Coulda Had Fun Sometime

For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison. -2 Corinthians 4:17

Thinking about Sunday's sermon this past week.

Suffering.

1 Peter 4:12-19 is not the only passage in the Bible that addresses Christian suffering and our proper response to it.

I have suffered.

Because temptation is suffering.

You now, the urge to reply in kind, to crush the other person with witty repartee, or in other words to be just plain mean because someone is being unkind to you.

That Tolar competition gene; you remember the one that spurs me to win at all cost.

But another thing from Sunday.

The session meeting.

This particular one lasted over two hours and we wrestled with many issues, some thorny, others not so much.

In the midst of it all was not a spirit of burden, but one of good fellowship and camaraderie.

See, I am blessed to serve with a group of godly, dedicated men who are also among the zaniest group of fellows I know.

And if you don't think godliness and nuttiness can co-exist, I invite you to think of the truly joyful Christians you know.

At the end of it all, Bro. Billy said a cool thing. He told us how he enjoys working with us and how he loves us and how we make serving Christ fun.

Thanks, Bro. Billy. We love you too, man and don't we just have fun?

I'm Trying, Wingo, I'm Trying Real Hard

Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might....-Ecclesiastes 9:10a

Old and full of years.

That's me, I reckon. Though some would say "full of something else."

Full of blessings, I calls it.

Good health.

A wonderful church family and the ability and opportunity to serve alongside people who set such an example of dedication and love.

A little something to keep me busy.

You must have noticed that we each have been given a mission field to witness in.

One of the reasons I will work as long as the LORD gives me health.

So I drive this company's truck the 50 or so miles to Murray, KY each morning and return to our various customers with the parts they need to do their jobs.

A chance to renew old acquaintances. And make new ones.

As Karl Childers once said, "He coulda had fun sometime. Ummm-hmm."

Thanks. I believe I will.

To Do What Is Evil

"I have found you, because you have sold yourself to do what is evil in the sight of the LORD." -1 Kings 21:20b


This is NOT a political diatribe.

I browse facebook mainly to keep up with what is going on with friends and family, especially those I don't get to see all that often.

I did see something interesting today. I friend of long standing and one whose intelligence I greatly admire shared an article positing that there may be instances of demonic possession in the U.S. congress.

And while I tend to believe that there are "things goin' on that you don't know," I have one quibble with the notion put forth in the article.

This may be just me being nit-picky, but I understand the idea of possession to be an involuntary thing. Filmic images of poor innocent Regan or Emily Rose or countless others ( there must be thousands of these productions) come to mind and each of these is being victimized by the forces of evil.

If you will allow the premise that there IS demonic activity in the halls of Congress, then I believe what we have here is another thing entirely.

Could we begin with the understanding that every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart is only evil all the time?

Heard a great sermon this past Sunday wherein the pastor informed us that marriage is not a competition, but the uniting of a man and woman into "one flesh."

Power and control. Is this not a temptation for the best(?) of us?

How much more so, do you suppose, in a place where these have become idols?

And one thing we know about the worship of idols is that it involves a conscious choice. As in the story of Ahab's confrontation
with Elijah.

Choices were made.

And here is my quibble: in the article, the spirit of Jezebel is cited as the source of the wickedness in high places. Yet the 1 Kings account sets forth a constant chain of conscious decision-making, each step leading to the next and so on to the end of the story.

You may say that Jezebel was possessed by demons, but it seems more likely that she was ruled by the desire to control her world.

A self-destructive tendency, in our personal situations as well as in the public realm.

And so we pray. And we vote. And we have these discussions, though it seems that personal contact is preferable to the public forum.

I do have one political observation after all, if you will allow it: would it not be beneficial to our legislators if we removed them, on a regular basis, from the temptations we have mentioned?

Clean Sheets

...the LORD gave and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD. -Job 1:21b

I put fresh sheets on the bed yesterday.

I cannot help but think of my wife whenever I do this and her delight in such a simple task and always (really, ALWAYS) exclaiming, "Clean sheets, Junior!"

I cannot see her face in my mind.

But there are pictures, many pictures. And memories so vivid of acts of kindness and loving care. And laughter.

Small things, you might say, but precious things that bear me up throughout the days.

And hope.

How do people do it, I often wonder, who have no hope of the resurrection? What good are the memories of good times past without the sure and certain promise of the life to come?

I cannot "only imagine."

But I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that day.

We shall meet again.

Signposts on the Road to Salvation: Friendship

...and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.-Proverbs 18:24b

"There's no explaining the chemistry between two people," I heard a man speak concerning a nearly 60 year friendship.

I met Frank Dalton in the early '90's. We worked together, then lost track of each other until around 2000, when he came to work where I was.

And the talks began. Peace talks, as it turns out.

But not peace between Frank and I. There was already that, though he laughingly informed me that I was the same age as his dad.

This would be a peace of a different kind and, early on, he offered to share it with me.

It seems odd, doesn't it, that we can tell (for the most part) those who don't possess that peace. I long now, as he did then, to share that peace with beloved family and friends.

Knowing what peace consists of, he began to invite me to his church. And I would offer some excuse. And he would smile and continue the conversation, never forgetting, on another day, to extend the invitation once again. And so it went.

The rest of the story is for later, since all this seemed to occur in stages, first one step, then another.

Some things never change however, and now I am the same age as the granddads of the friends where I work.

And I seek to share the peace that has been given to me.

Signposts On the Road to Salvation

We were discussing dreams.

We all have them. Not all of us remember them.

Do they all mean something? Possibly not.

Could it be, do you think, that these seemingly random wanderings of the subconscious mind have (at least part of the time) real significance?

The song lyrics quoted above are from a dream I had some months after my dad died. An audio dream. No visuals at all, just this song as if I were hearing on the radio.

Rodney and I sat up all night playing music on the night our father died. "Wish you were here" seemed to have special import to us and we played it twice.

But it was the first line which haunted my dream, months later.

As though I could hear my dad's voice repeating that line as it played.

I was an infidel, you see.

That line reverberated like a warning; do you really think you can tell "heaven from hell," you who know so little (if anything) about either?

You may call me a mystic or merely superstitious. I call it a beginning.

Within a few more months, my friend Frank came to work at Union City Ford and we began to talk.

There is this verse which may or may not have meaning for this situation. I think of it often:

"...your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions." Joel 2:28b, Acts 2:17b

Are you hearing this song, Little Brother? Wish you were here and I pray the Lord that He send you a true friend.

3-16-19

On this Saturday past, I stood at the highest point in Maple Hill Cemetery, overlooking the Mississippi River as it flowed past Helena, Arkansas.

Gathered there with my oldest daughter and myself was a small group of people come to pay tribute to Patrick Ronayne Cleburne on the day before his birthday.

Though a son of Ireland, he was also a son of the South and so akin to the sons and daughters who had come to remember him.

The speaker related Cleburne's life story and his service to his adopted home. But he also spoke of those traditions and values which bind us together.

My mind wandered and I reflected on the reasons I had come home; to renew old acquaintances, to see the old places once more, but most of all, to strengthen and renew family ties strained (if that is the right word) by time and distance.

The next day we worshipped in the church where I grew up, sitting in the pew with a memorial plaque bearing my father's name.

God blessed this past weekend, as He often does, above and beyond what I had asked or expected.

I am grateful for the home where I have lived for the past thirty years and all those who are and have been part of my life there.

But I am so thankful also for the place from which I came, and the people who made and continue to make that place special in my heart.

As the song says, Old times there are not forgotten.

Look Away, Dixie Land.