The Rabbit Hole

How an ordinary family dealt with hard times.

Bill Whaley

The economy grows worse by the day. Wall Street is struggling, and jobs are a precious commodity . People are losing their homes. Peace of mind is a scarce commodity. Daily stress affects families everywhere.

I have a story to illustrate the reason I submit this article. Once, while living in Tacoma, Washington, my friend and I played by the creek running through our neighborhood. We were about 8 years old and ignored a fire someone had built to burn off some leaves. The fire spread and blocked our way back home. Ducking my head, I raced through the flames lining the path and stood safely on the other side. My friend’s parents and I tried to encourage him to follow, but he was afraid. Then, I remembered a rabbit-hole in the bushes twenty yards or so upwind of the fire. I ran to the entrance of the tunnel in the underbrush and hollered for my friend to crawl out that way. Within minutes, he emerged scared but safe. Saphronia and I have been through the flames and consider ourselves now safe on the other side. The following story tells what it felt like, and describes what we did to get where we are.

They say the subjects in college you should never major in are Religion, Psychology, Communication and Art. Choose an engineering or business major instead. Unfortunately for me, my interests lie in religion and psychology. Therefore, I became a preacher in the late 1970s. My first two ministry jobs lasted a year and two months, total. I found myself with a wife and new baby, extensive medical bills, credit card debt, relocation expenses and school loans. Five years of college and graduate school had placed me in the unemployment office. Life was fun. A lot like it is today for many families in our recession economy.

When you’ve been kicked out of two jobs in just over a year, your confidence and self-esteem take a tumble. A Bible degree isn’t very marketable outside of the ministry, so job offerings tended to include work in manufacturing, oilfield, clerical, and (for the particularly brave), private school education. The latter tested my nerves and resolve even more than the winter spent outdoors in the oilfield industry. My oil industry work involved loading and stocking well casing in a pipe yard, often working in five or six inches of snow and ice. After a semester of teaching eighth graders, I almost longed for the oil field, much in the way the Israelites in the desert longed for Pharaoh’s slavery stew back in Egypt.

To this day, I hate phones. The phone rang constantly. Everyone wanted their money now, and the paychecks only went so far. Our two meager incomes didn’t add up to my former ministry salary, and child care had to be added in. We discovered first hand how persistent, creative and downright mean collection agents could be. It seemed that every minute, the phone rang with someone demanding that we reassess our finances. We avoided bankruptcy by going with Consumer Credit Counseling, a United Way agency supported by local businesses. They were very helpful. The phone stopped ringing, and we could finally see an end to our oppressive debt. This came at a price: our credit rating took a serious beating which haunted us for years. The first year or two there was no problem. With no money, we couldn’t buy anything, so we didn’t feel the crunch.

I finally returned to the ministry and found a small church in northwest Oklahoma. The salary was tiny, and our financial situation was further challenged by our decision not to have Saphronia work outside the home. There was little left over for savings, and the situation was complicated by the booming oil economy prevalent in that time. This inflated the cost of housing, and the church lacked a parsonage. We needed a car, as my old one died a boiling, premature death as a result of loaning it. The bad news was that we no longer had credit, had no money and no trade-in. I patched up a succession of high-mileage oil burners until we finally got a high interest loan on an Escort hatchback.

With all the hardship, one would be tempted to be bitter. However, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves in that small church. Preaching, teaching, helping people and serving in community affairs proved an ideal fit, and our church showered us with love and encouragement. This was the work we were meant for and we threw ourselves into it with enthusiasm. Unfortunately, the job didn’t last. The oil economy went bust, and contributions dropped off. We would have stayed except that as support dropped, the church was forced to drastically cut our salary.

I learned from that experience that preachers need training they don’t get in college. I missed the courses in common sense and smart money management while studying Bible and Hebrew. Rents were high in town and rent houses scarce, so we had secured a 20% loan on a new mobile home once our credit improved. At the same time, we purchased a broken down station wagon for use as a church van. This provided all the ingredients for a perfect storm, financially speaking.

Once it became evident that a replacement ministry job would not become available, I decided to retrain, something I should have done years ago. Unfortunately, we had taken advantage of too much readily-available high interest credit. As if that weren’t enough, we added this sin to it all: we moved our mobile home to a trailer park in Oklahoma City, at considerable cost. Once again, Saphronia and I were unable to replace my ministry income in the workforce, so we exchanged sad, knowing looks when the phone began ringing again. Collection agencies in the 80s seemed only to grow in cruelty. One of them convinced me he was a lawyer, about to sue me for my credit card debt. I panicked and gave him my car payment money, ruining my credit once again.

The situation grew worse by the day. Our utilities were cut off, and we fell behind in our mortgage payments. It was impossible to resume grad school, and we descended into hopelessness. Our pattern of unwise decisions proved costly. Had community counseling been available, we might have learned to invest in schooling to retrain instead of spending our money on high interest loans for cars and a home. As our finances worsened, I added to my problems by lashing out in anger at the collections manager. He had called, demanding I come in person to make a mortgage payment, which I had actually sent earlier that week. I had, it turned out, entered the wrong zip code, so the payment was delayed. As I argued with “Mr. Hardcase,” I was preparing to attend the funeral of a friend. Billy Miller was one of thirteen mail carriers in Edmond murdered by Patrick Sherrill in August of ‘86. I was in no mood to argue with a creditor. I hung up on him, and called the bank to stop payment on my check. Within a week, we found a rent house and moved out of our home.

This credit beating took eight years to overcome. We never faced quite the crisis we had in the mid-seventies, although we did face a scary situation with the IRS. They levied our checking and savings accounts. The intervention of an angry church elder in Senator Don Nichols’ office rescued us. We ended up bloodied but still able to pay the rent. We moved a half-dozen more times through the years. Once, in Arkansas, we got caught with a new mortgage on a home—our first home purchase in years--and were forced to resign. Our credit rating took one more hit, after finally recovering from foreclosure exile. And, we were so close to financial security. Saphronia had just gotten a full scholarship to nursing school. Our eldest was excited after his acceptance into a Christian college. We took menial jobs once more so our son could graduate High School and Saphronia could begin nursing school. But creditors want their money, and we had to move once again.

This time, we applied lessons learned. The housing economy was booming in that part of Arkansas, so our house sold immediately. We followed our son back to Oklahoma City and secured a youth ministry there. We invested our home equity into a CD, and borrowed against it to pay off our creditors. Saphronia transferred her nursing credits to a new school and doggedly pursued her education until she graduated. In a few years, we were able to buy another home. I sought out a ministry position that allowed me to return to graduate school, and earned a Master’s degree in Counseling. My schooling confirmed something in me I had long suspected. My favorite population to serve was at-risk adolescents. I soon found joy with helping troubled kids and their families.

If you’ve spent a lifetime making bad decisions, you might value a good counselor. However, many people fear counselors. They seem to do little good. We don’t value their advice, and stigmatize the counseling profession. Some of us, fortunately, learn to listen to the voice of experience.

Here, from the school of experience, are some lessons learned, (in no particular order):

1-Don’t buy a Honda Civic with a bumper hitch. Or any used car with a hitch on it, as it develops. The car has been over-stressed and over-used, and you get nothing but headaches and repair bills. It’s a no-win situation, an untenable position. In the same way, when searching for a job, try to avoid untenable positions. While expecting our first child, with no insurance, we were desperate to continue graduate school. The church I found within driving distance had turned over three preachers in two years. If you’re expecting a child and have no insurance, you might not make the best decisions. If the turnover rate at the workplace where you are applying looks like a revolving door--keep looking. You are better off working part-time at Wal-Mart than getting yourself into an untenable position.

2-Health insurance is important. Get some. Sell your car if you have to. Try to find a job with health insurance benefits. Lack of it took me out of graduate school, and put us into poverty for years. Thirty-seven years ago when Saphronia and I married, we got by without health insurance because a doctor’s office call was only $6. Surgery and medical care were still costly, however. When our firstborn arrived, we found ourselves in debt. We got off easy: lack of health insurance put my mother in the cemetery at the age of 53.

3-Double major while you’re in college, if you can. The average worker will change jobs a dozen times. It’s a good idea to cross train. If you can’t move up, add to your skill set so you will be able to make a lateral move if your job gets outsourced or eliminated.

4-Don’t be afraid to seek the services of a good counselor or life coach. Modern counseling had its beginnings in career counseling. If your employment history begins to resemble Swiss cheese, it’s likely you’ve not found your career fit. A life coach can help you discover your strengths and aptitudes, and can often guide you through the re-training maze. My favorite resource these days is Dick Boilles’ “What Color is Your Parachute?” www.jobhuntersbible.com. He forces you to do a bit of soul searching, but gives hints on job searching, filling out applications, interviewing and re-training for career changes.

5-Keep your family before you. The kids are only with you for an instant, in the grand scheme of things. Be intentional parents. When searching for a job, when moving to a new neighborhood, keep your children in mind. Try to provide a safe environment where they can grow. How I tried to be an intentional father was by staying in town after being forced out of my ministry job so my son could finish High School where he had gone for four years. We stiff-armed collectors--had experience at it by this time--and did without so we could see him walk across that stage. If you’re working too many hours to see your kids, to know what they are thinking and feeling, and who they run around with, it’s time to re-prioritize. Sell some stuff. Give up meals out. Gather around your own table, with your kids. The rewards? Kids who are a little more insulated from unhealthy influences. Big, fully grown sons who hug your neck. Daughters who light up when you enter the room. Grandchildren who light you up when they come into your living room.

6-Keep your spouse before you. You need each other. The kids need you both. Form a united front for them. Prosperity fades, good times roll away. Love is supposed to last forever. Make it. Work at it. Carve time out for each other. Go on dates, even if it’s only for a McDonald’s ice cream cone. The odds are against marriages these days. Defy the odds. Treat each other with kindness, respect and affection. Give back rubs. Serve one another. Rub one another’s feet. Listen to each other. Speak words of support and encouragement to your spouse. Read good books on marriage. Attend marriage enrichment events at churches. (We found the latter costly. Every time we attended one of these seminars, one of our children got sent to the emergency room. Someone down there didn’t want our marriage enriched. We went to one of them every year or two anyway.) Divorce is costly and is a leading cause of poverty. Even if your financial condition is weak, if your marriage is strong, you have a good chance of improving things if both of you are working together at it.

7-Learn to laugh at hardship. Once I was driving the kids to school in our old “hooptie.” The car would only go if the gas pedal was floor-boarded, and was best driven while angry. All it had was an AM radio. The kids had missed the bus and I was time-stressed and moody. Then, through the static, the oldies channel played the Beach Boys “409”. Laughing, we sang along “She’s real fine, my 4-0-9, she’s real fine my fooour ooooh niiiine” in our broken down Civic with the bumper hitch. Face it, life is absurd, and those who can identify and laugh at absurdity have true resiliency in difficult times.

8. Keep the Lord before you. When things get hard, when your 401K disappears and the layoff axe at work falls indiscriminately, keep the Lord in front. When sickness comes and medical bills mount, keep the Lord in front. It was hard for us to keep going to church during the bad times. My friends from college eyed us sympathetically. Yet, I taught Sunday school while slaving in the oilfield. Sometimes I sat down to lunch at work with bikers and brawlers, and sat with my family in church the next Sunday. We wondered how people kept their sanity and serenity without help from the Lord. My dad was fond of quoting Psalm 37:25, “I have been young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken nor his seed begging bread.” He survived the Great Depression as the youngest of ten children. His good arm was ruined in a farming accident when he was a teenager. He somehow made his way in the workforce, taking whatever jobs he could find. His faith in God’s promises never wavered. You might grow angry at God when things get hard, and hanging on to faith might seem paradoxical. But we kept our faith, even when we were angry. This didn’t mean God gave us an ending like the one in Job, where he received back twice his wealth and saw the birth of ten new children. I doubt we will be able to retire, with our oppressive school loan debt. I love my job counseling children and their families, but it’s not much of a wealth-building career. We still make financial mistakes. If Dave Ramsey hears about the way we manage money, he’ll likely send hate mail.

You can measure prosperity in different ways, however. Our children are all college educated, married and have jobs and children. In that order. (Well, most of them, anyway. The youngest married young and gave us our first grandchildren while he was still in college.) None has yet had to move back home, however. They have each faced challenging times, but seem able to weather the storms. They had all the experience they needed in dealing with financial hardship while living with us.

Perhaps prosperity means being able take the grandkids to the circus. We can even buy them gifts, something we couldn’t have done twenty-five years ago while raising their parents. We now drive late model cars, one of them paid for. Our Christmas tree looks over mounds of gifts--there were years when it didn’t. For the past decade, we’ve owned our own home--something never possible in the days of job-hopping. Even though we are still financial dunces, we seem to get along. God’s hand is in all this somewhere. He takes care of the birds and the bird-brains among His people. Put your trust in the Lord and He will see you through.

One of my childhood heroes was Robert Johnson, a fighter pilot during WW II. He grew up in Lawton and was assigned to fly the Republic P-47 Thunderbolt in Europe. The Thunderbolt was an especially rugged airplane. Its huge engine propelled it over 400 mph. It was heavily armored, and carried eight .50 caliber machine guns. It was a deadly weapon against both the Luftwaffe in the air and the Wehrmacht on the ground. In his book “Thunderbolt!” Johnson describes one of his early experiences with the Luftwaffe. Seeing a German fighter squadron beneath him, he peeled off to attack. He blasted two German ME 109s from the sky, but then discovered he was all alone. Outnumbered, his Thunderbolt came under vicious attack. Cannon shells pounded the aircraft, blinding him with hydraulic fluid. His guns were shot out, and his canopy jammed. There was no running away or bailing out. He could only maneuver his aircraft violently as he dodged German fighters. Finally, with his engine smoking and missing and his plane shot full of holes, he found his enemies gone and limped back to England. He made a safe landing and lost count of the bullet holes in the Thunderbolt. He flew three more to victory by the end of WW II. After the war, he went to work for Republic, the maker of his beloved Thunderbolt.

That’s how I feel toward God. He carried me through a horrific childhood with alcoholic stepfathers. I suffered serious injury and the death of a younger brother in a car wreck. I changed households and endured my high school years living with a bipolar stepmother. The Lord brought us through hardship and difficult work situations in and out of the ministry. We can live with poverty and hard times. Paul said “I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.” I might limp from my injuries when I walk and we might stagger under school loan debt, but we’re still here together.

You can certainly find good financial advice from the experts. You can read Gary Smalley and Kevin Lehman and get good relationship and childrearing advice. No doubt you can survive worse hardships than we have and end up financially comfortable in the end. But if our story offers some help and comfort to those who struggle with family and finances, it will be well worth the effort expended in writing it. Keep smiling, laughing,

and praying.

and praying.

Saphronia and Garth

My wife got to have her picture taken with Garth Brooks! She is so excited! how cool is that?

Flat-nosed mood elevators

I watched them pass from room to room. They eyed curious onlookers with curious glances of their own. They spread cheer everywhere they went. It’s hard to be in a bad mood around a Shih-Tzu. One of them reminded you of an Oreo Cookie with his black and white markings. The other had uncharacteristically curly hair for a Shih-Tzu. He had a tan coat.
Shih-Tzus are a comical breed. Long bodied, long haired, flat muzzled dogs, they hardly inspire fear. Yet, these dogs were bred to protect the palace. They can be fierce, in their cutesy, ankle-biter sort of way. My Shih-Tzu, Sassy, gets aggressive whenever she has puppies. Reach for one of the ankle-biter’s cute little flat-nosed pups, and you just might draw back a bloody stub. Or at least a sore finger.
If you have one of these dogs, you begin to wonder if the new “politically correct”designation of pet owners as “pet custodians” is closer to the truth. Demanding animals, these brats leave claw marks on the back porch door whenever I come home, or get up in the morning, or merely look as if I might be thinking of stepping outside. They live for their walks. I need the walk in order to maintain my health, so a partnership is formed. It’s a mutually beneficient partnership. They pace me and insure I take a good 30-minute walk, and in payment for that I put up with the smirks and comments about how “cute” my dogs are. Trying to keep my 6’5” frame from looking too much like the letter “b” means I must subject myself to ridicule at the hands, or paws of these high-maintenance pooches.
Therefore, I walk my Shih-Tzu and Pekenese. Yeah, I look silly, but a more “manly” dog like a German Shepherd would see the entire world, including me, as his chew toy. And you can’t walk a cat. Especially not into an eleven-year-old kid’s hospital room. Shih-Tzus are better at that job, give them that. Demanding brats they may be, they serve as good mood elevators.

I'd like the world to change

A common theme these days among the kids I'm seeing is that life is unfair, school is unfair, and in fact the world is just a stupid place. Everyone should change to accomodate me.
Years ago, Paul Faulkner and Carl Brecheen, both Ph D's from Abilene, wrote a series of family studies called, "Whatever Happened to Mom, Dad and the Kids?" In it, they subtitled a section, "The Trouble With Us is Me."
Think of it: You have a problem with someone else. Expect him or her to change? How will you make that happen? You can't force anybody to do anything. Best to change yourself. Become a more generous, understanding person. See if that doesn't begin to affect a change in the other person. It might not. Jesus changed 11 bickering disciples in the upper room by washing their feet. One of them ratted him out to the authorities. Eleven out of twelve times, changing and making yourself the servant to others worked.
Yes, there are limits to everything. Didn't say you had to be the doormat. But make the first step, and see if things improve.
That's all the wisdom I can come up with. Still learning. That's how it is.

Moving Day

It's 2:00 a.m. and the city of Rockdale sleeps. I'm disappointed to be coming home so late, but there was so much to do in Tulsa on the way south. Oh, how I miss those tree-lined streets in Rockdale! And kindly neighbors, who kept me supplied with garden tomatoes and peppers, figs and cucumbers! Yes, there will be good people in Claremore, but they won't have those wonderful Texas accents. It's no fun to tease someone who talks like you. They all hate the Longhorns there, too, so where's the fun in taunting UT?
I'm trying to take courses at OU in order to qualify for licensure. That's exciting, and scary. So is the counseling work I'm doing. I see some great kids who need encouraging and redirecting. And parents who need reassurance that their kids aren't broken, and that the family can heal itself, with God's help.
I get to work with super Christian people who share my passion for young people. It's all so wonderful. Oh yes, and only two hours away from our kids in Oklahoma City.
All this awaits once we get moved. Which I can't do while blogging. You friends from Rockdale who are reading this, know that I love you all and miss you terribly! Keep checking in; once we get moved and settled I'll try to post more often.

The Same ol' Same ol'

“How are you doing today?”
“Oh, the same ol’ same ol.”
While waiting for breakfast at the local fast food place, I engaged in people watching. Two of the working men greeted each other with the usual clichés. We don’t really want to know how we are doing, and most of us don’t feel like disclosing how we really feel. “The same ol,’ same ol’” is a universal statement of being. It can mean, “Nothing exciting ever happens around here.” Life is boring; its constant sameness numbs the senses. The writer of Ecclesiastes expresses his frustration with the sameness of life: “The sun rises and the sun goes down, and hurries to the place where it rises. The wind blows to the south, and goes around to the north; round and round goes the wind, and on its circuits the wind returns. All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full; to the place where the streams flow, there they continue to flow. All things are wearisome; more than one can express; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, or the ear filled with hearing. What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun.” –Ecclesiastes 1:5-9.
The same ol, same ol can also be a good thing. It means there is stability in life. We all like stability. We want the sun to keep rising and setting, if it ever stopped that would be very upsetting. We like a certain amount of sameness in life. Life has a rhythm; we get up and get dressed, go to work and go to bed at night. We look forward to the weekend, when we can relax and enjoy ourselves. We enjoy going on vacation, but towards the end we long to return to our own home and sleep in our own bed. The same ol’ same ol’ isn’t a bad thing at all.
Some people lead lives where everything is different every day. They wake up to a new world every day, where things constantly change. We call that chaos, and it is very upsetting. Give me my sameness, my assurance that God is in control and that life will retain its rhythms. Paul cries out to the pagans, “Yet he has not left himself without a witness in doing good—giving you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, and filling you with food and your hearts with joy.” –Acts 14:17. God blesses us with rhythms in life. You can call it the same ol’ same ol’ if you want, but it’s a blessing. It’s a rock to stand on—think Psalm 40:2 “He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.”
If everything is the same for you today, bless the name of the Lord. He’s given you stability and rhythm in life as a rock to stand on. Enjoy!

“For now we see in a glass, darkly . . .” –I Corinthians 13:12, KJV.
I’ve had these bifocals for several years now, but have had nothing but trouble with them. My distance vision is still excellent, and I only need them to read, so my temptation at first was to merely carry them around with me. I lost the first pair that way. Then, I got them scratched up by sticking them in my pocket. That’s how I supply myself with spare pairs. But I absolutely cannot stand smudges and scratches on my lenses, that are always in front of me, blurring my view of things.
I don’t like cracked windshields, either, but I can live with them. I can look around them and focus beyond the cracks. I see my life as being like a cracked windshield. Various life events, plus bad choices I’ve made and sins I’ve committed have put cracks on it. I try not to focus on these cracks. I want to focus on the road ahead of me and the scenery just in front of me. I refuse to let the cracks mar my perception of life. Windshield cracks are an ever-present annoyance, but I can live with them, because I can stop and get out from behind them and enjoy the view in front of me.
It’s good to do that in life. Occasionally, you need to stop and pray and meditate in order to get away from your absorption with self. Then you can more clearly see the road ahead, or the beauty that life holds just in front of you. You need to look at your blessings and pay attention to the good things in life—Philippians 4:8.
Paul had cracks in his windshield—persecution, sufferings and beatings for the cause of Christ. He details them in 2 Corinthians 11. One of his windshield cracks was his own sin. He acknowledged it—“Jesus Christ came to save sinners—of whom I am chief,” –I Timothy 1:15 KJV. But he didn’t make it his focus. Instead, he focused ahead on his goal of attaining the glory and power of Christ’s resurrection, Philippians 3:10-11. Paul absolutely would not have tolerated smudged eyeglasses, either, especially in regard to his faith-sight. “For we walk by faith, not by sight,” he wrote in 2 Corinthians 5:7. He was too focused on his goal of the “high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:14) to be distracted by smudges in front of him.
You may have cracks in your windshield because of sin or trouble in life. The trick is to get out from behind them now and then and take in the scenery that lies just in front of you. Looking up the road ahead, you need to see clearly the hope that lies at the end of the journey. It’s a beautiful thing, too pretty to be marred by annoying cracks.