Today My Friend Went To Heaven

Today my friend died. Dion Ainsworth who I first met in 1983 when I became pastor of the Woodland Baptist Church in Beaumont, Texas went to be with His Lord today (May 18, 2013) just eleven days after suffering a massive heart attack.

In the years that followed that meeting he and I worked together on many projects. You see he was the Director of Christian Social Missions for the Golden Triangle Baptist Association and I was Chairman of the Christian Social Missions Committee of the Association. Technically that made me and my committee his overseers but in reality we were just another tool through whom he would do ministry. Roy Lambert was the Director of Missions and Ed Savage was the Director Christian Education but as much as I loved these two men neither held a candle to Dion when it came to work product.

Dion was tireless. During those years such ministries as Opportunity Camp, Calvary House, and the Crisis Hotline came into being. Dion tapped into the talents and skills of laymen in just about every church in the Association.

I remember that when Roy Lambert retired I thought we, the Association, should look no further than Dion for his replacement. I think he was the right man at the right time for the Association  but not enough others saw him the way I did.

There are many memories and there is little value in recounting them all. They only serve to prove what I have always known and that is, no one ever labored more faithfully than did Dion.

I  not only remember him as being a hard working man but I knew him to be a gentle spirit. Dion work hard because he had a heart for people . . . he really cared and he knew what he did really mattered. It mattered to the future of poor and underprivileged children: it mattered to troubled and unemployed families; and it mattered to him. Dion always had time to help a troubled life.

I shall miss hearing the tone of his soft voice as we discussed virtually any and every thing. I do not question God's decision to call Dion home but I do wonder sometimes about what He was thinking. Dion, I am so glad God placed you in my life.

Feel free to leave your own thoughts below,  I'll let Ray Boltz say it for me . . . .

I dreamed I went to heaven and You were there with me
We walked upon the streets of gold Beside the crystal sea.

We heard the angels singing Then someone called your name.
You turned and saw this young man And he was smiling as he came.

And he said, "Friend you may not know me now"  And then he said, "But wait"
You used to teach my Sunday School When I was only eight.

And every week you would say a prayer  Before the class would start.
And one day when you said that prayer  I asked Jesus in my heart."

Thank you for giving to the Lord I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord I am so glad you gave.

Then another man stood before you And said, "Remember the time
A missionary came to your church And his pictures made you cry.

You didn't have much money But you gave it anyway.
Jesus took the gift you gave And that's why I am here today."

Thank you for giving to the Lord I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord I am so glad you gave.

One by one they came Far as the eye could see
Each life somehow touched By your generosity.

Little things that you had done Sacrifices made.
Unnoticed on the earth In heaven now proclaimed.

And I know up in heaven you're not supposed to cry.
But I am almost sure There were tears in your eyes.

As Jesus took your hand  And you stood before the Lord.
He said, "My child look around you. Great is your reward."

Thank you for giving to the Lord I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord I am so glad you gave.

Thank you for giving to the Lord I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord I am so glad you gave

Because They Have Given So Much . . .

By now, most of my readers know that I am a semi-retired Baptist Pastor. Actually I am officially fully retired but because I don't think one ever retires from God's calling I refer to myself as "semi-retired."  In becoming "semi-retired" I have joined the ranks of a very special group of men and women. The one common denominator that we have in our lives is that we have experienced a very definite and precise call from God to what has now come to be called "vocational" ministry.

Personally, I have never thought of myself as a "professional" or "Vocational" minister. I have always thought of myself as a "preacher of the Gospel."  I remember clearly the night as a teenage boy I yielded my life plans to God's plan for my life. It was at the Boulevard Baptist Church in Pasadena, Texas.  Estol Williams was preaching, probably from Romans as he spent two years preaching through that book, but I don't really recall. I really wasn't listening. Instead I was reading in John 12 and when I got to verse 32 which reads, "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me," I knew what I was to do for the rest of my life . . .  I was to lift Jesus up. For me that meant nothing less than becoming a preacher of the Gospel.

Now I know that what I just said has nothing to the context and meaning of the passage. Clearly Jesus is speaking of His own death by crucifixion. In fact John shortly after verse 32 confirms this. However, on this day, God used this verse to speak to my heart about my lifes' work.  So that day my focus changed from becoming a historian to becoming a preacher. I pursued that calling like a laser beam and have never thought of myself since as anything more or less than a preacher of the Gospel.

So strong was this calling that whenever I went to a church I was quick to tell the "Pulpit Committee" (now refered to as Pastor Search Committees), Deacons and congregations that they did not pay me to preach. I wanted them to understand that when it came to preaching I worked for God not them. I preached for free. They paid me for all the other stuff involved in being a pastor of a Baptist Church.  The pulpit was my domain and my priority.

I went to school earned a BA degree, a M.Div. degree and a D.Min. degree and have been a student of the word of God all my life all to the end that I might understand and proclaim God's word and will to His people and to those who did not know him. Along with that preaching and teaching there were countless hospital and home visits; enumerable  meeting and conferences attended; countless marriages and funerals performed; people counseled and comforted, and a multitude of people met and countries visited.  The one thing I failed to focus on was my own old age. What does a God called preacher of the Gospel live on once he is no longer able earn his keep.  Here's what I have discovered. I am not alone in this. Most of the preachers I know who retire struggle to provided even the most basic of life's needs. 

When I talk to most lay people (non-clergy) about preacher's retirement they seem to think we were all pastors of a mega-church. I am here to say NOT!  Most of us never served in a large church. Someone once said, "God must especially love poor folks because He made so many of them." I'd paraphrase that a bit and say, God must really like small and medium size churches as He seems to have so many of them."  Most "preachers" never serve in a large place and by far-and-away most preachers never have a salary that permits putting anything aside for retirement.

I remember the first church I pastored my entire salary package (base pay, retirement allowance {$15 month}, insurance of all kinds allowance, and book allowance) came to $9800 per year. Since I didn't opt out of social security (one of the smartest things I didn't do) that came out of the $9800 as well. Glad they had a parsonage (manse). I'm betting most preachers my age could tell the same story.  It was a struggle but, after all, God called us to preach not retirement planning. In fact most of us thought we would die in the pulpit. Many of us have even said that we would like to spend our lives preaching and then have God call us home in the middle of a sermon.  By the way, that has happened to a few preachers over the years but will not happen for most of us.  No, most of us will because of health issues, or age, or some other circumstance actually have to retire. It is then that we realize, "I should have done something to prepare for this." Well, some of us did.

I stayed in Social Security, opened a Plan-A retirement account with the Annuity Board, and later migrated to a 403B account with Guidestone.  The Social Security is not much, the Plan-A was safe but small, but the 403B account took some major hits in the last few years. Twice it was hit hard as the result of financial institution speculation and Wall Street's machinations. So after 25 years of contributions and earnings the action of people other than myself left me with a greatly reduced retirement account. It would have been worse but God put an investment banker in my life who gave me some good advice. I took it and got half my retirement account back over a three year period. Unfortunately it means my retirement income is about 1/2 what it would have been but thankfully it is as a preacher friend of mine says, "adequate."  We get by.

I knew when God called me he would provide for my needs. And, you know what, He has. He put us through College as a young couple, Through seminary and nearly 40 years of ministry. Over the years we have learned to depend upon the Lord (could there be a song in that). He has faithfully supplied all our needs and a great many of our wants. And like I said, our retirement income isn't what we planned or expected but it is adequate to our needs. Can't say much about the wants though.

Not every pastor is so fortunate and because they are not I want to make a few suggestions for your consideration and action:

1. If you are a member of a small to medium size church (any denomination) talk to you pastor about his retirement. If your church does not provide a retirement allowance ask your leadership, "Why not."  Get informed.

2. Contact your denominations retirement organization. Most denominations have one. For Southern Baptist it is  GuideStone Financial Services.  They can explain all the various retirement options available to your pastor.

3. Get involved in Mission Dignity.  Since 1918, GuideStone Financial Resources (Formerly the Annuity Board of the SBC) has been on a “Mission” to provide “Dignity” to retired Southern Baptist ministers, workers or their widows.  As I stated above many served small, rural churches that paid only modest salaries and couldn’t afford to contribute to their pastors’ retirement. Often, these loyal soldiers of the cross had to work extra jobs just to make ends meet.

Mission:Dignity currently helps more than 2,000 people with extra money needed for housing, food and vital medications. It has also ensured a well-deserved dignity, independence and, often, the ability to continue serving. These are men and women who have faithfully served God’s people and now find themselves struggling to meet even basic needs.  Give them a call and see how you can make a difference.  Visit Mission:Dignity of FaceBook.

Addendum:  Since I posted this I have received a fouth suggestion . This one is for those who belong to the large and/or mega church. It's something their own church does but I suggest is something any church can do. Churches can make Mission:Dignity a part of their missions budget. Anothr thing he mentioned was that some of the Sunday School Classes adopt a particular retired minister and send them a monthly stipend directly. It occurred to me when I heard this that even if you are cash strapped you could get a group together and cut their grass every week or so. That's about $30 a month they could use for, say medicine or maybe just day out with lunch. As my Dad used to tell me, Son, don't just stand there do something."

God Is Not Truant . . .or, He Doesn't Skip School

I have listened for more years than I care to admit to friends who believe that somehow God, like some misbehaving student, has been expelled from our public schools. Every time something terrible happens in a school the first thing I hear is not sympathy for the families who suffer loss but,  “This is what happens when you

take God out of the schools.”

Now don’t misunderstand me at this point. I grew up in a day when beginning in the first grade (no kindergarten or pre-school in those days) until high school graduation we began every school day with a morning devotion, prayer and the pledge to the American flag. I don’t know who arranged all that in elementary school and Junior High school but when I got to High school it was our Youth for Christ Club. That club meet on campus prior to our home room classes.  But even back in my day it was not the best attended club.  The other thing was that we did not, as best I recall, have classes that used the Bible as a text book for religion or as literature.

I still think this is a good idea and that it served some noble ends.  I am also pretty sure that at the time not too many listened attentively to the devotion nor participated in the prayer. However, virtually everyone recited the pledge to the flag. Truth be known that was probably because we were required to stand for the pledge and not the other elements of our morning ritual.

Then along came various non-Christian religious and non-religious groups who wanted equal time or the practices stopped altogether. It proved impractical to accommodate every group wanting access to the school facility and the student’s attention. Besides, the Christian parents didn’t want the Muslim teaching their children and vis a versa. The atheist didn’t want anyone teaching anything religious. All sorts of things were tried to accommodate these various groups. Ultimately the atheist carried the day when they managed to get a federal court to rule that proscribed prayer and Bible study in school violate the First Amendment to the United States Constitution. So it became the law of the land that proscribed prayer and Bible study would not be allowed in the school.

It should also be noted that the hard core evolutionist joined the fray by pointing out that “Creationalism” was a religious belief and not a scientific hypothesis and therefore it too had no place in the public school.  It didn’t matter that in actuality evolution and creationalism were both working hypothesis that had to be established by experiment and logic.

I have said all of this to say that the courts have indeed pretty much frightened public schools into doing away with any mention of God from a Christian viewpoint from the school day. School districts have eliminated morning prayers and devotions; they have banned Christian clubs from school facilities; a few allow the Bible to be taught for its literary value but not its content. In Texas there is even a group that monitor these kinds of class to insure that they follow the stringent guidelines laid down by the state. 

I must state that while I agree with much of the logic behind these decisions I do not think that the first amendment of the American Constitution was intended to take religion out of the public square. My personal take is that the Government is prohibited by that amendment from establishing, supporting, sustaining one religious group over another. The reason: America was to have no state religion as was seen in England between the Church and the Government and the King and the Archbishop. The Amendment was intended to create a wall of separation so that the Government did not control the church and the church did not control the government.  It was never intended as a wall of separation to preclude either from having access to the public square.  Indeed, it was intended to open the public square to all religious persuations. It was to prevent either from intruding onto the other.

I offer the following just to give the reader a sense of the history of the first ammendment:   On highway 20 in Virginia, about seven miles east of Orange there is a monument with the embossed image of John Leland's face. Leland was an influential Virginian and Baptist preacher who championed religious liberty prticularly as expressed by Thomas Jefferson. Many historians believe this monument marks the very spot where James Madison and John Leland met to discuss Madisons candidacy for Virginia delegate to the Convention to ratify the Federal Constitution. It was at that meeting that Leland pressed Madison concerning his stand on religious freedom and individual rights. Madison promised Leland if he was elected, he would do all in his power to see that religious freedom and individual freedom would be incorporated into the Constitution by amendment. Elder John Leland and hence the Orange Baptists based on Madison's promises gave their support to Madison election.  Madison Expressed his views in a document entitled, "A Memorial and Remonstrance."

As expected, Madison voted in favor of ratification of the Constitution and then, true to his word, he drafted and introduced twelve amendments to the Constitution. Amendment 3 of Madisons proposed Bill of Rights reads, "Congress shall make no laws establishing articles of Faith, or mode of worship, or prohibiting the free exercise of religion, or abridging freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble and to petition to the government for redress of grievances."

The members of the convention condensed Madisons proposed third article. In fact, they changed it to the First Amendment which reads; "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances."

I am also of the opinion that in our multi-cultural world state-sponsored religious exercises should not allowed in public schools.  But to exclude voluntary expressions is also wrong. Religion can be expressed voluntarily without being coercive in dozens of ways by the students and even in the classroom.  The cheerleaders in Newton, Texas have demonstrated this. 

Having said all of this I want to say loudly and clearly . . .  GOD IS NOT TRUANT!  God does not skip school and cannot be kept out of class. While it is possible to prohibit proscribed prayers and Bible classes in our public school it is impossible to remove God from anywhere. God is Omnipotent! He is everywhere all the time. To declare that the state has removed God from the school is to be guilty of idolatry. It is to ascribe to the state a power that it does not have . . . the power to move God in any direction against His will. The government at every level is infinitely impotent when it comes to God.  It is God who establishes the government. The government is His servant as much as Balaam’s Ass was His servant.

We have not banned God from our schools, our culture or the public square because we don’t have that kind of power it would take to do that. The Scripture is replete with references to this fact. Just two examples are: “God is an ever present help in time of trouble . . . .”  “If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.  If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me,  your right hand will hold me fast.”

Some will say, “You are straining at a gnat.”  I beg to differ. To say that by removing prayer and other Christian expressions from the school, or the public square or from anywhere is the moral equivalent of removing God is idolatry. It is to make someone, some institution or some movement bigger than God.  Richard Lovelace famously stated, “Stone walls do not a prison make,  Nor iron bars a cage.” The same is true about God. You cannot put God in a box and you cannot keep Him from being where He chooses to be.

So, what is the conclusion of the matter for the Christian. It is this: Whether in a public school, the public square, the local church or wherever you are “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."

So my friend while you may not be allowed to pray publically in school and while you may not hold a Bible class on campus and the public square is off limits for public displays of personal or corporate faith you can be assured that God is there with you. In fact He got there before you did to prepare the way for you.

Now briefly, a word about tragedies that happen. After any and every  tragedy is a particularly appropriate time to reach out to God for comfort and guidance. We’ll never be able to explain things like what happened in Newtown with the murders of so many children. Politicians cannot explain it; theologians have no answer; and social scientists don’t have a clue and every self-serving, simplistic and simply wrong explanations by media talking heads will not do.
 
I am thankful for that cadre of faithful ministers of the Gospel of Jesus Christ who after these kinds of tragedies take to their pulpits and offer the kind of leadership that enables us to find our way through the wilderness of our sense of hurt, bewilderment and loss. They give us words of hope and do not use these tragedies to further their personal agendas and fill their war chests. Instead they lead their congregants, many who came to worship with heavy hearts, find hope in the Eternal God who was present in the midst of the tragedy and in the midst of the congregation.

He Really Was A Good Man

The last few weeks have been less than stellar for me. I spent Christmas and the week following in the hospital trying to get over a bout of pneumonia. During that same time my step father-in-law passed away. Being in the hospital prevented me from attending his funeral and I feel very badly about that. You see my father-in-law, Floyd Dees, was one of the finest men I have ever known.
I well remember the day I first met him. He had just married my wife's mother and they had come to Texas from North Carolina to "meet the family." They pulled up in front of our home and we went out to greet them and immediately a bond was formed. I think we played five rounds of golf that week including the newly opened Tour 18.

Over the years we traveled back and forth as did they and the bond between us only strengthen. You see Floyd and I have many of the same passions. We were both avid golfers. Floyd never seemed as "at home" as when he was on the golf course. He was generous as a playing partner and he was unrelenting as a competitor. Even when he was well into his 70's he could still put together a round in the 60's. I remember the day he and I were playing, (mostly for me as his COPD was already making playing hard) a young twosome joined us and were sort of pushing us. Floyd's competitive spirit got up and he played the back nine at the course in Hope Mills in 32 to beat them. Floyd was in his 70's. As we drove back to the house he was absolutely worn out. He said, "Bro. David, (that's what always he called me) I'm not sure it was worth it to beat them that way." I looked at him and said, "You know it was" and he chuckled a little.

The other passion we shared was fishing. I had begun fishing as child with an uncle and continued for many years. In fact for many years I carried two things in my car trunk - a set of golf clubs and a couple of fishing poles. We didn't fish as much as we played golf but I recall a few outings along the way. One was a day spent on Hope Mills Lake in Hope Mills, North Carolina. It was there, leisurely drifting on that lake that he told me about his growing up and the roll that lake had played in his life. Turns out he not only fished that lake but he was also baptized in it.

It was during those times that we talked about anything and everything. We talked about family; we talked a little church; we talked a lot of golf; drank gallons of coffee and ate a whole bunch of biscuits. It was during that time that I realized how much Floyd and my dad were alike. I suppose because the were children of their times but alike none-the-less. Both men didn't say much unless they had something to contribute. Both men were keen observers of people. Both men were Mechanics by trade. Both men served in combat during WWII in Europe. In fact, I remember him mentioning one day that he never got his "ruptured duck" when he was discharged. He said,  "I always wanted one to wear in my coat."  When I returned home I sent him one that my Dad had.

For a long time my wife and I would fly or drive to North Carolina to visit regularly. In fact we were set to go this past Fall when my own health issue got in the way. During those visits we would visit with their friends; I'd work on the house and property; and we'd just sit and visit for long periods. If his son were announcing local football, or coaching a girls softball game or just about anything else he would be there.  If I were in town I'd be there alonside him.  I remember we nearly froze to death once watching a football game.  I even got to attend a couple of Dee's family reunions over the years.

Everywhere we went it seemed folks knew him. We'd go in a store and it was "Hello Mr. Dees." Check in at any North Carolina golf course and it "Mr. Dees, good to see you." Seems everyone knew him and respected him.  They always referred to him as "Mr. Dees."  Scripture says, "A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches, and favor is better than silver or gold." (prov 21:1)  I don't know about the silver and gold but the "good name" and "favor" he had in spades.

He was a generous man. He was always giving. He'd give people money just to enjoy their reaction. I recall spending a day with him in his little shop where he worked on golf clubs and fishing stuff. We had already played a round of golf that morning and during the round he had me try a Big Bertha Driver he recently bought.  As we were finishing up he handed me a sack with some ball markers and towels from prominent golf courses. Then he reached over and handed me the Big Bertha and said, "You hit this club pretty good today I want you to have it."   Additionally, you could hardly ever buy his lunch. He was going to pay his own way and yours too.

He was a true family man. I do not believe any son had the unqualified support of his father like Floyd's son Eddie. He was proud of the man he had become for which refused to take credit. I give it to him any way. He loved his grandchildren and took great joy in them But he also loved his step children and grandchildren. It didn't matter how you were connected to him, if you were connected he was going to love you and honor you.  I wouldn't trade my own Dad for anyone else but if my Dad had not been my father I wouldn't have been disappointed to have Floyd Dees to be that man. As it was I had the advantage in many ways of having it both ways.  Floyd was the age of my father when my father died when I first met him. So, I'll just claim him as my latter years Dad.

Lastly, I observed that Floyd was loved by children of all ages. I watched as his nieces and nephews interacted with him and he with them. I know how my own grand children felt about him. Then, when I saw the photos of him as a young man I realized he was like that all his life. Babies and children just captured his heart and he theirs.  One of my granddaughter's kept his photo on her vanity mirror for several year. Only recently moving it.

One of the hardest things for me to watch, even from a distance, was Floyd's physical deterioration. I had watched my own father suffer from the same thing. It hurt because I knew from the beginning of his diagnosis what he was facing and could almost lay down the mile markers. It all came to an end on December 22, 2012. Floyd Dees went to be with his Lord having fought a good fight and finished his course.

Mark Shriver wrote a book about his father, Sargent Shriver, entitled "A Good Man." It is a great book and worth reading. Well I am here to tell you that Floyd Dees was in every way imaginable A Good Man! One that I am proud to have known and who I am personally going to miss.

What if you Knew You Only Had Days to Live.

If you knew you had only a few months to live, how would you use that time? Would you allow despair to overwhelm you? Would you find a way to still have a life? How would you keep the fear of death from ruining the days you had left? Many people have considered these questions in theory, but when Mike Toby, pastor of Woodway Baptist Church near Waco, Texas was diagnosed with stage 4 glioblastoma, a fatal illness for which there is essentially no real treatment and no cure, he now has to face them in reality.

Mike has decided not to undergo any treatment. He explains his reasons in a video made for the church where he serves. You can view the video and draw your own conclusions. But for me, speaking as a fellow traveler, I understand and applaud Mike's choice.

Mike and I grew up in the same town, Pasadena, Texas. He is 18 days younger than me. We attended many of the same schools and even graduated together in 1965 as part of what I believe may be the best graduating class Pasadena High School has ever produced. Some might argue with me about that but they'd be wrong. We knew each other and while we were not "best buds" we shared many similar experiences along the way.

We were both members of the Baptist Churches where we received Christ as our Lord and Savior and were baptized. Mike was on the west side of town and I was on the east side. He grew up under the tutelage of Dalton Havard at Richey Street Baptist Church and I under Estol Williams at Boulevard Baptist.  Our town was full of Baptist churches and during the 1960's God was in the process of calling out from those churches a cadre of young "preacher boys" who would go on to literally take the gospel to the ends of the earth.

We believed, at least in the little "school of the prophets" to which I belonged that God was going to do a great and mighty work through us. We didn't realize at the time that if He used us at all that would in and of itself be a great and mighty work. We "preached" at the drop of a hat whether it was in a Sunday School Class in our home churches or for some vacationing pastor. We didn't see big church or little churches back then. All we saw was a chance to preach the "Word" and call people to faith in Jesus Christ.

I remember Mike leading out at school in our Youth for Christ group. He organized and enlisted people to do the morning devotions and payers over the school public address system and was a major player in organizing our Senior Banquet as a kind of substitute (not really) for the non-dancing Baptist etc.  I recall that he was sitting at the table just next to the one occupied by me, John Crocker and Mike Harris and our dates. (BTW - who at our table knocked the parfait on the floor) Seems Mike had the flashiest jacket in the place.

 Mike and I even attended the same University (Houston Baptist College in those days) for a while. I was there to become a preacher and Mike was there to meet his future wife (I jest). They've been together ever since. That's when our lives went in different directions though would not really be that different. As he and I sought to follow the Lord's leadership for our individual lives and ministries he ended up more or less on the west side of the state while I went east. I digress.

My point is that we, me, Mike and a whole bunch of other young "preacher boys" in Pasadena,  a good beginning. We were surrounded by people who encouraged us and yes even praised our often less than stellar efforts at ministry. The one thing of which we were constantly being reminded by our respective pastors and fellow church members was that any positive responses to our efforts was the result of God's Spirit and not our abilities. We really came to believe that God would meet our needs, anoint our lives for service and bless our efforts. This became so much a part of our lives that if we held a service and no one trusted Christ we literally ached with disappointment.

I remember my pastor telling me as he paraphrased Philippians 1:6 that the same God who had begun a good work in me would never abandon me, would give me grace for service and life, would fight my battles for me, and one day bring the work started to completion in a manner appropriate to His will. Philippians 1:1-6 became so much a part of my life that it appeared below my signature on nearly every letter I have written.

Having said all that I want come back to Mike and his situation. His election and calling have been made secure in Christ Jesus so death is not his enemy anymore. He has faced those questions raised in the very first paragraph of this writing knowing that the same God who began a work in him as a lad in Pasadena, Texas is bringing that work to completion and in the process will not leave or forsake him.

He is doing what he learned from a child . . . to walk by faith until his faith shall become sight. He knows that whether or not he ever stands on another platform and preaches to another gathering of people that he is right now preaching the greatest sermon of his life. The title is "The Sufficiency of God's Grace." - Trials may be dark on every hand and we may not understand all the ways that God will lead us o the blessed promised land but this one thing we know is that He will guide us with His eye as we follow until we die then He'll take us by our hand and lead us into that wonderful Beulah Land.

I read somewhere where some one wrote that Mike had spent 35 years at FBC Woodway telling them how to live but now he is showing them how to die. I remember well standing at my father's graveside in Houston's National Cemetery as we committed my Dad's mortal remains to the earth and prayed a prayer of thanksgiving for his life and saying, "in living your life you taught us how we should live and in your death you taught us how to die. For that I give thanks to God."

One of the Deacons at Mike's church reportedly said, "The Lord is using him to teach us how to die. Considering the fact we all have to die, this may be the best sermon he's ever going to preach," I learned a long time ago there are a lot of reasons not to argue with a Deacon but I don't know if this is the best sermon he ever preached but it certainly is one of the most important. I rather suspect to it the conclusion to the one his life has been preaching for a long time now.  Someone has said, I'd rather see a sermon than hear one any day." Well here's your chance. Pay close attention because it will tell you something about the grace and promises of God. Just keep in mind that what Mike is able to preach today is really the end of a sermon that began in Pasadena, Texas when a young boy became a child of God by faith in Jesus Christ.

Should the Lord elect to perform one of His miracles I am certain no one will object. In the meanwhile our prayers are with Mike and his family.

Both John and Charles Wesley, founders of the movement that became known as Methodism, claimed that one of the distinguishing features of the Christian was, among other things, how they faced death. John Wesley is reported to have said, Our people die well."  There is a book by Joseph D. McPherson entitled, "Our People Die Well:" Glorious Accounts of Early Methodists at Death's Door. I highly recommend you read it.

So I end with the words to my Mom's favorite hymn:
(ti αντιμετωπίσει πρόσωπο με τον Χριστό Σωτήρα μου)

Face to face with Christ my Savior,
Face to face, what will it be,
When with rapture I behold Him,
Jesus Christ, who died for me?

Only faintly now I see Him,
With the darkening veil between,
But a blessed day is coming,
When His glory shall be seen.

What rejoicing in His presence,
When are banished grief and pain;
When the crooked ways are straightened,
And the dark things shall be plain!

Face to face! oh, blissful moment!
Face to face to see and know;
Face to face with my Redeemer,
Jesus Christ, who loves me so.

Refrain
Face to face I shall behold Him,
Far beyond the starry sky;
Face to face in all His glory
I shall see Him by and by!

My thoughts on This Veteran's Day

Today while at church there was a brief acknowledgement of the military veterans in the service. It was a simple affair . . .  one of those things where if you served in any branch of the military you were asked to stand up; if you were related to anyone in the service, Stand up. You get the picture. I suppose it was sort of obligatory to do being it was Veteran's Day.

However, as simple as it was, my mind turned it into something far more significant for me. As they were busy going through the almost rote observance my mind was remembering family members who had served.  Our family's military service to American began with Samuel Appleby who march with the Continental Army during the American Revolutionary War and continues to this day. Appleby's and/or their kin have fought in virtually every war in which this country has ever been engaged.

But as proud as I am of that service record I was not thinking this morning of all those who served.  No, my mind was focused on a very elite group of family members. I was thinking of those family members who not only served but died as a result of that service.

As I sat their and they mentioned the Marine Corps I saw my father's youngest cousin, Billy Roy Appleby, a member of the 2nd Battalion, 7th Marines, 1st Marine Division. just turned twenty-one by a month, as he suddenly felt the impact of enemy fire and slumped in eternal sleep to the frozen ground in Korea on November 3, 1950. 

Then they mentioned the Army and after a brief thought of my Dad dropping paratroopers in the early hours of the morning of the Normandy Invasion and then latter the entire week of Operation Market Garden I thought of his other cousin, Robert "Bobby" Key,  who flew the same kind of airplane my Dad, entered eternal rest in the fiery crash of his plane as it exploded on take-off from Natal, Brazil from saboteurs bomb. That day the Nazi saboteurs destroyed five planes and their crews.

Then the Navy and my cousin Charlie Hancock's name came to mind. He paid the price aboard a U.S. Aircraft Carrier somewhere off the coast of Vietnam in the 1960's.

I don't know why I thought of these men but I did.  But the real significance of all this is that while thinking of their sacrifice I also thought of my Grandfather's baby brother Jesse as he got the letter that his son had been killed in action and he was give a hand full of medals (Purple Heart, the Combat Action Ribbon, the Korean Service Medal, the United Nations Service Medal, the National Defense Service Medal and the Korean War Service Medal).  I wondered how my grandfather's sister felt as she got word from the army that her son had died in Brazil.  And how my grandmother's sister felt when word came that her grandson, a Navy Corpman. was dead.

I suspect they were experiencing what every mother, father, wife, and child of a U.S. Serviceman fears most as they say goodbye to their soldier and watch them walk away toward an uncertain but dangerous deployment.   So on this Veteran's Day I want to say, "Thank you" to all the Moms and Dads, Wives and Husbands, and Children who are left behind.  "Thank you for your service."

Germs Can be Sneaky

I just had to take a moment to welcome my newest grandson into my world. Bryce Bailey, my youngest daughters second son joined the rest of us yesterday with all the fanfare that such an event warrants. It was a happy day all the way around since both baby and mom are doing just fine.

However, his arrival was also the occasion for one of those nutty things that seem to happen only in a hospital setting. You know, a goofy rule that sucks the joy out of a wonderful experience. The world is full of these kinds of things but on this day this rule just seemed bigger than it really was . . . or was it.

First, unlike the day in which my children were born, it seems that virtually the whole family is invited o be present. I elected to step out. However, Dad and a couple of grandmothers were there when he arrived not to mention the doctor and nurses.  Within minutes of his birth, even before he had his first bath, there I was holding him in my arms. More to the point we were passing him around like he was a greeting card to be read by everyone present.

Within a few hours our daughter and new grandson were moved to a private room where we all gathered again to celebrate. Seems we just couldn't get enough of "baby Bryce." 

It was then  that the insanity of a hospital setting kicked in. Now understand that people from the age of 3 years to my age, let' just say "and older" had looked at, touched and yes even kissed on Baby Bryce. All of this was well within the rules set forth by the hospital for such things.  Then, one of our other grandchildren arrived and we were told that not only could she not see "Baby Bryce" but by coming through the doors she was in violation of some hospital rule that required non-family children to be at least 13 years old before they could visit in the room.

That would have been fine except instead of just stopping there the following explanation was given. "The reason for this rule is to reduce the risk of contamination for the new baby."  A rule that is not based in some sort of valid reasoning is bad enough but do they really believe what they are saying when they say it is to control contamination.

First, keep in  mind that the following people are allowed in the room and to handle the new born child: Immediate family members of all ages 1 year and up; family, friends and acquaintances ages 13 years and older; and hospital staff. People from all these groups had, as I have mentioned earlier had, already handled and kissed on this child.  But now, when a cousin who is ten years old arrives she is told she not only cannot touch but cannot see her newest cousin because she might contaminate the room.

The only conclusion I can draw from this line of reasoning is: germs, viruses, and bacteria are unusually discriminating. They only attach themselves to children 10 years of age and under who are not a brother or sister to the new baby. All of these other people going in and out of the room, holding and passing around the baby, not to mention kissing on him, are either germ free or the germs are incapable of leaping from them to the infant in question. Hence we must bar this  potentially contaminated group of people from celebrating with the rest of their family and friends the newest member of their family.

Of course more important than the insanity of the reasoning used by the hospital when setting down this rule (there may be some other reason for having such a rule I just can't think of one) and that it how it affects the kid that is excluded. No one like to be told they aren't allowed when everyone else seems to get a pass. I have to tell you that had my more even tempered wife not been there we would have been having a philosophical discussion about that rule and more than likely I'd been sitting in the waiting room with the 10 and under crowd.

I know that in the grand scheme of things it is not a particularly major thing but it seemed important at the time. Now what has this to do with anything . . . well probably nothing. It's just another one of the idiotic rules that non-thinking people in authority lay down to control the rest of us. Besides that it annoyed me.

BTW - As I left the hospital someone had placed a large A-frame sign in the main entry that informed me that children 16 and under were not permitted in patient rooms to help prevent the spread of the flu virus . . . I hope it works.

What do you think . . . am I over reacting?