Not long after college graduation, I had the amazing privilege of working at the Georgia Institute of Technology as the Spirit Coordinator. Now, even though I had been called to ministry in High School, this was NOT that kind of Spirit Coordinator. It was school spirit, I was the cheer coach for the award winning Tech cheer squad, Buzz the nationally recognized mascot and faculty advisor for the Ramlin’ Reck Club. The students I got to work with were brilliant engineer types. When I was coaching, I needed a translator. You see, I was a liberal arts graduate, and they were electrical, mechanical, and all things technical, math, and science super smarties (who would graduate and make almost 6 figures even in the late 1980’s). I would give instruction and they would just stand and look at me. Then one of the girls on the squad, who was an English Major (yes at GT), would translate what I said into Tech-eze and they would say, “oh okay!” and quickly do what I had tried to ask. The ‘Reck Club students held charge of the School’s Mechanical Mascot, a 1930 Model A Sport Coupe called the Ramblin’ Reck. It had been donated to the school by my boss, Dean Dull, almost thirty years before. This glistening, gold painted, metal mascot was as popular as the award winning, and rambunctious Buzz the Yellow Jacket, appearing at school promo events and the weddings and celebrations of influential Georgia Tech alumni. Buzz, is a whole other story, once stealing the television network truck on the sideline with the camera operator holding on for dear life, and driving it down the track before being stopped, where he narrowly escaped being unmasked. There was a reason why the infamous bee earned his nickname, Buzz… apparently the young man who donned the original mascot suit a decade before would sometimes imbibe in some inhibition eliminating beverages before the game. The young men and ladies who wore the outfit in subsequent years were amazing athletes, sometimes losing 10 + pounds just sweating in the Atlanta heat while running around, crowd surfing, and involving themselves in all kinds of sideline mischief. Perhaps the incident that could have potentially been my greatest public faux pas during my time at Tech involved the Ramblin’ Reck. It was December and all the kids were exhausted from final exams and a grueling class load. So, those who would normally take the antique car to the Ford plant for repairs, were headed home for the holidays. So, yours truly, had to borrow a school van, and hitch the covered car carrier on the back. The Reck was not running at the time, so with no Reck Club or Cheerleader muscle to push it into the trailer, I had to use the tie down, hand winches to ratchet it up the ramp and into place. As soon as I got the van and trailer onto interstate 75/85 in downtown Atlanta just past the Varsity, I knew there was trouble. The van sputtered and died, before I could get it to the next exit. I was left there in the middle of 6 lanes of standstill holiday traffic and this was before cell phones were accessible to people on a Student Affairs coordinator’s budget. A police officer politely came to my door and screamed, “get this $#!) out of here!” While I was trying to explain I needed him to radio a wrecker, Atlanta’s finest walked away, spewing over his shoulder, “I don’t care, get it out of here NOW!!” My only remedy was to leave the cursed van and vulnerable, but covered Reck sitting there, dodge the traffic, and pray neither me nor the Institute’s invaluable icon got hit, (though the school would probably not mourn for my loss like it would their beloved car). I climbed up the interstate’s hexagonal block walls, tried to find a pay phone, but ended up running several blocks back to the maintenance department and getting another van. The 'Reck had been vandalized a few times in the past, once while it was in my hometown at Neyland Stadium, at the University of Tennessee, after GT had beaten the Vols. It apparently got a new unwanted orange paint job. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for another incident. There were Tech hating, Georgia Bulldog fans who would love to know that the 'Reck was sitting helplessly incapacitated in the middle of the interstate. With the next van, I scotched the wheels, rolled the other van forward, and maneuvered the next van into position to hitch the trailer. I got the other van towed, and I finally got the Ramblin’ Model A to the Ford plant safely. I was young and so arrogant at the time, you would think that this incident would have humbled me a bit… nope. “Large and in charge,” I was destined for more humbling, until God got my attention and headed my life back toward him again.
God The Father loves us too much to let us remain in our rebellion against Him. Scripture says that good fathers discipline the children they love. In Hebrews (12:7), the Scriptures tell us to endure hardship as discipline. When we belong to Him and identify as one of His, He will allow things to happen to us to get our attention. He humbles, disciplines, corrects, and changes us. God’s people, Israel, had turned away from God in their arrogance and God was getting their attention. The prophet Jeremiah humbly asks, “I know, O LORD, that a man’s life is not his own; it is not for man to direct his steps. Correct me, LORD, but only with justice— not in your anger, lest you reduce me to nothing.”(Jeremiah 10:23–24 NIV) When we are experiencing hardship, it is sometimes God's discipline, let it turn us toward Him to ask for His direction and correction.
Hang in there people! God is glad to be with us! I’m praying for us all!
