Why Berea: Good Friday on Aisle 1

Almost three years ago, we converted our Master Bedroom into a living room and added a full apartment on to our home for my 64 year old parents.  While a bit young to be fully retiring, my dad had a massive heart attack about 8 years ago that left him severely disabled, leading to our decision to cohabitate.  My parents who had been living in Las Vegas for the past decade, are Thai, and if I had to be honest, there have been many moments over the last three years that I've wondered if this move was the right decision for them.  My mom has to drive 45 miles just to buy her favorite spices.  Dad's doctors and specialists are all in Richmond and Lexington.  There is no Thai community in Berea to speak of, unless you count Miss Wanpen who owns the local Thai restaurant.

And just when you least expect it, something so seemingly insignificant happens to confirm what you've known in your heart to be true all along.  My multi-cultural, multi-faith family is right where we are supposed to be.  This Good Friday evening, my mother returned home from her weekly grocery shopping at Wal-mart with this colorful cross clutched in her hands.  Mr. "James", the 80-something  year old, Berea local/front door greeter, who always tells my mom she is the most beautiful woman he's ever met, handed her this cross tonight.  He had noticed my mom in the store before, pushing my dad in his wheelchair, and he asked what had happened to my dad.  After my mom told Mr. James about my dad's heart attack, he reached into his pocket and asked her to give this cross to my dad.  He said that he had blessed it himself, and that he hoped it would help my dad get better.  And that is how my non-Christian, non-local, Thai mother celebrated her first Good Friday, witnessing first-hand, the true Gospel of love.  Right there at the entrance of our local Wal-mart.  Right here in Berea, Kentucky.  Right here where we belong.