My name is Dale Cook

        and this is my story...

I grew up in a middle class, Beaver County home. My father was steelworker and mom stayed home.  We attended church on Sundays and Sunday school on Saturday. In my early twenties, I began my professional career. I was having fun and church was an occasional thing – usually at Christmas. I also met Sherry, who I married. Soon after our marriage, my parents both died of unrelated illnesses. I was angry - at my friends, my wife and God.  I became cold, distant, and a religious dropout.

For a decade, Sunday mornings consisted of reading the paper and breakfast at The Hotdog Shop.  Life was good, but something was missing and we both knew it. Then a friend invited us to attend a new church he had joined, and we enjoyed it. I don't remember the message, but I do remember "getting it" for the first time in my life. It wasn't the same old readings and prayers I had memorized as a child and for the next three years we attended regularly. Yet, something didn't feel quite right. That same friend encouraged us to visit Orchard Hill and on Christmas Eve four years ago, we did. We loved it. We test drove it for a year, then officially joined. It was a big step and we felt good, but we still didn't feel completely connected. Sherry found a small group and began to meet people. My travel schedule was too erratic to consistently join a men's group – or so I thought. I was struggling.

This past August, I learned that Orchard Hill was forming a team to travel to Mississippi and rebuild following Hurricane Katrina. I immediately signed up without knowing what I was getting into – secretly hoping this was the opportunity I had been waiting for to get involved. We left very early on a Saturday morning; myself and six strangers. On the road, we talked about sports, jobs and family. You know - small talk.

Upon arrival, we were assigned to a home that had been severely damaged by the storm. Monday morning at the worksite, we discovered the house needed rebuilt from the studs out. The home owner, a twenty-something young man, was legally blind. His mom lived next door and for a year, he's lived in a trailer in her side yard. Any problems or concerns I'd brought with me suddenly seemed small. He had no home, no insurance and no money to rebuild. Every tool and piece of material we used had been donated.

That week, we shared weariness, frustration, despair, but most of all – enjoyment…lots of enjoyment. Our small team worked hard. We finished gutting the home, rebuilt some of the frame, then moved on to replacing rotting floors to make the home structurally sound. One morning, it began to rain and we discovered the hard way – the roof needed work as well. With the guidance of an 84 year-old pastor/electrician from Virginia, the home was completely rewired. We insulated all of the exterior walls and by the end of the week, we were hanging drywall in one of the rooms. At the beginning of the week, I never imagined we would be able to accomplish what we did. As important as the work was, we also spent time with the homeowners. Anytime they wanted to talk, someone was available to listen. It was an incredibly rewarding experience.  I can't wait to return next spring.

This weekend, I am overwhelmed with my new relationships. I now call these six strangers my friends. By weeks end, I found myself openly sharing things about my life, my marriage and my faith with this group of people. I experienced a level of trust I can't explain. I've been invited to join a men's group beginning soon – I wish it were starting tomorrow.
     
This story isn't only about the small, positive impact we had on someone's life in Mississippi. It's about my journey, too – a journey in its infancy. I have a long way to go, but I've come to realize that God loves me and looks beyond my faults and failures. With the support of my wife Sherry, my new friends and memories of this experience, my faith grows stronger every day.  My name is Dale Cook and this is my story.