I am quite experienced with working in my PJs.
No summary of 2020 can be written without my sincere expressions of gratitude and admiration to Joe Johnson, Roger Vaughn, Mike Polcari, Pat Buckley, Alice Ailey, Spenser Kernea, and all the team at The Johnson Group for an incredible year of sacrifice, perseverance, protection, leadership and—let’s call it what it is—love for all of us who work with you. You not only brought us through a tumultuous year, you actually grew us, expanded our clientele and achieved new levels of excellence and impact. Considering all of its difficulties, 2020 has to be the greatest year in the history of the company. From a grateful team, thank you.
And I have to thank all those I have been blessed to work for during this crazy year. I might leave out someone important, but here goes, in alphabetical order: Amy Garner, Beth Downs, Chris Vaughn, Christine Gordon, Darrell King, Gregg Gentry. Jean Wenn Luce, J. Ed Marston, J.R. Ross, Kelly Mahan, Kimberly Biddy, Kristin Grace, Kitty Quinn, Lori Smith, Melissa Tymchuck, Sandy Tilley, Sean Couch, Steve Burkett, Taylor Hinton-Ridling, Tracy Vardeman, Vanessa Patrick, Dr. Will Jackson. Thank you for trusting me and my colleagues at The Johnson Group to work for your wonderful organizations, which have been the tip of the spear in this war on the virus. Thank you for consistently fighting this historic battle and sacrificing so much for our communities, neighbors and families.
And even though we don’t work together anymore, I have to give a shout out to Jed Mescon. I look forward to some breakfasts in the new year.
Speaking of persevering through a storm, I have to express my admiration for Clark Taylor and Jonathan Ingraham, my colleagues at Chattanooga Faith + Work + Culture. They’ve kept us going and growing while I’ve been MIA much of the year. Thank you guys, and I am sorry.
Little Bits of Normal
At the beginning of the pandemic, Janice I decided to cancel a long-planned trip to the beach. (Thank you VRBO for returning our money.) But in October we decided a trip to the beach was just what we needed, (Hey VRBO, here’s your money back.)
Janice and I have always loved the beach in October because it is cooler, quiet and less crowded. The beach in October in a pandemic year was cooler, but not so quiet. When schools are closed and people work remotely, families can go to the beach anytime they want. Everyone kept their distance and enjoyed the change of pace.
We also ventured out to Snowbird Mountain Lodge in July to celebrate our 49th wedding anniversary. We were joined by fellow anniversary celebrants Raymond and Jill Clark. The staff at Snowbird did an exceptional job making all of us feel safe and welcome. It was quiet, restful and sweet. Next year, Babe, our 50th! Let's get crazy and take our masks off.
In November, I made a dash of a trip down to Steinhatchie Florida to fish with Captain Danny Johnson, Keith Gray and Sam Burgess. We stayed in a place that was 180 degrees from Snowbird Mountain Lodge, but I felt safe there too. Few things make you feel more alive than landing a fat redfish on a sunny day.
Among the best times of the year were a few special times with our children and grandchildren. We were able to join Whit, Sarah and the children for a day at the Nashville Zoo. We had the children here a couple of times over the summer to hang out and go sliding in Renaissance Park. We joined Lesley, Daniel and the boys at their mountain retreat and also for a raft trip down the Nantahala River, where we somehow turned the gentle Lesser Wesser Falls into a near-death experience. Good times.
The year included the little blessings of fall baseball and a short Baylor basketball season for Sam. Charlie's last Normal Park School team won their championship. Oliver and August caught their first fish. We had one nice February snowfall. We took many long, pleasant walks around the neighborhood. My car was in the shop for two months but, in pandemic year, I did not need it (blessing). Yet I got it back in time to take Pen for a ride (double blessing).
One of the gifts of 2020 is that I learned less can be enough. A car trip instead of a plane ticket? Enough. Movies on Prime rather than the big cinema screen? Enough. Ten SEC football games? More than enough. Listening to iTunes rather than live music? Enough , , , for a little while.
God’s Grace
Janice had a run-in with the medical system this year—a large squamous cell cancer on her shin. It was removed in November, and as the year comes to a close, it is healing slowly, but well. We know that the Lord works through competent and compassionate people like Dr. Ben Dart, and we are grateful for them.
In May, grandson Charlie and a buddy had a horrifying bike wreck. High speed, no helmets. Two Chattanooga police officers and a neighbor with a nursing background saw it happen and rushed to aid. The pandemic meant Lesley was home and able to get to the scene quickly.
Without going into the medical details, let’s just praise God for his protection. It could have been a tragedy. It could have resulted in a long-term, life-changing injury and recovery. Thank you Jesus for protecting those boys.
The mystery of God protecting one person and not another, of protecting one life while another one passes away, is a stumbling block for some people. They question why God does not save everyone every time, and the fact that he doesn’t makes them angry.
I once heard a wise Bible teacher say that God protects us all, every time, until the one time he chooses not to. We all have an expiration date. God calls each of us to live as his children, as followers of Jesus his son. Then, on the day that we do pass away, we find that he is there in that moment too, loving us, protecting us, welcoming us home.
As the Curtain Closes, Gratitude
My prayer for 2021 is that we will all retain more focus on the things that really matter. I look forward to enjoying family and friends without fear. I hope I will be able to experience the blessings of the economy opening up without getting sucked into want and greed. I hope to experience corporate worship and communion once again with true joy and without the weight of pretense and obligation. I want to find the right rhythms of work, rest, productivity, leisure, service to others and nurture of self.
In bringing this essay to a close, I want to remember a few more names of people who poured blessings into in my life this past year. This is not an exhaustive list, and I know I am leaving out some critical names. But, in stream-of-consciousness order, a special thank you to Cliff, Donnie and Conner Stiles, Timothy Steakley, Micah Fries and Tracy, Haley Johnson, Allison Bryant, Jo Nowell, Tara Wood Waldrop, Michael Salley, Jonathan Hill, all of The Snowmen, Jim Gilliland, the Rollins, the Pannis (Ada and Joseph's wedding was a special start to the year), the Walkers, the Millers (even Savannah, who hates my beard), the Davises, the Hodgkins, the Lewises, the Flemings, the Halls, the Lenoirs, the Roszells, the Tanners, the Vincents, all the members of the our life group, Mike McElroy, Matt Gibson, Jeff Collier, Ben Edgar, the Swifts, the Betheas, the Jacksons, the Revenigs, the Whiteds, the Arnolds, Cam and Becky, Mike and Stephanie, Charlie and Cindy, John and Gale, Kevin Baggett, Brian Skinner, and Jordan Parker. Also Alexa, who keeps me company while I wash dishes.
I want to remember two of our oldest friends, the Dawsons. Janie passed away a few months ago, and now Steve is alone. He took care of her so faithfully for so long.
And to the young woman in the white Kia who stopped and helped me pick up my motorcycle after I fell over in a curve in Virginia, thank you. I don’t know your name, but you were an answer to a fast and fervent prayer.
Lord, thank you for carrying us through the past year. Thank you for the promise of your presence whatever happens in the year ahead.
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