The End of the Ride

Snap! Crackle! Pop!-Not what you think. Those are the sounds my body makes every morning when I’m trying to put on my pants. Isn’t it interesting what older folks long for compared to the desires of younger days?  I never thought that I would ever wish for greater flexibility and pain free movement with some of my everyday activities. After I am up a while and move around a bit, I do pretty well. It is the getting started each morning that hurts.

This aging thing wears on our joints. Even if we have exercised all of our lives we still suffer from the damage done by age. There is not much we can do about the inevitable aging process. But the aches and pains we have do not have to make our end of life ride a complete bummer. Your physical situation does not have to keep you from enjoying the ride to the end. I can think of many people who experienced terrible physical maladies in their last days and maintained a positive outlook on life. We all have known people like that. It is sad to watch men and women waste away in bitterness, hate and resentment. I wonder sometimes if they enjoy being angry and vengeful.

There are many men and women who are nearing the end of their life’s ride on the hill in our nation's capital. They are the ones we have elected to represent us. We used to expect them to work together to do what is best for America so that we the citizens can live in peace and feel safe. But that hasn't been the case for many years. I guess there are a lot of reasons for that. One reason we have this problem is because too many, maybe most, of those who represent us are driven by hate. They have so much vengeance toward those across the aisle from them that they refuse to work together.
This is the case in many areas of life. It is true in our churches. I have seen it in deacon’s meetings, in business meetings, and I have seen it at worship services where people will not even speak to one another. It happens in the local schools all the way to the highest level of the administration. We all know this is the case in the business world, the sports world and the entertainment industry.

Obviously, old people are not the only ones who are driven by hate and anger. But my point is that when we near the end of the ride, should we not desire to make it a joyful experience? Shouldn’t we stop behaving like  kindergartners? Ephesians 4:5 says, “Instead, by speaking the truth in love, we will grow up completely…” Then in verse 31 we find theses words, “Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, quarreling and slander be put away from you, along with all hatred. Even if you are not of the Christian faith this advice is good for the heart and soul.

The end of the ride is near for many of us. The sounds of love and joy must harmoniously work in concert with the snaps, crackles and pops that become louder and more frequent as we age.

The Most Awesome Responsibility

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” When he had laid hands on them, he went on from there. Matthew 19:14-15

I can’t think of a more beautiful, loving thought than to picture Jesus with precious little children. Jesus desired to be with children. The scripture above is in context with the disciples rebuking the children’s parents forbidding them to bring their little ones to Jesus. When Jesus saw what the disciples were doing he scolded them. “Don’t hinder them from coming to me.” Hurray for Jesus! Who would dare prevent children from being with Jesus? What insensitive bruit would try to stop Jesus from laying his hands on a child and praying for him? That’s what the disciples were trying to do.

It is a tremendous blessing to see parents bringing their children to Sunday School on Sunday morning. Newborns to age 11 are brought  to a place where they can learn about Jesus. This past Sunday there were 10 or 12 children who sang during our worship service. They sang about Jesus. They knew the words, words they will never forget. Everyone loves to hear little children sing about the Lord. I’m glad that the parents, adult Sunday School teachers and workers, and choir director and musicians work so hard to bring our children to Jesus.

Who then keeps children from Jesus? Who is it that hinders the children from coming to Him? All too often it is their parents who get in the way of their children from coming to Jesus. I suppose there are a number of reasons why parents do this. In our society many parents are simply indifferent when it comes to church. They don’t think getting their children to Sunday School is important. Just let them wait until they are older, and they can decide for themselves if they want to go. Some parents had a bad experience with church. So they don’t go, and, therefore, their children don’t go. There are many parents who don’t believe in God. There are even Christian parents who are walking in darkness. Their hearts are hardened, and Church is the last thing on their minds.

Because of these selfish reasons children are not learning about Jesus or the wonderful stories in the Bible. Today our schools are full of children and teens who are biblically illiterate. They have no idea who Noah, David or Paul are. They know very little about Jesus. They don’t know about the depravity of sin. They know nothing of the plan of salvation. And they are growing up separated from Jesus and are bound for hell because their parents didn’t think it was important to take them to Jesus.

Parents can give their children the nicest gifts in the world. But the most important thing that parents can give their child is a Christian mother, and a godly dad, who both love Jesus and teach that child everything they can about Him. It breaks Sherri’s heart and my heart to watch when parents are hindering their beautiful, precious child from coming to Jesus. If she or he are not taught early about Jesus it will be much harder when they are older to come to him. Statistics show that by the time a person reaches age 18 the odds that they will accept Jesus as Savior become very low. When they are very young, when they are little children, they need wise counsel from their parents. Parents, please take your child to Sunday School and church. Take them to Jesus.

The Greatest Detective

I enjoy the “who done it” shows. The CSI shows are my favorites. Isn’t it amazing how they can solve a case in less than an hour? They always figure out who committed the crime. Usually one of the stars on these shows finds himself staring death in the eyes. I wonder how he will get out of this one! And of course he survives. He has  to because there are several episodes left in the season and “the show must go on”. The stars never die unless they don’t intend to come back for the next season. There is always someone who, through their detective work, figures out who done it. Doing detective work in real life has to be hard,  although I'm sure very exciting.

A good detective would most likely be able to figure out a lot about each of us. Not anything bad, of course, but I mean the average things we do each day. I was thinking as I looked around my den how much incriminating evidence a detective could find about me as far as what I do in a week’s time, that is if I don’t dust, vacuum, and straighten up. Right now I need to do all of those things. It wouldn’t take a very smart detective to know that I eat Cheerios, popcorn, drink coffee (I am a pro at spilling coffee), and eat sandwiches and crackers, probably with peanut butter. The evidence is on the floor around my chair, on the table beside my chair and in the chair itself. A few photos would convince any jury that I’m guilty. But how much time would a guy have to serve for being a messy eater?

Other evidence concerning what I do would be note tablets, a computer, two I Pads, a big Bible, a diary, ink pens, a sharpie or two, highlighters, a magnifying glass, and three pair of reading glasses. I usually have several books lying on the floor around my chair some of them with peanut butter on them of course.  There are also random ink marks all over my leather recliner. I drop my pens in my chair and don’t realize it. My movement causes the renegade, open pen to scribble those unwanted marks all over where I’m sitting. A detective would conclude that I am a reader, a writer and probably retired on a teacher’s pension.  I imagine if a detective looked around the area where you spend a great deal of time he or she could tell a lot about you. Ladies we won’t mention your car, kitchen drawers, or bath room drawers, and certainly not, Lord help us, your purse.

The way we live says very much about us. How we treat others, how we handle adversity, how we dress, our speech, what we post on social media, what we do in our spare time, and a number of other positions which we hold in life that define us. What positive, wholesome evidence would you like to be found about you? It would probably be good if every once in a while each of us did some honest, soul searching detective work on ourselves. If there are found to be some unsatisfactory, incriminating life marks then it is not too late to ask the Greatest Detective ever to blot them out giving us a reprieve to start a new.  I really hope that being a messy eater doesn’t go against me because I’m thinking that’s one thing that will only get worse as I get older.

Knowing Who to Follow

My daddy raised a small herd of Hereford cattle when I was a boy. Just about every day he would walk out into the pasture to check on them. Most of the time the cattle would be back over the hill out of sight so he would call them. His voice echoed across the farm with a distinct call, not quite a yodel, but something similar to that. I remember trying it, but the cows never came when I called. However, when daddy called them it wouldn’t be long before everyone of them appeared at the top of the hill. When they saw him they would walk right up to him as if saying, “Here we are.”

I use this analogy because we did not raise sheep, and a flock of sheep is key for where I’m going with this. Shepherds call their sheep the same way my dad called his cattle. In biblical days, shepherds had their individual flocks in the fields together. Each shepherd had his own distinct call for his flock. When it was time to take them to the sheep pen the shepherd would call his sheep. The sheep understood their master’s, call and they would come to him. They knew their master’s voice, and they would follow him only.

Jesus said, “I’m the Good Shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” He lays down his life “for” the sheep. That preposition “for” has two meanings in the Greek. One is to do something on behalf of, and the other is to do something in place of. The second meaning is the one Jesus used here. Jesus was saying,  “I lay down my life in your place so that you will not die spiritually.” I am you substitute. I am taking the punishishment that you deserve. We are like sheep. Jesus was referring to us. He has laid down his life for us so that we can belong to him.

Jesus said, “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. John 10: 27-28 When we accept Jesus we will know his voice and follow him. We know we will be safe with Jesus, our master. There are others who call us with promises and answers to our problems. There are many want to be messiahs and saviors in our world: politicians, celebrities, con artists who don’t care about us.They will lead us astray, to places we don’t need to go.   All they want is power, fame and wealth. They are not good. Only Jesus is good. He is the Good Shepherd. Be sure that you know his voice, and follow him only.

Dealing With the Dark Times

I have been around for a while. Life has been good to me. I have been blessed, enjoying many wonderful experiences with many wonderful people. I thank God for all of the great things I have been able to do. Not all of my experiences have turned out as well as I would have liked. Along with the good experiences there have been bad ones that brought heartache for my family and me. Some of the grief I have endured has been because of others, some because of mistakes I made and some because that is just the way life is. Everyone goes through bad times.

During the forty years that I was a pastor I listened to people express their pain, their grief and their sorrow. As a teacher I listened to students tell about terrible things they were experiencing at home. I heard students tell about having to run out of their house at three in the morning to hide because their mother’s boyfriend came home drunk and was fighting with their mother. I heard a young man tell  how his mother made him sleep in the truck because she was prostituting herself in their small house. Many children had stories of  brokenness and despair due to the unspeakable horrors brought on them by their moms and dads. Children and adults alike walk among us trying to hide their sadness, feeling that there is no hope and wondering why they have to go through such difficult times. We can not imagine the pain that those around us are going through. All of us have had times when we shed tears deep in our heart where no one could see. Such is the reality of thousands of men, women, boys and girls.

Wouldn’t it be great if we never had to experience heartaches? One thing we understand, we are all going to have many kinds of trials. James said, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds…” The thing we find difficult to accept is the part about being joyful when trouble comes our way. How is it possible to express joy when we are deeply hurting because of the troubles that are tearing us apart? No one in his right mind is going to joyfully accept terrible experiences. James is indicating that we all need trials in our lives because it is through trials that our faith is strengthened. We will develop spiritual muscles that will help us persevere in this harsh world.

I am reminded of my high school days when I played basketball. My team mates and I went through weeks of grueling conditioning. When we didn’t think we could run another sprint we were made to do more. Every day we were pushed beyond anything we though we could physically endure. We were so glad when practice was over, but we knew as we walked off that floor that we would return the next day to do it all over again. It was brutal, but it made us better prepared when we began playing our games, We were able to persevere. As Christians we must accept trials as opportunities to grow and to become stronger in our faith. I would not want to redo any of the trials I experienced, but I can say that because of them I am a better person. I am better able to deal with problems I face today.

Another reason that trials come our way is to direct us to depend on Jesus.  We can always count on Jesus. He said, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” Even though we have troubles, Jesus will make sure that we survive. He has overcome every trial. He will help us whenever it seems we can’t go on. Jesus will give us peace and nothing will ever take away our joy.

Silly As a Goose

There is an old saying that I used to hear when I was young that described someone who did something that was not very smart. In fact, I remember hearing my mother use this little phrase. She would say, “He doesn’t have the sense that God gave a goose.” I understand that when that phrase is used that the person being referred to has made a bone headed move. What I have always wondered is, are geese stupid creatures? I grew up on a farm, but.we didn’t raise geese. I do know that some geese can be very mean, and you don’t want to mess with them when they are angry. I suppose they are territorial and become angry when someone threatens to violate their space.

I have also heard the term, “silly as a goose”. Have you ever seen a goose that you would consider silly? Are geese sillier than other animals? I think monkeys are sillier than geese. Monkeys make me laugh. Why don’t we say, “You are sillier than a monkey”? That makes more sense to me. Geese seem to get a bad rap.

What about the term “goose egg”? What does that mean? In mathematical terms goose egg means zero, a big fat nothing. When we fall and get a bump on our heads it is called a goose egg. That is a somewhat negative term, I think. It seems that nothing good is said about geese.

There is one positive thing that I can think of that comes from the goose world. That is the character, Mother Goose. Who doesn’t like Mother Goose? Children for many years have enjoyed hearing stories read to them from the Mother Goose book. I always looked favorably on the old, plump goose that we all know as Mother Goose. She seemed very nice, not silly nor senseless. She was very loving and entertaining.

Maybe there are some silly geese, but I don’t think we should judge all geese just because of a few goose eggs. Nor should we judge all people negatively due to the mistakes of a few. There are a lot of good eggs in the world. By the way, Mother Goose is buried in a cemetery in Boston. I saw her tombstone.

God’s Glory Reveal in the Heavens

God’s glory is visible to all, even to those who do not believe that he exists.
Each day His creative work is preached around the world by the majestic beauty found within the heavens.
The blue skies of the day and the darkness of night are our teachers, and knowledge becomes our reward.
Stillness, silence, no speech, nor  words are heard from them.
Yet, their voices shout throughout all the earth that our God is a glorious God.

Each day the sun rises, and makes its way across the sky.
Like a victorious warrior he marches, day after day, always on time: never late this conquering champion.
He shines on all of creation giving warmth to heart and soul, a demonstration of the creator’s mercy and grace.
So dependable and trustworthy is He that man takes for granted His miraculous work.
And man forgets that the heavens do indeed declare the glory of our God.

The Walk

Jesus came walking on the waters of the Sea of Galilee one very stormy night. The wind and the angry waves must have made it even more difficult for him. The disciples were in a boat trying to keep it afloat during the barrage of the dark, fierce gale.  They feared for their lives. When they first noticed Jesus they thought he was a ghost. Their fear went up about ten notches. They had never experienced anything like this before.  When Jesus realized how frightened they were he said, “Don't be afraid, it is I.” Now this story gets even more crazy. Peter said, “Lord, if it is really you tell me to come to you.” Jesus told him to come ahead.

Who in their right mind would have made a request like this? I bet some of the other disciples were surprised when Peter said that. “Surely you are not serious, Peter. Don’t joke around at a time like this!” But immediately,  Peter hopped out of the boat, and he actually began walking on the water toward Jesus.  I imagine the disciple watched, bugged eyed with their mouths agape, when they realized that Peter was doing it. He was really walking on water! First Jesus, now Peter! Well if you are familiar with the story you know what happened next.

Peter’s attention quickly faded from Jesus and was captured by the wind and the waves. He came to his senses remembering that a mere man cannot walk on water. 'This is impossible’, he thought. His fear returned, and he sank like a rock. Peter cried out, “Lord, save me!” Of course, Jesus did save Peter from drowning. But then Jesus said something to Peter that might be the most important words  ever spoken to him, and for us, actually. Jesus said to Peter, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

Peter took many walks after this one. If we think about it he experienced a lot of difficult walks. We know that he failed several times. Over and over again he sank like a rock. But we also know that he had an innumerable amount of successful walks. One day he answered Jesus, saying, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” He preached and over three thousand people  were saved. He stood up to the religious leaders when they told him not to speak the name, nor the message of Jesus. Peter risked his life many times for the cause of Christ. He was a strong leader of the first century Church. Peter did what Jesus told him to do, “Peter, feed my sheep.” Peter stood firm, not wavering, not sinking because he reached a point on his journey where he did not doubt.

The walk, your walk, my walk often becomes difficult, almost as impossible as walking on water. The wind and the waves of this world take our attention off of Jesus and we sink, we fail, we fear, and we doubt. We have little faith. Peter knew what the followers of Jesus would encounter as they would travel on their walk. He knew what it was like to sink. He knew what fear was. So he gave us these words of encouragement, “Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s MIGHTY hand, that he may LIFT you up in due time. Cast ALL your ANXIETY (FEAR) on him because he CARES for you.” 1 Peter 5:6-7

We need not be afraid when we have those “walking on water” experiences. Stay in touch with Jesus through pray, worship, Bible study, and meditation. Our faith will grow and our doubts will shrink, and the walk will become more bearable.

When the Journey Is Too Rough

Do you remember Zaphenath-Paneah? Not many recognize his name, yet almost everyone knows who he is. He was one of the most faithful men in the Bible. He loved God. It was said of him, “Can we find anyone like this man, one in whom is the Spirit of God?” ...and “There is no one so discerning and wise as you.” Because of his faithfulness and his obedience he went from being a slave imprisoned in a dungeon to being the most powerful man in the world. However, despite all of his power he never took credit for his accomplishments. Humbly he gave God credit for all the great things that happened in his life.

Zaphenath-Paneah was the one of whom it was decreed, “I hereby put you in charge of the whole land of Egypt.” All of this because he interpreted a dream Pharaoh had which foretold of 7 years of abundant harvests followed by 7 years of famine for the land. Of course we know this man's real name was Joseph. Pharaoh had given him an Egyptian name.

God worked through him to bless the people of the world. Because of Joseph’s obedience thousands upon thousands of people were saved during those 7 years of famine. How could Joseph have  imagined he would be used so mightily as he lay in that dark cistern where his brothers had put him to die? How could he have thought that someday he would be a ruler as he rode in the foreigner’s caravan, chained, a slave to be sold to no telling who? What must he have thought when he was falsely accused and put in prison? While in prison he thought that he might be freed, but he was forgotten and help didn’t come. It seemed that for many years of his young life nothing went right for him. But Joseph stayed strong, he remained faithful continuing to be positive serving those around him. He never gave up.

Right now there are many who feel like nothing is going right for you. I know some who have spent months suffering, worrying, agonizing over a loved one. You are absolutely worn out from the struggles that continue to pile up on you. But you continue to move ahead because you can’t stop. Others are depending on you.  Some of you feel forgotten. I wish I could say that things will be better soon. I don’t know the future. Life may even get worse. Still, the days ahead may bring a refreshing turn around, and life may be better than you could have imagined. The only thing I can say is that God hasn’t forgotten you. He is sovereign. He has the perfect plan for each of us. You probably will not be exalted to a high position of leadership in this world, but if your faith is in Jesus one day you will assume your position as royalty because because of your relationship with the King. Heaven awaits! Remain faithful to the end for you will receive your reward.

Let’s Have a Meeting

Soon after we moved to our present location Sherri and I noticed that a group of people were meeting every Wednesday night at a house on the corner up from our house. Cars and trucks lined both streets. Men and women paraded into the house, and very often they were still meeting when we went to bed. Sherri and I were curious as to what these people were doing. We decided that they were having a Bible study although I don’t think I ever saw anyone carrying a Bible. After about four months I decided to ask someone what kind of meeting they were having. The guy reluctantly said, “Its a birthday party.” I replied, “You folks sure do have a lot of birthdays!” Later I found out from the home owner that the group was meeting to play poker, Texas Hold’um. He invited me, but so far I haven’t gone. Sherri and I joke about going over to the “Bible Study”.

People like to meet. Baptist meet a lot. If I had a dollar for every church related meeting I’ve attended in my six decade of life I could retire. Wait, I am retired!  Baptist have Bible studies, prayer meetings, home groups, eating meetings, “we call them fellowships”, planning meetings, deacon’s meetings, women’s mission meetings, men’s meetings, concerts, sing alongs, regular business meetings, called meetings, and many other meetings which may or may not be necessary. Then we meet on Sundays for the worship meeting and the corporate Bible study meeting which we call Sunday school.

Sometimes I wonder, ‘Are all of these meetings doing any good?’ Do our meetings further the Kingdom of God? How many souls are saved as a result of our gatherings? Do the hungry get fed?  Do we help the homeless because of a meeting? Do our meetings place us in a position to show love to those groups like the transgenders? What if one of them actually came to our church?  They might want to use our bathrooms! How many of our meetings result in our going into the projects, the ghettos, the bars, and the streets where drug dealers and prostitutes are found? Oh, we have a reputation to protect, we Baptist!  Would Jesus ever be seen in places like that?  We pride ourselves in going to a foreign country for a week to “carry the gospel message”, but never consider taking that same message to the dark places in our own cities where sinners lurk.

Do our meetings produce more baptisms? Do our meetings cause us to be more compassionate, more forgiving, more merciful, more Christlike? Do our meetings help convince us that our political and religious diffifferences, our biases, and our hatred toward those who disagree with us go against everything that Jesus taught. Why then do we meet so much? I think our meetings make us feel better about ourselves. For a little while we can take our minds off of our own selfishness, our selfserving lifestyle. We convince ourselves that we are doing God’s work. I’m sure God is very impressed by our many meetings, maybe not. I think that perhaps the poker game in my neighborhood might further God’s Kingdom just as much as some of our Baptist meetings.

Stories Best Left Untold

Israel (Jacob) had a favorite son. His name was Joseph. Israel’s other 11 sons knew their father was partial to Joseph, therefore, they hated their younger brother. To make matters worse Joseph had two dreams, both of which he should have known would make his brothers hate him even more if he told them. That is exactly what Joseph did. Each dream represented scenes in which his brothers bowed down to him signifying that they were subordinate to Joseph’s authority.

When the brothers got the opportunity they decided to kill Joseph, but the oldest brother, Ruben, intervened and talked the others into putting little brother in a cistern instead. Ruben was going to come back later, get Joseph out of the pit, and take him home to their father. As it turned out a caravan of merchants came by on their way to Egypt, and the brothers sold Joseph to them. Ruben was not there at the time to prevent the transaction so Joseph was taken to Egypt where he was sold to Potiphar, the captain of Pharaoh’s guard.

Even though this was God’s plan all along I think we find here an example for all of us.  Joseph should have kept his mouth shut. Some stories are best left untold. Have you known people who tell things that were none of their business? I have heard stories from others that although they were involve should not have been shared because others were hurt and embarrassed. I have a few stories about mistakes I’ve made that I think might keep some from making the same mistake, but I can’t tell those stories because others would be hurt if I told them. There are some really funny things about former students, fellow teachers, and church members that I would love to include in a book, but I can’t share them because those people would be embarrassed.

We just can’t tell everything we know. We should never share information told to us in confidence. Honor a person’s desire for you to not tell their secrets. Even if you mistakenly hear some juicy information which may or may not hurt another person, keep it to yourself. And be careful what you tell others about yourself. You could end up in a dark pit if you share your darkest secrets with the wrong person.

Speaking of Snow

I am pretty sure the year was 1978. The date was around the 2nd or 3rd of January, and it was the first day of school after Christmas break. Snow was in the forecast, but no specific time as to when it was to begin, nor was there an estimated amount. I was teaching and also driving a school bus for Lewisburg School. My route began early around sunrise, and the snow had not begun. The further I went the harder it snowed. The students on my route were ready to get back to school. I don’t think a single student failed to ride the bus that day. When I pulled into the school parking lot I noticed other buses still loaded with students were leaving the school grounds. I pulled up to let the students off. The principal told me that school had been cancelled. “Take ‘em back home!”

As I headed out the road conditions were horrible, and the visibility was getting worse as the intensity of the snow increased. I couldn’t drive very fast, so it took a long time to deliver everyone safe and sound. Near the end of the route on the Thompson Chapel Road I had a long, steep hill to climb, and at the top of the hill there was a sharp curve. I knew I had to build up some speed to make it up the hill. What worried me was how I would be able to maneuver that big bus around the curve. There was no problem getting up the hill, but when I drove the bus into the curve the bus began to slide sideways. I cut the wheels toward the direction of the slide and finally got the bus under control. Scary!

The four or five students still on the bus loved it. They sounded like they were on a roller coaster. One of them said, “Mr. Brady, how did you do that?” My reply, “I don’t know! I had my eyes closed!”
I finished my route and headed home. I was so glad to park that bus and relax.

The snowstorm of 1978 is still discussed to this day. There was no school anywhere the whole month of January. I can’t remember when we finally returned to school. I think we had about three feet of snow from the storm. People were snowed in, and the national guard had to rescue many. Sheri and I were having a house built during that time. That was not a good experience for us. But we lived through it. I guess if we could survive the 1978 Blizzard we can make it during this major snowstorm in Raleigh NC.

Sibling Rivalry

Long, long ago twin boys were born to Rebecca and Isaac. The older one, Esau, was loved by his father, and the younger one, Jacob, was loved by his mother. Esau was a country boy who preferred hunting out in the open spaces. Jacob just liked to stay at home with his mother. One day Esau came home famished, needing something to eat. Jacob had cooked some delicious stew. Esau said, “Give me a bowl of you stew before I starve to death.” The cunning Jacob replied, “Certainly, but you must give me your birthright!” Esau agreed since he figured the birthright would be no good to him if he died. This was not a smart move on Esau’s part. The birthright was extremely important, and he showed no regard for it. Nor was Jacob’s part in this deal a good thing.

Later the boy’s mother, Rebecca, helped Jacob pull off another deed to take something very special from Esau. They conspired to deceive Isaac by getting him to unknowingly give Jacob the blessing that was rightfully Esau’s. Of course there is more to this transaction. It was God’s plan all along for Jacob to receive the oldest son’s blessing which meant that Jacob would be the recipient of God’s promises through Abraham. But the immediate result was that Jacob had to leave home because he feared what Esau would do to him. Esau hated Jacob, and the brothers were alienated from each other.

What a tragic story. But this kind of thing is played out within families every day. Over the years I have known of many situations in which siblings have had a falling out and never speak to each other again. There are too many reasons for this kind of thing to mention, but the common thread is that one, both or a number of family bystanders are behaving childishly. I don’t care what the reason for the conflict there is no godly reason for siblings, parents, or relatives to hold on to animosity toward another in the family. Who is to fault? Everybody! I’ve seen a spouse hold a grudge toward their mates sibling. Most often they will take their mates side and reject their brother or sister having no contact with them whatsoever.

There is a solution to this kind of problem. Forgiveness! Act like an adult and do the right thing. There is no place for childish behavior in an adult world. You can quote me on that. Esau hated Jacob, and Jacob feared Esau. But finally, after many years Jacob decided to leave his father-in-laws land and go to his home where Esau was. He took his wives, his children, his servants and his livestock and started the journey to meet his brother. After traveling a great distance he was afraid when he got word that Esau was coming his way with 400 men. Jacob rounded up hundreds of his goats, cows, bulls, donkeys, and camels to offer Esau when they met.

When the brothers got in sight of each other after all those many years Jacob was surprised by what Esau did. Esau ran to Jacob and threw his arms around him and kissed him. Both brothers cried. Undoubtedly, Esau had forgiven his brother. You know what Jacob said to Esau? This is so neat! He said, “Brother, to see your face is like seeing the face of God, now that you have received me favorably.” Isn’t that great?

I think that deep down this is the kind of reunion that every sibling desires. This is what should happen. Get rid of pride. Spouses don’t exasperate the problem; don’t be the source of the problem. Refuse to be the childish source in the conflict. Be an agent of reconciliation. Every troubled relationship can come to a good conclusion. I would hate it if my brother and I were at odds with each other. I didn’t want him when he was born and didn’t like him much for many years, but now I don’t know what I would do without him. Please don’t tell him that I said this!

Sunday Dinner

After church yesterday Sherri and I drove over to Wake Forest where we met Susan, our daughter, and her husband Clay for Sunday Dinner. We meet somewhere every Sunday after church for Sunday Dinner. Our choice for a place to eat was a restaurant called The Real McCoys. I think they have the best catfish and fries in the north Raleigh/Wake Forest area.

Sherri and I got there first. The place was empty. The receptionist told us we were their first customers. She said they opened at 11, an hour before we got there. It was a little before 1 that the crowd started to arrive, just before the football game began. TVs  were everywhere on the walls. It didn’t matter where you sat you had the perfect seat to watch the game. As the game progressed the place became rowdy, much different than when we first arrived.

This morning I was thinking how different Sunday dinner was when I was a kid. My parents rarely went out to eat on Sunday, or any time for that matter. On special occasions we might have gone to Wilson’s Restaurant on the Bowling Green road or Parkview Restaurant on the square in Russellville. Those were the only choices. I don’t remember any TVs at either of those places. Of course,back in those days people were not looking at their cell phones because there were none, thank goodness. The waitresses didn’t have weird colored hair, tight pants with holes in the knees, or metal object in their eyebrows, lips and nose. Neither of those places were ever loud, no one shouting or screaming a curse word. No, it was just calm, peaceful, and friendly.

Where did we eat? We almost always ate at home. My parents actually cooked. We had fried chicken, steak and gravy, roast beef and Sunday potatoes, with biscuits or cornbread, vegetables, which I didn’t like back then, and most of the time a chocolate pie, a coconut pie or some other delicious dessert that my mother had made. Sometimes we would have company, the preacher and his family, or just some friends. But always our family sat down at the table and had Sunday Dinner together.

Splat

What did the bug say after he smashed into the windshield?

“If I had the guts I would do that again!”

There are occasions when a bird will fly into our patio door or into our large bay window. Sometimes the bird will fall to the ground, shake its head and fly off. There are others that are knocked out cold, but eventually they recover enough that they are able to fly away. Unfortunately, some hit the glass so hard that they die immediately, I suppose from a broken neck or major brain trauma. I’m not sure why these birds cannot see what is in front of them and avoid the danger. There is so much free space in which they can safely fly.

I was wondering about this, and it hit me that like these birds I have done the same thing many times. I didn’t run into a window, but I have flown into danger zones and have gone “splat”! I chased after unwise desires, hastily jumped into what seemed to be wonderful materialistic opportunities, and failed to weigh the cost.

The inexperience of youth explains why we have taken a nose dive into shallow waters. We were able to shake our heads, get up and move on. Hopefully, we learned a lesson and did not repeat the mistake again. Middle aged adults are not exempt from flying into glass doors. This can be a tough time as we begin to see that goals we had set for ourselves are not going to be achieved. Youth is fleeting, and in an attempt to hold on tightly to it we make some very foolish mistakes that knock us out. Some of us eventually recover, others never do. Some lose everything.

There are many good pieces of advice to help us avoid the windows of destruction. But my favorite is “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6

If we fly this course we are less likely to be like the bug that flew into the windshield, and those birds that went “Splat” into my patio door.

They Were Just Like Us

In those moments when your behavior, your actions, are less than what they should have been, and you wish you had not done what you did, the worst thing that could happen would be to run into a preacher or someone you think is very close to being like Jesus. Or you and your spouse have had a big fight, you’ve made a mistake with one of the kids, and your family life has not been ideal, and you don’t want to hear about how perfect the neighbors family is.

One of the worst things that we can do is to compare ourselves with someone else who we think has no problems and lives the ideal life. Have you ever considered some of the heroes in the Bible to see some of the things they did. Look at Abraham and Sarah for instance. They were the parents of the whole nation of Israel. They were people of much faith, and were greatly favored by God.

You know the story. Sarah couldn’t have children, God had promised Abraham that he would have a son who would be the beginning of a great nation of people that would number more than the stars in the sky. Sarah did not believe this so she suggest to Abraham that he sleep with her servant girl, get her pregnant so what God had promised would come true. That is what Abraham did, and the servant did have his child. I would suggest that this might cause some problems in a marriage, especially today.

One day God was talking to Abraham telling him that in a year Sarah would have this son he had promised. Sarah overheard the conversation. She laughed because she was 90 years old and Abraham was 100. There was no way two old fogies like them could have a child, she thought. Later God confronted Sarah and asked her why she had laughed. She said, “I did not laugh.” Here we see one of the greatest women in the Bible speaking directly to her God, her lord, telling him a big boldface lie. God said, “Yes, you did laugh.”

These are only two of several things that Abraham and Sarah did that were pretty bad. And they are not the only biblical heroes who committed terrible sins. King David was an adulterer and a murderer, the Apostle Paul persecuted the church and was responsible for the deaths of many people. Peter was a betrayer. What did God do? He forgave them, they repented and God used them in a mighty way. It doesn't matter what we’ve done God will forgive us. Those people you think are perfect, with perfect families, and never make mistakes and never sin? Let me tell you, they are not perfect. They do sin. You mess up, you sin, you beat yourself up by telling yourself you are a horrible person. You are not horrible. You are loved by God. So much so that his word says, “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” If you have really screwed up welcome to the crowd. You are in a great position to receive God’s love and forgiveness.

None of us are any different than the great heroes of the Bible. They were sinners the same as you and me. They asked God to forgive them and they repented and God changed them. If we do the same God will be able to use us in a mighty way.

Everybody Is Doing It

I’ve got some bad news. I’m dying. I found out some time ago, probably when I was 10 or 11 years old. My dogs died. I had a cat that died. My grandfather Brady died, and my parents told me that before I was born my two grandmothers and my other grandfather had died. My little cousin got hit by a car and she died, and a friend of my parents was killed in a coal mining accident. It seemed that a lot of people and pets in my life died and they continue to die. Then I was told that my parent would die some day, and I would also die. I haven't died yet, but I know I will, and so will you. Everybody is doing it. We are all going to die!

Do you ever worry about dying? I don’t as much as I did. I think everyone worries about facing death at some time in their life. I’ve heard that Christians should never worry about passing away. We are told that at death, in a snap, we will be in heaven with Jesus. That is comforting, but death  is a once in a lifetime thing. That’s what the Bible tells us. We have never experienced this before. I know I will go to heaven, and that I will live again. I really do believe that. I’m sure many reading this also believe you will spend eternity in heaven. But it takes a lot of faith to be completely sure of that.

Think about it. We are believing in a God we have never seen, trusting in a Savior we have only read about, and are hoping to go to a place in which nobody we know has ever been. Many of us have been told these things all of our lives. “It’s in the Bible”, they told us. Could we have been brainwashed? I can understand why many people have a hard time accepting all of this. I’m sure God knew we would have doubts. Even some of the strongest Christians have doubts, especially when life strikes a hard blow.

But the good news is we have a personal God who is very close. He speaks to us assuring us that he will do what he promised he would do. His Spirit is truly in us, to encourage us, to give us power, and show us the ways of God. He answers our requests. He provides for us when in need. My faith is in God because I have done things I would never have been able to do without him. I’m not worried about dying because I know where I’m going.

Sherri and I have gotten to travel a lot since we retired. We have been to places we had never been. We imagined what those places would be like. Some of them were far greater and more lovely than we expected. Heaven will be like that. Nothing that we have ever heard will prepare us for heaven. It will be a magnificent, breathtaking place, but more than that to be in the very presence of God without any sinful, earthly distractions will be far greater than anything we can imagine. God’s Spirit is repairing us even now for the day we will die. If we keep our minds fixed on Jesus and focus on Heavenly things we will be ready. What a glorious day it will be!

Who Do You Think You Are

Lord our Lord, how  majestic is your name in all the earth!”

 “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon, and the stars which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?”
Psalm 8

 “By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return." Genesis 3: 19

 When we consider God, his majesty, his mighty works, his saving grace, and his care for us who do we think we are when we  refuse to give him the honor and glory that he deserves? Who are we to refuse to worship him and diligently search the Holy Scriptures to know him more completely? Who are we to say all manner of things that contradict who Jesus is and devise our own plan for living; a plan that caters to our selfish desires?

 Recently I had someone tell me that I was too extreme in the way that I serve God. Going to church every Sunday and worshipping with fellow believers (which is what we are supposed to do), serving with the body of Christ by giving our time and our money, taking every opportunity to carry on Spiritual Conversations, as our pastor mentioned yesterday, are these actions too extreme? We who were created by God, who came from dust, who were crowned with glory and honor by him, and were made rulers over the works of his hand, the creatures of earth, the birds of the sky, and the fish that swim in the seas, being given the responsibility of caring for his creation and proclaiming the name of Jesus, how can anything we do be too extreme?

 How can we be accused of being too spiritual when we tell others about our Savior Jesus Christ? He did not come in secret. He did not hide who he was, nor why he came. A man, yet God in flesh is how he came. He said that he was the Light of the world. He called God His very own father. He said, “I have come that all may have life, eternal life.” He said if everyone remained silent the rocks along the road would praise him and cry out with cheers. Jesus let it be known that he came to draw all men unto himself. But it is for us to lift him high, lift him up so that others might see him and be healed of their sin. He let it be known that he was the Son of God, the Messiah. Over and over again Jesus made no mistake about who he was, what he came to this world to do, and what he expected of those who chose to follow him. He showed the world that he overcame death. He presented himself as the resurrected Savior.

Today too many Christians are hiding, Christians in secret, afraid that someone might accuse them of being too extreme or too spiritual. We need more Christians to come out from their hiding places to tell others about Jesus. In a world that is turning away from God and in danger of dying eternally without Jesus there is no way we can be too extreme. If we do not tell them about Jesus, who will? How can we keep quiet and not speak the name of our Savior Jesus Christ? How sad if we wait for inanimate objects do our bidding.

One day every person and every creature will bow before Him and cry out his name and confess that he is the Lord of Lords, and King of Kings, Jesus! There has never been anyone like him. For many that last testimony as to who he is will be too late. God wants extreme Christians. He  doesn’t want excuses. He wants obedience.

Who Do You Think You Are

“Lord our Lord, how  majestic is your name in all the earth!”

“When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon, and the stars which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?” Psalm 8

“By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return." Genesis 3: 19

When we consider God, his majesty, his mighty works, his saving grace, and his care for us who do we think we are when we  refuse to give him the honor and glory that he deserves? Who are we to refuse to worship him and diligently search the Holy Scriptures to know him more completely? Who are we to say all manner of things that contradict who Jesus is and devise our own plan for living; a plan that caters to our selfish desires?

Recently I had someone tell me that I was too extreme in the way that I serve God. Going to church every Sunday and worshipping with fellow believers (which is what we are supposed to do), serving with the body of Christ by giving our time and our money, taking every opportunity to carry on Spiritual Conversations, as our pastor mentioned yesterday, are these actions too extreme? We who were created by God, who came from dust, who were crowned with glory and honor by him, and were made rulers over the works of his hand, the creatures of earth, the birds of the sky, and the fish that swim in the seas, being given the responsibility of caring for his creation and proclaiming the name of Jesus, how can anything we do be too extreme?

How can we be accused of being too spiritual when we tell others about our Savior Jesus Christ? He did not come in secret. He did not hide who he was, nor why he came. A man, yet God in flesh is how he came. He said that he was the Light of the world. He called God His very own father. He said, “I have come that all may have life, eternal life.” He said if everyone remained silent the rocks along the road would praise him and cry out with cheers. Jesus let it be known that he came to draw all men unto himself. But it is for us to lift him high, lift him up so that others might see him and be healed of their sin. He let it be known that he was the Son of God, the Messiah. Over and over and over again Jesus made no mistake about who he was, what he came to this world to do, and what he expected of those who chose to follow him. He showed the world that he overcame death. He presented himself as the resurrected Savior.

Today too many Christians are hiding, Christians in secret, afraid that someone might accuse them of being too extreme or too spiritual. We need more Christians to come out from their hiding places to tell others about Jesus. In a world that is turning away from God and in danger of dying eternally without Jesus there is no way we can be too extreme. If we do not tell them about Jesus, who will? How can we keep quiet and not speak the name of our blessed Savior Jesus Christ? How sad if we allow inanimate objects do our bidding.  

One day every person and every creature will bow before Him and cry out his name and confess that he is the Lord of Lords, and King of Kings, Jesus! There has never been anyone like him. For many that last testimony as to who he is will be too late. God wants extreme Christians. He  doesn’t want excuses. He wants obedience.

Pork Chop

One thing that I have noticed as I get older is how young people, most often, fail to understand when you are joking with them. They take everything literally. I love to watch the reactions of waitresses when I have the opportunity to mess with them in that way.

Yesterday Sherri, Clay, Susan, Holly and I ate at Texas Road House after church. Now that Brady is driving he never joins us for Sunday lunch. The waitress took our order and Sherri ordered a pork chop. We all ordered and sat eating peanuts while we waited. Finally, a young girl, not the one who was our waitress, came with our food. I’ve never understood how those girls can carry all that food without spilling it every where. Anyway she looked directly at Sherri and said, “Pork chop?” Sherri replied, “Yes!” Anyone who knows Sherri can understand how gracious and excited her response was.

I don’t know why I have the thoughts I do, and I don’t know why I vocalize them for others to hear, but I said to the girl without thinking, “How did you know? That is her nickname! We call her Pork Chop!”

The young lady had the funniest look on her face. She didn’t know if she should laugh, or if she should respond with some kind of compliment. I think she thought I was serious. Susan  couldn’t quit laughing, Sherri was embarrassed, Clay thought it was funny, and of course Holly did not laugh. “That’s not funny”,  was her response. I love it when I can embarrass Holly. The confused girl quickly distributed our food and left to be seen no more at our table.

My cat fish wasn’t  very good and neither were the fries. Maybe I had eaten too many peanuts. But I enjoyed our time at the restaurant. We finished and old Pork Chop and I went home. I was thinking about my cat fish. I knew a baseball player named Cat Fish.  That might be a good name for me. People could say, “Here come Pork Chop and Cat Fish!” Naw, Sherri wouldn’t like that at all.

The Humor of Diabetes

Diabetes is a terrible disease. The public doesn’t readily spot someone who is a diabetic. Most of us who fight the disease look and act like everybody else. Unless we mention our problem others would never know. We have days when we don’t feel well, but we continue our daily activities because if we didn’t we would never get anything done. As we age those days of not feeling well are more common. The older we get the more damage diabetes does to our bodies. Most diabetics don’t die from diabetes. They die because of the damage it has done to our kidneys, our heart, our nervous system and other body parts.

I have had Type 1 Diabetes since I was an older teen. I got an insulin pump about 15 years ago. Before the pump I was taking 4 insulin injections every day. I have taken insulin every day for almost 50 years.  I have done well with my diabetic care. Exercise has been my savior. Until I had my back surgery (not  diabetic related) in 2012, I ran 5 to 10 miles most days. From the time I was 50 until I reached 58 I had logged 10,000 miles. Diabetics can prolong their lives if they take care of themselves by seeing the endocrinologist every 3 to 4 months, exercise regularly, avoid becoming overweight, and staying on a healthy diet. Let me add one other bit of advice. Avoid extremely low blood sugars.

I have come close to dying several times because my blood sugar got extremely low. The worst of those experiences was kind of funny. I was by myself at home. There was a ball game I was into and I forgot to eat. By the time I realized something was wrong I didn’t have the sense to get something to eat. The last thing I remembered was that I was in the basement. When I finally came to I was in the bed up stairs soaking wet from sweating. I had completely passed out. Sherri had gotten home just in time to revive me.

She had about panicked, and was able to get enough sugar in me to cause me to respond. My response was to point to the ceiling and say, “The light, the light!” over and over again. As it turned out the light I was seeing was not coming from heaven. Sherri had turned on the ceiling light when she came in, and for some weird reason that was the light I was responding to. Needless to say that response scared Sherri to death.  Diabetics don’t make sense when their blood sugar drops too low.

Sherri had called 911. In the meantime I was able to drink some orange juice becoming almost normal again. When the EMTs rang the doorbell I greeted them by telling them I was ok and they could leave. Obviously I was not completely normal. Sherri let them in, and they examined me and stayed until they knew I was truly ok.

I have had a few near death experiences over the years, but overall I have done well. My feet are just now beginning to give me problems from neuropathy. I have recently reached level 2 with my kidney disease, but that’s not bad. I feel good most of the time. I can still walk 3 to 5 miles a day. A nurse told me I would live for twenty five more years. That may not be a good thing. I don’t think Sherri can take it if that happens.

The Ease of Finding Trouble

They were not really bad boys, but they seemed to have a knack for getting into trouble. The younger one was more prone to venture toward the wayward path than his older brother. Very early in life, at the age of 7, he began sneaking cigarettes from his dad’s store, and he developed an insatiable desire for nicotine. Many stories could be told about Mike Brady’s mischievous past as well as his older brother’s plunge into the pit of darkness. But for now only one short story seems appropriate.

Both of the Brady boys spent time working in their dad’s grocery store. By the time they were teenagers they knew the business and could do most anything that needed to be done. Their favorite area to work  was in the meat department. Cutting up chickens, slicing bacon and lunch meat, trimming various cuts of beef for packaging, and making hamburger meat and sausage kept them busy and out of trouble, most of the time. They loved running the beef and pork strips through the grinder to make the best hamburger and sausage in Logan County.

One day they had just finished making sausage. The pork had been cut up for the grinder, the spices had been added and the final product had been packaged, weighed and priced. The only thing left to do was to wash the greasy, spice covered lard bucket that had held that delicious sausage. Up to that point all had gone well-no fighting, not even an argument. But trouble loomed on the horizon.

I’m not sure whose idea it was. I am not sure if the older Brady boy suggested the act that was about to occur, but it was Mike who carried out the dastardly deed. I do remember that the day was Friday which meant that Doris, one of the employees, had gotten her hair done the day before. Thursday was her day off, and she always went to the hairdresser on that day.  Hair doo's, as that sort of thing was called in the 1960’s, were kind of tall and very popular. That was the hairstyle that Doris was sporting. As I have mentioned I am not sure who suggested sneaking up behind Doris and putting that greasy lard bucket on her head, but that is exactly what Mike did.

Well, what followed did not go well for Victor Brady’s younger son. Doris’ reaction was something like one would expect from someone who had gotten their hand caught in that meat grinder. She was a good Christian lady so she did not cuss. I had known her all my life, and I had no idea how mad that little lady could get. Mike looked like he had been trapped in a room with an angry bull. I think maybe he would have preferred the angry bull when he saw his dad barge through the door. Doris told him her side of the story, and Mike had no side to tell.

Doris went to the lady’s room, I suppose,  to pick out all the sage and spices from her hair and perhaps to cry. Mike, however, went with his dad to the storage room where he bravely received his very painful punishment. There was no screaming or loud crying, but the sound of a belt hitting Mike’s bottom could be heard all over the store. The Brady boys had learned how to take their punishment like men. They had had plenty of practice because finding trouble was easy for them.

Maybe the Nicest Man

To say that something is the best, the biggest, the tastiest or that someone is the smartest, the prettiest, or the fastest most likely would be highly debatable. I am going out on a limb, and say that my friend, Gerald Hildabrand, was the nicest man I ever knew. I have known Gerald since the late 1950’s when we were both young boys.

The first time I saw Gerald was on a Sunday morning when he visited my Sunday school class. I will respectfully say that he looked different. He wore a little suit and a hat. Not a one of us ever wore a suit much less a hat. Gerald was probably 9 or 10 and I was around 8 years old. There was a boy in our class who was a big bully. I was his target several times over the years, but on this day he decided to pick on Gerald. He laughed at him, made some ugly remarks about him , and finally took his hat off of him and stomped it. I remember feeling sorry for Gerald because I knew what he was feeling. But Gerald handled it well, and he and his family kept coming to Mt. Pleasant Baptist Church. In fact, he was still a committed member of Mt. Pleasant when he died this past Sunday morning.

I’ve known a lot of nice people over the years, probably as many as anybody, but none any nicer than Gerald. There were some times I saw Gerald get very close to failing to be nice. The first time was when we were playing plastic ball in a friend’s backyard. We called the field Watermelon Park. We were not little kids. We were teens, and some of our teachers even played when we got together on Sunday afternoons. We made up rules that were different than baseball. Our bats and balls were even altered to make the game a bit more challenging.

One of the rules which may not have been the best was that the pitcher called balls and strikes. Whenever he played, our high school basketball coach, Bob Birdwhistell, pitched for his team. On the particular day that Gerald came close to not being nice he was on the other team. The coach loved to try to rile Gerald. I am not accusing Coach of making bad calls when he pitched to Gerald, but several of his pitches were somewhat suspect, and Gerald thought the calls were downright horrible. After Gerald’s third at bat he had had enough. Coach Bird had called him out three times in a row. Of course Gerald argued the calls, but coach just laughed. So Gerald quit and walked home. The problem for us was that all the equipment belonged to Gerald, and when he left he took his bats and balls and we couldn’t play any more.

I taught with Gerald for twelve years at Lewisburg School. And yes, Coach Birdwhistell taught there as well. Most of the men faculty had lunch every day in a very small teacher’s lounge. The women rarely came in there. I cannot even begin to tell, and for my own protection, would not dare tell what went on in that room. Somebody usually got roasted during that daily gathering. Sometimes it was not pretty, but over all we had a great time. Gerald received his share of roastings, most of the time from Coach Birdwhistell. Gerald would try his best to look angry, and not show his Mr. Nice Guy look, but he just couldn’t do it. There was a mirror in the lounge. When Gerald wanted to look angry he would walk over to the mirror, look at his reflection, and try his best to fix his face to appear tough and angry. But he couldn’t do it. He was too nice to look the part.

Gerald Hildabrand loved his students, his co-workers, his friends, and was always more than glad to lend a helping hand to anyone in need. Gerald even loved Coach Birdwhistell!  I left Logan County in 1983 and have lived from Texas to North Carolina over the years. Gerald and I stayed in touch, and if anything happened that he thought I should know about he would give me a call. I can’t remember things like Gerald could. If I wanted to know a date that something happened, or the name of a student I taught at Lewisburg, or something about sports, mostly baseball, I would call Gerald and 99% of the time he would know the answer. He was always excited to help me and would go out of his way to do so. But most of the time it was two good friends catching up, and it was always good to talk to him.

I don’t know anybody that didn’t love Gerald, or have the highest respect for him. That little boy I first met in the late 1950’s at church grew up to be a real man.  Unlike that bully who treated him so unkindly, Gerald earned the respect of everyone who knew him. A person can not achieve such an honored distinction without being nice.

Tomorrow or today, depending on when you read this, many of you will meet at the church for Gerald’s home going. I wish I could be there. You will remember and say goodbye to a wonderful man and friend. Gerald cannot be replaced. He will be greatly missed. Gerald leaves for us a most valuable legacy, a legacy of kindness, love, and an example of being very, very nice. Traits that each of us should desire.

Farewell my dear friend.