Louise Carter-Ping - A Blessing to All

Louise Carter-Ping          

This morning, August 10, Vicki and I attended the memorial service for a long-time friend. We knew her best as Louise Carter, even though later in life she remarried and became Louise Carter-Ping. Today is our 46^th wedding anniversary and we have known Louise (and her first husband Myron) for 43 of those 46 years!

We first met Myron and Louise Carter at Westside Christian Church, which back in 1976 was a thriving neighborhood church on the corner of Dodson Drive and Ben Hill Road in East Point, adjacent to the campus of Atlanta Christian College where Vicki and I had come to teach after completing advanced degrees in Cincinnati.

My professor-hero Jim Evans had become the pastor of Westside Christian Church and I knew I could be encouraged by the “meat of the gospel” that one experienced when Jim preached. Vicki and I both grew up going to Sunday School so we accepted the invitation of Dr. Bob Weaver, at that time on the administrative staff of ACC, to attend his class. Myron and Louise and a host of other great, seasoned disciples were a part of that class. That’s where we met them.

Little did I know that Dr. Weaver’s real motive for inviting us to the class had something to do with wanting me to help him in the teaching rotation. I was honored to be asked by such an outstanding preacher and honored to be accepted by such an incredible group of believers. Many people in that class have been life-long friends and influencers in our lives.

Myron and Louise sort of adopted Vicki and me as a young married couple starting a new venture in life. They invited us to dinner in their home. They invited us to go to all kinds of events with them. Myron was a lover of organ music (as am I) and of course that was right down Vicki’s world of preferences. We went to more than a few concerts with them. They treated us as though they had raised us.

Louise invited Vicki to become a part of the East Point Women’s Club, which at the time was a pretty influential group of women learning to deal with and address the changing landscape of southside suburbs in metro-Atlanta. It was a great experience for Vicki and I was privileged to attend some pretty good dinners myself.

When our daughter Sarah was born, Louise went out of her way to be helpful. When our daughter Bethany was born, Louise insisted that we call her when we were headed to the hospital and she would take care of Sarah. That we would trust Louise with Sarah says all that needs to be said about how much we valued our friendship. So one morning around 4:00, I called Louise and said, “Can you come get Sarah?” She did. We headed to Northside Hospital and soon Sarah had a sister!

Louise was always very interested in our children. Any of you reading this who are parents know that when other adults, especially not related to you by blood, show the kind of affection for your children that Myron and Louise showed for our children, you have a friend beyond measure.

Life of course moves on. Myron died in 1997, and Louise asked me to speak at his funeral, but I already had a commitment to speak at the funeral of Otis Burnett, our across-the-street neighbor in East Point. The Burnetts, Otis and Chris, were like another set of parents/grandparents to Vicki and me and Sarah and Bethany. In her ever-gracious way, Louise insisted that I not try and change that funeral time so I could do both.

It was a little more difficult to keep in touch with Louise once we moved to Tyrone, became so involved in First Christian of Tyrone, ACC – soon to become Point University, and a host of other things that happen as we grow older.

We attended the 90^th birthday celebration for Louise. It was a wonderful time of catching up.

To show what good taste Louise had, she and I visited the same salon. She got her hair “fixed,” I got my hair cut. On several occasions we happened to be there at the same time. I hate getting my hair cut – not sure what that’s all about – but on those occasions when Louise and I were there at the same time – it was my favorite part of the day! She did that to most people.

When we were at Westside back in the mid-to-late 1970s, various teams of ladies prepared the “Wednesday night fellowship meal” that happened before Bible study. Louise and her friend Sylvia Rice were one of those teams. Their specialty dinner was roast beef, gravy, mashed potatoes, and green beans. That was accompanied by a nice roll and desert.  Their gravy was to die for.

I was privileged to eventually be enough of an insider to Louise that she told me about the secret ingredient to the gravy. Back in those days, that secret ingredient could get you kicked out of church! But I’m not lying when I say that few restaurants in Atlanta could match their roast beef and gravy! Glad they took the risk.

Louise lived to be 97. In those years she not only experienced the death of her parents and her parents-in-law, but her first husband, Myron, both of their children, and her second husband, Chet. Her faith was amazingly strong – and despite the hurt of losing loved ones, she never faltered in her commitment to follow Jesus.

At her service this morning, Jim Bell, minister of music at Peachtree Christian church in Atlanta, sang a beautiful hymn written and composed by Natalie Sleeth. The title of the hymn is “In the Bulb There Is a Flower.” The last stanza is especially moving:

In the end is our beginning:

In our time, infinity;

In our doubt there is believing,

In our life, eternity.

In our death, a resurrection;

At the last, a victory.

Unrevealed until its season,

Something God alone can see.

Bob Tyler, Louise’s long-term adopted son and pastor, along with her niece JeRei Wilson, both said some amazing things about the accomplishments of Louise’s life. It was refreshing to be reminded of the life this ordinary saint lived. Especially as a woman at the time when she had so much influence.

I cherish that such a person was our friend – and even more that despite such great accomplishments in life, she treated my family like her family!

Thank God for ordinary saints. Help us, God, to be more aware that they surround us.