Life Chapters: End One, Begin Another

Thirty-three years ago I began my service to the local church, Calvary Baptist Church, in Barnwell , SC, my hometown. Since that time, I have had the opportunity to serve Pleasant Hill Baptist Church in Greer, SC; Mt. Lebanon Baptist Church in Greer, SC; Buckeye Forest Baptist Church in Spartanburg, SC; Jeffersontown United Methodist Church in Jeffersontown, KY; Walnut Street Baptist Church in Louisville, KY; and Oak Grove United Methodist Church in Decatur, GA. During this time I have also had the honor of serving the Montgomery Baptist Association in Montgomery, AL; Birmingham Baptist Association in Birmingham, AL; and the District of Columbia Baptist Convention in Washington, DC.
 

Throughout these 33 years I have journeyed with congregations through births, celebrations, tragedies and deaths. The one thing constant through all was God’s sustaining grace. God has never called one person to be perfect but has called all to be faithful. In my years of ministry within the Church, I have sought to be faithful, loving, and compassionate and filled with grace. I have sought to love all, including the unloving. I have sought to meet the needs of people where they are not where I want them to be. I have sought to be a minister of redemption not one of judgment.  Did I succeed in all my attempts? No, but I tried and when I failed I asked for forgiveness.

This past April, I retired and ended the chapter in my life of directly serving the local congregation by beginning a new life chapter through another ministry opportunity.  What precipitated this change? I retired not because of my lack of passion for the Church, but because I sensed the need to write another life chapter that would reconnect my ending with my beginning.

At 50 years of age, I asked myself, “How do I want to end?” That question haunted me for some time, especially since I loved Washington DC and all the initiatives in which we were involved. But there was still a yearning for something different. Different?  I was in the most powerful city in the world and rubbed elbows with powerful people and pastors every day. What can be different than serving the Church in DC? 

Nothing, so I found myself serving the Church in a different way. From the concrete jungle to the mountains of Appalachia Kentucky, my wife and I moved. Moved to a world far removed from what I had known and experienced for some time. A life where technology is still struggling to infiltrate, a people whose average individual annual income is $11,000, where 42% of the population lives in poverty, where only 10% of the population have a bachelors’ degree or higher and a state where 7,500 children are in the custody of the State.

As I begin to write the first sentences of this new life chapter I do so with a heavy, yet excited heart. Providing leadership to Buckhorn Children and Family Services is an awesome opportunity and challenge. I will keep you informed as I write this new life chapter.

The World of an Author

The world of an author is a universe unto itself.  The universe resides in the mind of the author.  The mind is the seat of power.  It is through the mind of the author that he gains power to conceive, birth  and control that universe in which he becomes the supreme being.

The author may receive ideas for the conception of his world through the environment around him, from others, life experiences, world observations and inspiration from God.  They are not constant and many go for long periods of time without a world to write about.

Once inspired, processed, and conceived in the mind of the author, the birth event takes place as she puts pen in hand or fingers to the keyboard.  It is through this medium that the author experiences the power to create/destroy, display good/evil, emote love/hate, perfect/defect, be friend/foe, paint gardens/deserts, promote peace/war, acknowledge God or neglect His existence.  The conceived world of an author is often a world of dichotomies.

I’ve thought a lot recently about the worlds I try to create through the magic of words. Lately, I have been experiencing dry spell of inspiration to write.  I’ve wondered why the silence, the lack of inspiration and the absence of words?  Sometimes my mind conceives and articles are created as fast as water flows down the stream.  Then other times there is a drought and the soul thirsts for inspiration to create only to taste the dust of silence.

After much reflection, I’ve learned that I don’t always have to have something to say or an article to write.  A pause is not always bad. Silence can be golden if you allow it to be so. I am not comfortable with silence. I like noise...the tv or radio on all the time, even if I am not listening. A noise maker at night, because I can't sleep in silence. I am sure there is some psychological rationale or diagnosis for this condition but the fact remains I don't like silence! 

I realized also to remind myself daily to pace myself by slowing down and intentionally look at the world, those around me and spend some time in silence with myself and God. As a writer, I wonder how God conceived the idea of creating a universe, where did His inspiration come from? How long did he conceive the idea in His mind before speaking it into existence?

Finally, I realized that I don’t have to have the perfect world to write into existence.  Each time an article is in print I find mistakes; things I should have said and lessons that went unrecognized at the writing.  My world, even though I am the creator, can’t be perfect because I am not. This practice and discovery is opening up worlds I never knew existed. I am beginning to like taking life slow, acknowledging my imperfections and adjusting to a little silence.

The God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and the father of Jesus Christ IS perfect.  As Creator of the universe and its creatures, He created everything with perfection it was only through the freedom of human will that imperfection crept in. Once my world goes to print, a rewrite is not possible but with God, He daily gives His creation the opportunity to rewrite the imperfections and once again bring to His lips “It is good.”  I like how I feel when I see an article come to life in print and on display.  My joy in no way compares to the emotion that God must experience each day when He looks at His world. 

So don't worry about the silence that may befall your life. Just sit, listen, observe and reflect. In time, words will come.

PEANUT

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.

 

An Imprint

It was 1:55 a.m. on a Thanksgiving morning.  I held his hand, caressed his head and wiped one final tear from his watering eye and whispered in his ear thanks for loving me and being my granddad.  He breathed his last and went to his eternal home.  My friend, my hero, my granddaddy Wood, at 81 years of age, died.

I must be strong, I told myself. I called Hospice, the funeral home owner and then helped load the body in the hearse. I couldn't sleep so I wrote the obituary, planned the funeral and contacted the pall bearers.   

I was to deliver the eulogy.  I didn’t know if I could do it, but it was his request.  I honored his request and spoke for 20 minutes on the influence one man had upon my life.  It was a good funeral; he would never have believed how much influence he had upon the people of Barnwell County, SC after serving 35 years as a law enforcement officer. Chief of Police, Police Officers, Sheriff, Deputy Sheriffs and Game Wardens served as Honorary Pallbearers with all badges draped in black. Family, friends, hunting buddies, politicians and strangers gathered in respect. It was a good feeling to such him honored in this manner.

Later that day, it was time to leave, head back to our ministry field of Birmingham, AL. Before leaving, my family and I stopped by his grave site to take one final view of all the lovely flowers.  The crowd was gone, it was just me and my family…no role to play, just a grandson with his young family at the grave site of one whom he loved dearly. It was time…it was my turn to release my emotions and grieve. It was hard, it had been building up all week and I now needed to let go. 

This was one of the first times my girls saw me cry over a loved one. There had been no immediate family deaths up until this point. Seeing this, my youngest, Stephanie (at that time 6 years old), came up and hugged my leg and asked me, Dad is this a crying situation?  I told her it was and in the midst of my grief was a smile, a lesson and ray of hope as I witnessed her later actions.  Before we left, she wanted granddaddy to know she was there, so through her creative mind she placed her hand on the soft dirt of the freshly constructed grave, pressed heavily with the weight of her little body and left her imprint.  Now he’ll know I was here!

I learned a lesson that day.  Adults need to know that it is okay to grieve in the presence of our loved ones.  Grieving is good for the soul and mind.  Our children need to know that adults get sad and that life is not always easy, a state of ecstasy or designed for our pleasure. Life is hard and we need each other to make it to the next. Secondly, people in our midst need to know we’re here.  Just as Stephanie wanted her granddaddy to know she was here in his death, we need to let people know we are here through life by imprinting our love, support and encouragement upon those whom we encounter.

 

The Sanctity of Silence

Today is Holy Saturday of the Passion Week of Jesus Christ. Holy Saturday is the day after the crucifixion. After his death on the cross on Friday, Jesus' family lowered his body and quickly transported it to a borrowed tomb from Joseph of Arimathea. All of this had to happen in rapid fashion because of the fast-approaching hour of the Sabbath. No work could be done on the Sabbath and this included burials.

The body was placed in the tomb, a stone rolled in front of the entrance to seal and Roman guards were present to prevent anyone from stealing the body to further the "messiahship" ramblings of a young man from Nazareth. Sabbath descended and 24 hours of silence began.

The Sabbath held a sense of accomplishment for the Romans, Pharisees, Sadducees and nonbelievers. The longstanding institution, tradition and belief of the Jewish faith was being challenged from a young man born of a carpenter. People in panic often react through irrational words and behavior. Their reaction of sending someone to death by way of the cross was a display of their extreme and intense fear of coming change that was preached by this man.

The Sabbath for the "followers of the way" was a day of silence, wonder, bewilderment, concern, disappointment, reflection and just a "sinking feeling in the gut kinda day." Were they misinformed followers of an egocentric man from Nazareth? Did the cross derail Jesus' mission? What were they to do next, go back home and pick up past lives?

The Sabbath for the crucified Jesus is riddled with mystery. Nowhere in the Bible does it actually give an account of what happened with Jesus during this "silent" period. Some believe that during this time Jesus went into hell and preached to the souls imprisoned there. But I don't think there is a textual basis for that assumption. The normal assumption is that Jesus' fleshly body remained in the tomb, just as ours will remain in the grave. His spirit went to the Father just as ours will go.

The Sabbath of Passion Week for me is about silence. It was a day of silence and reflection for the followers of the way and so it continues to be for me. I think the day of silence was divinely designed by our Creator because He knew we needed it.

Silence is the perfect statement of faith. It is the perfect prayer. Silence allows the connection to God beyond what words can express. It is a special gift to us if we nurture, mature and make use of it. It is an act that allows our Creator to extend His divine arms, grab and embrace us. It is a journey whose path leads to perfect peace in Him.

I often find myself speaking when I should be silent. Often silent when I should be speaking. I pray that as I continue my daily walk towards Him, I will be more discerning between the two. So for today, I am silent.

May today not be my only day of silence during the next year because as God revealed centuries ago, the day after silence may literally be the day that changes the world and eternity.

The Sinister Act of Sequester

Today, our government officials, appointed and elected, should have grappled and found a solution to an event that will occur tonight at midnight due to their inability to act. The sequester that begins at midnight will not be felt immediately, but, over time will eat away at an already struggling nation. Within the next year, our citizens will see that these arbitrary budget cuts taking place because of the lack of leadership in Washington, DC. These cuts will not only hurt the economy, but will make life harder for the most vulnerable of society and threaten our national security.

I have lived in four states before coming to DC: Alabama, Georgia, Kentucky and South Carolina. If these sequestrations are played out to their fullest, the combined affects on these four states will be:

• 870 teachers and aides jobs will be at risk
• 1,910 low income students will lose work study jobs they have to help pay for college
• 111,000 students will lose access to support programs and special educational resources in public schools
• 174,630 workers will loose access to job training
• 190 public schools will lose funds to help at-risk students
• 86,000 Civilian Department of Defense employees will be furloughed
• 2,000 victims of domestic violence will lose access to support services
• $3,666,000.00 will be cut to provide meals to sick and homebound senior adults
• 9,500 fewer children will get vaccinations
• $2,238,000.00 will be cut that provides response to threats of infectious diseases and natural disasters

This is but a few of the negative effects that will be felt. I hope the numbers are wrong, but more importantly, this isn't a conversation that even needs to be taking place. The above cuts alone will not move our government to a solution. The announcement today that free flights upon military aircraft will no longer be available to elected officials, unless they are flying to a militarized zone, and that they will have to fly commercial will most probably get them to act soon.
This sequester and the debt ceiling issues have occurred because we have allowed our elected and appointed officials to become so polarized that the forward movement of this country is virtually stagnant. We no longer employ our government officials to move our nation forward but to rest on their laurels and argue. This was not the design.

Our government and party system was designed to foster healthy conflict and vigorous debate in an effort to get the best ideas, ideals and visions on the table so that the brightest minds of our country could then collaborate and cooperatively move forward, knowing that no one party or group gets their way all of the time. I believe what we are encountering today is a new cultural phenomena. 

No longer do we celebrate cooperative collaborations. We are a people who now enjoy conquer and divide. We love debate and we love stopping forward movement of the opposing "view" even better. The joy today is finding in keeping those we oppose from doing anything, even if its right. This is happening not only in politics but also business, international relations, faith relations, relations within our communities of faith and in our families. We have become more tech savvy, social media dependent  and dysfunctional with interpersonal and face to face relationships.

Recently, I have been reminded by Henry Blackaby that leaders do what is right while politicians do what is popular. Unfortunately, we have a gap in leadership and a whole lot of politicians in every aspect of life. People actually know what is right and still do not act upon it and this saddens me.

I am afraid until folk, both inside and outside of the Church, understand the concept that Apostle Paul was trying to get across in I Corinthians 12, polarization will continue to rule the day. 

Was a solution found today? No. Even if a solution was found there was not enough elected leaders in DC to pass the recommendation and avoid the sequester...shameful. What is more shameful is that procrastination is tolerated by the American people. That, my folks, is on you and me.

My advice? In the future elect and appointment leaders, not politicians! Elect women and men who have a record of successful collaboration, a trail of networking, healthy relationships of diversity, a history of being proactive and making timely decisions that enhance the whole and not a part. These folk exists...they are community leaders, faith leaders, business leaders, and entrepreneurs. Basically, I think the future is with leaders who are spread throughout this country and not presently serving in Washington, DC.