With this post I begin a series of writings that I mentioned in my last post.  It is my anticipation and intention that this series will continue for several weeks as I continue my struggle with issues of fear and uncertainity within the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) as well as other denominations.

First, however, I feel a need to establish some background that communicates portions of the journey that have brought me to this point.  An important part of that journey includes the situation that surrounded my birth and early years – in my beginning.

I was born in a home in the midst of the Cookson Hills in the northeastern corner of Oklahoma in the tiny town of Bunch surrounded by Native Americans who significantly impacted my earliest years.  The home was next door to the little mission church where my mother’s parents served as missionairies on behalf of the Methodist Church (before it was the United Methodist Church).

It seems important to describe four people at this point in time who set a foundation of life that still is largely responsible for who I am and what I believe.

First – my grandfather – George Warren Wattenbarger – still known in that part of the world as “Doc” Wattenbarger – a practitioner of both medical healing and spiritual healing.  More will be told about that in future posts.

Second – my grandmother – Edna LaVaughn Sargent Wattenbarger – without a doubt the most influential person in my life during my early years.  We believe that she was the first woman ever licensed to preach by the Oklahoma Conference of the Methodist Church.

My mother – Doris Eujean Wattenbarger Mitchell – a true paradox for me.  She always did whatever might be necessary – often at the expense of her health – to provide for me and – starting when I was in the fourth grade – my grandmother – but – often I realized that much of her love for me was a result of the musical things that I could do more than for who I really was.

My father – John Thomas Mitchell – a father that I never knew and that I remember seeing only two or three times in my life – all of them when I was too young to ever have any connection with him.

Yes that is how I was named – my father’s middle name, Thomas, followed by my mother’s middle name, Eujean which was changed to Eugene.

Other significant influences included Sister Ellis, two gentlemen named Walking Stick and Roasting Ear, the local postmaster, my cousins in Tulsa, and the Kansas City Southern Railroad where I watched for the northbound and southbound Southern Belle passenger trains to speed through every day on the tracks that were directly between the church and house and the general store and post office which were on the only two streets through Bunch – neither of which were paved in those days.

I close this post but I look forward to coming posts with great anticipatioin, and I very much hope that you will join in the conversation with me.

Grace and peace