Chandler Creel

Christ was not essentially a teacher or lawgiver but a human being, a real human being like us. He does not want us to be just defenders of a certain teaching, but human beings, real human beings before God. Christ did not, like an ethicist, love a theory about what is good. Rather, he loved real human beings. He was not, like a philosopher, interested in what is “generally true,” but in what serves concrete real human beings. He was not concerned as to whether the maxims of an action could become the principle of a general law, but whether my present actions help my neighbors to be human beings before God. The point is not that God became an idea, a principle, a program, a general truth, a law, but that God became a human being.

- Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Tuebingen Alum

For Dad.

Journal entry: November 10, 2007

The day began early. 4:55 am. I awoke and quickly recalled why exactly I set my alarm so early. I was going hunting today.

Leland, Elizabeth, and Leland had joined me on my weekend off and weekend at home for my birthday. 23 years I have been on this earth and every year has gotten more complex and complicated than the previous. But, each year has also become better and seemingly more enjoyable that the prior.
After dressing in my camo, Leland and I followed Dad up the mountain. It felt nice to have my muscles burning in contrast with the 30-degree weather. Leland set up behind a medium sized oak tree, but my father and his only sun journeyed up the wooded mountain. A father and his son journeying together in a ceremony of primal proportion.

As he led me, I could only think of the fishing and hunting trips of our 23 years together. At age 5, he led me to Crow Lake somewhere around Winder to fish for catfish. He placed small pieces of yellow, artificial bait called ‘cheese balls’ on my hook, helped me cast, and wrapped his large arms around me as I fought for my little life against a 4 pound catfish.

Countless trips fishing in the marshes of Savannah. Watching him smoke cheap cigars to keep the bugs away. Having that sweet smell hang in the air like fog. It’s no surprise to see why I was so eager to buy my fist cigar. I wanted to be like my father.

Turkey hunting in middle school. Learning how to be somewhat stealthy as we listened for a gobble. I still think I might be able to call a turkey better than he can, though I wouldn’t have a clue without several lessons from him. He was proud when I got that hawk to come check us out after that beautiful hen call.
But, my dad taught me. He even taught my sister and me not to talk when fishing because it would scare the fish away. Thanks for that one. I didn’t figure out it wasn’t true until college, but it did keep Leah quiet. But, the point was taken and I plan to use it on my sons.

My father taught me so many things: how to pray, be a man of God, work on a car, and fix things around the house even if you don’t know exactly how. But, the morning of my 23rd birthday, he was leading me to face the wild and have my first hunt alone.

I climbed into the 2x4 tree stand in the darkness finding a comfortable position, and then raising my bow up to my grasp.

My dad asked, “You set?”
“Yes sir.”
“Okay, well I’m headed back to the house. Ill see you in a few hours.”
“Okay…thanks Dad.”

That ‘thanks Dad’ was more than a polite thank you for letting me use your bow and stand. That one ‘thanks’ embodied 23 years of helping me come to this point. Though he did not know it, I was thanking him for making me, tying my shoes, and placing band-aids on my scraped knees as a small boy. I was thanking him for whipping me with his belt and grounding me when I broke curfew by 2 hours. I couldn’t help but being truly appreciative that he has always, always been there. He’s been at every game in my athletic career and he’s always been a knock on the door or a phone call from Atlanta away. Ready and waiting to help me in any capacity. I have never, not once, doubted his love and I have never though about not loving him.

So there I sat in my father’s tree stand hoping to kill a deer and hoping to make my father proud. The hours went by and as I thought and prayed to my heavenly father, I listened and waited for the slightest disturbance in nature. As day broke, my body began to slow down, and I began to get colder and colder. As I started to shiver, I heard a distinct, sharp pounding on the fallen autumn leaves. I stood up, set my release on my bow and attempted to be motionless as possible. Four deer came from my right, walking directly to me. The largest doe I have ever seen led two spotless fawns and another large doe behind them. The lead doe stopped and looked directly into my eyes and I held my breath. She took 4 steps and looked me over once more. Finally, she discerned I wasn’t a threat and she moved behind the tree in front of me. My heart was pounding hard than it ever has before. I pulled back the bow. 70 pounds of pull, my adrenaline was bursting and I took aim at the last doe because I had no shot on the first. Looking through the peep, aiming with the small green light, I released. In less than an instance, blood splattered from the deer’s left side. The 3 other deer scattered and the recently wounded deer took off over the ridge and up the mountain. My heart felt like it might just explode out of my throat. I breathed.

“AHHHH-AH,” I screamed. “LELAND! I GOT ONE!”

Before I could climb down, Leland came sprinting up the mountain. My heart still pounded. We followed the blood trail, stopping at each drop and looked for the next. Up the mountain 200 yards laid dead my first deer. Beautiful sight I must say.

It took 30 minutes of leg-burning effort to pull the deer down the mountain through the briar and bramble. In the back yard, my slain deer lay and I knocked on the back door informing my father of my kill. My dad shook my hand, gave me a hug, and looked at me with complete pride and joy, the same way after a touchdown or a homerun.

I am so glad I killed that deer. I will enjoy the delicious meat it provided and I will enjoy telling the story for the rest of my life. But, by far, the greatest feeling was making my father proud. I know he’s always proud of me, but to make him glow with pride for his son was something special. In his pride of me, I hope to show him that he did a damn fine job raising me. He taught me what he thought I should know and I tried to hear his loving voice and make my life one to make him and God proud.

To my father, Bish Creel and to my heavenly father I say:
Father, I know I’m not perfect and I know you worry about me sometimes. I have made some bad mistakes, but I am trying to please you. I stand before you with an honest heart trying to understand you and follow the plans and dreams you have before me. I stand before you now as a MAN OF GOD.

Happy Father’s Day Dad. I love you.

One of the most common string of thoughts that come through my head these days are ones of my future, thoughts of Globalscope Germany. I have been looking toward Germany since my first scouting trip in the fall of 2006. I have known Germany is my future for almost two years. Now that the time is drawing nearer, thoughts, worries, fears, and prayers have become more frequent. For a while i worried what i was supposed to do in Germany, but then i gave up. I decided that my goal for right now is just to get over there. I'll show up and let God worry about the rest.

There are a few things that are certains though. Like what i have planned for the backyard of the house. First on the docket, and perhaps most importantly, we need a grill. We need a grill that puts all German grills to shame. I will have a grill that will help me make food that students will flock to. Of course, there is only one option. I need a Traeger (http://www.traegergrills.com/). Obviously, i won't be able to obtain one in Germany and shipping one over would cost me my monthly budget. So, the noblest of grillmasters, Randy Arrowood, helped me come up with a solution. He suggested that i build a grill and he'll sell me the electric smoking unit. Ah. Perfect. It's amazing when two Godly men seek a solution to further the kingdom of God.

Secondly, we'll need a brick oven and i will build it. And luckily, our very own team leader, Beth Jarvis, has experience in fresh bread making by working at Emory's campus ministry, Bread. We will also be able to use it for brick oven pizza and other baked good that need that taste one can only get from a wood burning, brick oven.

So, when you come visit me in Germany, i won't give you directions. Just get off the train, and follow your nose. Because when it comes to the most delicious, tender meats and the softest, most wheat-filled bread, people will flock to our ministry. It's like God is telling me, "If you build it, they will come."