I remember vividly the first time I encountered him. It was
during my first month as Minister of Music, Youth and Children at Pleasant Hill
Baptist Church. Donna and I were newly married and had trekked off to college
to journey on the path towards a vocational career in ministry. I had served
previously with churches in my hometown but this was the first time away from
home and family, headed toward a career path I knew absolutely nothing about.
The move and the new path seemed daunting, intimidating and a little scary. But
the folk of Pleasant Hill changed all of those feelings, especially the Morrow
and Waldrop families.
He wasn’t much younger than Donna and me. He was in high
school and involved in the youth ministry of Pleasant Hill. His parents sang in
the adult choir. His older brother and
grandparents attended the church as well. I can’t remember how it all happened
but to this day, I am indebted to the fact that it did, thankful that Yates and
Helen Morrow took Donna and me in as family. Family, who fed us, entertained
us, prayed for us and provided a “safe sanctuary.”
As you find in most southern rural communities, Yates and
Helen lived in the house next door to his parents and their oldest son, Gary,
lived next door to his grandparents. Peanut
lived in his parents’ household. All gathered in a “city block” size tract of
land with space to be apart yet remain together.
Peanut was not his
real name but it should have been. I am sure I was told but I can’t remember now
how he got the nickname. Although he was in high school, he was beyond his
years when conversing on various subjects.
He always had a unique and often challenging perspective. He had the
ability to initiate deep thought, challenge the status quo and offer a
differing ideology. He could debate with
the fierceness of a Princeton grad and with the speed of batting an eye, could
interject a joke and have the whole room laughing. These were his gifts.
Yesterday, the folk of the Pleasant Hill community
celebrated the life and home-going of Peanut who died suddenly at age 48.
Peanut was our friend, our family, one of the first to hold our first born. He was the resident debater and comedian. Although
we didn’t maintain regular contact over the years, his memory will forever be
etched in our experiences of life and on this day of reflection, his memory,
like in those early days, challenges me.
I remember two significant gifts that Peanut possessed: the
gift of love and the gift of laughter. Peanut loved Donna, Ashley and me as if
we were biological family. He supported us, respected us and would help us with
any chore upon request. I witnessed the love he had for his grandparents,
mother, step-father, brother and niece. As in all families, he could argue with
the best but at the end of the day, he loved.
Just as Peanut loved, he also laughed. Some of the funniest
moments of my life were initiated by Peanut. He could turn any experience,
observation or conversation into a laughable moment. There was one time, without
any thought of danger he and his brother, Gary, crawled into an abandon gold
mine with me in the deep woods of Holly Springs. I remember sitting in that
dark, damp oversized “rat hole” when Peanut brought clarity and reality to what
we had actually done. We could do nothing but laugh. People fell in love with
him because his laughter was contagious and many people caught it!
While he loved and laughed, he also battled with life, just
as we all do. He battled with decisions about lifestyle, career, family and his
relationship with God. But then again, don’t we all? Like most of us, he will
not be a candidate for sainthood but I am sure there is a reward or two when he
meets his Savior and God.
When I reflect upon his life lessons I find that he has left
me with these: (1) Love is a priceless commodity, one that is not given out
often but is needed regularly and in big doses. Love more than you hate, encourage
more than you discourage. Be there for
others and love yourself. Let those
around you know often that they are loved. (2) Laughter is the best medicine.
Laughter heals, paves the path toward love and puts life in perspective. Don’t
be so serious; learn to laugh. (3) Family
isn’t necessarily all about biology. Family can be anybody whom you let in. Let more people into your life. (4) When
you make a good decision, celebrate. When you make a bad decision, acknowledge
it and move on. Don’t beat yourself up.
Peanut will be missed. He will be missed by his grandmother,
mother, son, daughter, brother, nieces, nephews, in-laws and friends. Through
his death, love and laughter in the world has become a little less in a time
when we need more. May we fill the void and honor Peanut by loving and laughing
a little more.
