Ron Asbury: Another Giant in My Life Has Gone Home

Golf Tournament - Gulf Shores, AL

Another friend who has played a significant part in the weavings of the tapestry of my life has entered into his rest. My colleague, one of my favorite golf partners, my friend and brother in Christ went to be with the Lord. I know that our ages it was unlikely that either of us would see the other again in this life but we both knew there will come a time when we shall be reunited in God’s Paradise. 

I first met Ron Asbury when in 1982 I became the pastor of the Woodland Baptist Church in Beaumont, Texas. Ron had already been at the church as Minister of Music for about a year or so and was well into developing a powerful music ministry. Over the years Ron and I played a lot of golf together. In fact for one two-year period, we played just about every Friday afternoon having a standing tee time at the Bayou Din Golf Club. Not to mention being partners in annual church tournaments. We played every course in Beaumont and a few in Houston. 

Ron always seemed to have a few cigars with him when we played golf. I didn’t smoke and we always shared a cart. He’d frequently light one up and offer me one knowing I didn’t smoke saying to me, “You know smoking won’t send you to hell.” Then one day I responded with, “No, smoking a cigar will not send anyone to hell . . . it will just make them smell like they’ve been there.”  He almost wrecked the cart laughing.

But as well as we were teamed for golf, we were a better team in ministry. I don’t recall either of us stepping on the other. Through motivation and manipulation, yes, I said manipulation, Ron was building a music program that was second to none other in our city. I remember he and I talking about motivation and manipulation and he said, “Manipulating people is not a bad thing as long as what you manipulate people into doing is what they both can and should do.”  Not sure I ever agreed with that, but it seemed to work for him. 

Woodland Baptist Church - Ron at Pulpit

Ron was a remarkable if not unconventional motivator. He would do whatever it took to get the best out of the people with whom he worked. He’d stomp his feet, pull faces and even poke out his tongue to get what he wanted from his choirs. He encouraged individuals to develop their talent and to minister to the church with them. He always seemed to find a way to encourage folks and to get them to believe in themselves and what they could do even when they were uncertain and afraid.

Locally he would be known as the man who brought a high school/college choir called Shining Light to life. He was duplicating in our church what he had already done with a group called Joyful Sound at North Knoxville Baptist Church in Knoxville, Tennessee. I know when he was on staff with me at Woodland Baptist Church he literally through our music ministry put our church on the map in our city. The nearly ten years we were together were some of the most productive and happiest of my ministry.

Ron and I would sit down once a year and talk about where I wanted the church to go in the coming year and he would shape his program to support that. I don’t remember ever having a ministry conflict. We pretty much saw what we did in our focus areas as part and parcel of the same thing . . . building the local church and extending the kingdom.

When Ron moved to Houston I thought, as did he, that our shared ministry was probably over. Little did either one of us know that just a few short years later I would be at the Fairmont Central Baptist Church in Pasadena and needing a Minister of Music. All told, Ron and I shared ministry for about 15 years. Thank you, Rhonda, for letting me know he was available.

Shining Light - On the Road Again

During those 15 years we played a lot of golf, shared a lot of dinners, and saw God do some wonderful things. I have said it before, and I’ll repeat it here . . . If I could have had one Minister of Music throughout my ministry, and I have had some really good ones, that man would have been Ron Asbury. 

No man was ever a more committed defender and champion of his family than was Ron. When it came to Carolyn and the girls his love and loyalty knew no limits. I feel for the poor soul that ever hurt one of them regardless of the reason. I’ll not elaborate here, but I learned of his commitment and loyalty to them through experience not hearsay. 

The one thing I regret is that I don’t recall ever buying his lunch . . . I tried a time or two, but he outfoxed me even when I had arranged in advance with the restaurant to pay. I sometime wanted to laugh as Ron, Tim Edgar and Craig Heiman argued over who was going to pick up the check. Apparently, there is an art to that. 

I could go on and on recalling experiences and shared times. There is never a stopping place when we recall our shared journeys. What I really want to say is that Ron Asbury was and authentic Christian man . . . . not perfect but authentic. He was a good man and all that is included in that term. Ron Asbury was a generous colleague who understood collegiality, a loyal friend, devoted family man but most of all a brother in Christ. His legacy will live on through his children and his grandchildren. 

My brother, I hate to see you go . . . . a lifetime's not too long to live as friends but thank the Lord that friends are friends forever when the Lord is the Lord of them. Thank you, Lord, for making Ron a part of my life.

Reflecting on a Theme

 I learned today that when we started classes at Pasadena Senior High School in 1963 (You’ll remember that the 9th grade was at the Junior High Campuses) our class was 748 strong. By the time we graduated in May 1965 we were a mere 455. Our class had shrunk by 203 students. To be sure students would come and go during the ensuing years from 1963 to 1965 and even a few would die but the start and finish numbers are what they are with the bulk of the loss of classmates was due to the opening of a new school, SRHS, and the transfer of some 200 or so students. 

As the years have raced by I have come to recognize there is something unique and special about the PHS Class of 1965. It might be partly the result of how the class evolved. As pointed out above we started out with 748 students coming from several Junior High Schools. The between the 1963-64 school year and the 1864-65 year some 203 members of our class (as did a similar number from SoHo and my steady girl was one of them) transferred to a new high school (SRHS).

As a result of this movement of bodies (students) people thought students would form a new allegiance and connection at the new school. Bad thinking, I’d say. Old friendships die harder than new ones are easily formed. For more common-sense reasons than I care to go into the folks who officially transferred out of our class and attended a different school never broke their emotional and relational ties with the PHS Class of 1965 nor did we who remained at PHS with them. In my mind it has something to do with being bound together at a deeper level than just academics. Something that perhaps we should give credit for to our “spirit leaders” (Cheerleaders - it is explained later).

Again, my steady girl, Susan Warren, was one of those affected by those transfers . . .albeit she transferred from SoHo to SRHS but attended Southmore Junior High. Gets confusing doesn't it. She would tell me years later as we attended my PHS reunions, “I think I know more people here than you.” She may well have been right. At any rate she felt right at home at my reunions and never attended a SRHS reunion. Susan actually talked me into attending my very first reunion. She recognized then that strange connection we as a Class have.

For a long time, I thought it was only me until at one of our last reunions, 45th I think I mentioned it in a conversation on the balcony outside our hospitality room with Patrice Schexnayder, Sarah (Ruth) Walker-Palmer and my late wife Susan. (Wow, it just occurred to me that I am the last person in that group still living.) We all expressed similar feelings but couldn’t pinpoint any one thing that would account for it.

Patrice Schexnayder, a fellow PHS Class of 1965 graduate used to talk about what we perceived as the uniqueness of our class and what made it unique. We both felt that there were a lot of reasons but probably the overarching reason was the homogeneous nature of our class regarding our families and community. I often thought regarding our class the chant “we are family” was more than a chant. Susan once told me that our class reunions had more of a family reunion feel than a class. I think in the ways that really matter the Class of 1965 is more a family than a high school graduating class. 

Over the years, as I have spoken with classmates, seen your photos, heard your stories and discovered what you value and believe, I have concluded that we all experienced life pretty much the same way. I’ve learned that your home was not that different from mine. Same pictures on our walls, same style of furniture, mom’s making our clothes (they probably knew each other from Hancock’s).  Class structure was largely artificial. Patrice would say, “It’s because we were a homogeneous group” and I would reply, “Yep, we were kind of like a family.” 

At any rate somewhere along the way we developed a bond that was broader than academic and deeper that social. I can still hear Paula Maddox and John Crocker and the rest of the football cheerleaders admonish us at Pep Rallies in the boy's gym with cheers such as “I’ve got spirit how about you.” Sometimes it was even a “spirit” competition between classes. BTW - We did have the prettiest girl cheerleaders, and the guy were . . . ok.

Well, we did have a spirit, and I don’t mean the exuberance of a pep rally. By the time 1965 rolled around we had quietly and unknowing developed what I refer to as the PHS Class of 1965 Spirit. Something happened from the day when 748 new students individually stepped onto the campus of the Pasadena High School that resulted in 455 students walking off of a platform at the Old High School Football stadium with a spiritual bond that would last a lifetime.

Oh, to be sure that day in May of 1965 was the day we went out to assume a roll in a greater society but for a high percentage of us the threads we wove together have proven to be resilient and strong. These connections were so tightly woven that even time and distance could not break them. So, I have concluded that what makes the PHS Class of 1965 remarkable is a spiritual connection . . . . like family . . . . it is where I belong . . . . it is my home. PHS is the place where it was nurtured but it is the Class of 1965 to which I belong. The place is the peg, but it was my peers that made it a special group with great value for my life. 

Well, I still can’t define it but I thank God for it. For all of us the journey was not long but for others of us it has been long and a handful of us are still sharing the journey . . . Thank you PHS Class of 1965 for being uniquely you because in doing so you helped make us who we are.

IF YOUR A MEMBER OF THE PHS CLASS OF 1965 (or have any of the other relationships with the PHS class of 965 mentioned above) FEEL FREE TO ADD YOUR COMMENTS AND SHARE ANY MEMORIES IN THE COMMENTS. 

We do like to hear from old friends.

A Giant of the Faith has Ascended on High.

This week the earthly church lost a dear friend and the saints in heaven gained a great soldier of the cross. Earlier this week my friend and my mentor Darrell Robinson went to be with the Jesus who he faithfully shared to all who would listen. I have been privileged to know many of the giants in Baptist life over my 77 years and Darrell in my judgement was the cream of the crop.

I am certain that multitudes have their own stories to tell about this faithful servant of the Lord and I wish they could. I want to share something of my journey with him. Words are not sufficient, but they are all I have. 

Darrell was a good preacher or as my late friend Lester Collins would say of himself, he was adequate. Darrell was a good and loving pastor and again as my friend would say of himself, he was adequate. Darrell was a capable theologian but as my friend would say of himself, he was adequate. I think Darrell would agree with this assessment. None of these things in my mind set Darrell apart from many of our colleagues. 

I remember he and I were having lunch at the old Tatar campus of the First Baptist Church in Pasadena; Texas and we were talking about a mutual friend of ours, Estol Williams, who was pastor of the Boulevard Baptist Church and my pastor. Darrell said, “You know Brother Estol and I went to seminary together.” I replied that I had understood that they had. He then replied, “I would never have graduated from seminary if it hadn’t been for Estol. I struggled with Greek and were it not for his tutoring me in Greek I’d have never passed that course.”  Darrell could never be accused of thinking more highly of himself that he should. 

No, Darrell’s most notable characteristic was that he loved people and he desired that all of them that came into the realm in which he resided come to know Jesus as Savior and Lord. I think that love for people is the engine behind another trait that marked his character . . . he never seemed to need to search for someone’s name. If he was ever introduced to you, he never forgot you and would greet you by name.

I recall when I was in seminary, we had returned to Pasadena to visit family and decided to attend First Baptist Church on Wednesday evening. It was their business meeting and I remember slipping in and sitting with my aunt (a member there). Darrell welcomed three new people into the church by Baptism, brought a really short message. Right in the middle of that message he looked up, saw us sitting there and stopped his message to welcome me, my wife, my two children by name and ask about our dog by name. He never met the dog that I know of and we had only seen him once or twice since meeting him at 15 years old. That told me he had been following our ministry from that first meeting. He truly cared.

But where most of us were just adequate the one area where Darrell exceeded all of us was in sharing Jesus and leading folks to faith in Christ Jesus. Darrell had a heart for the lost. I never met another Christian who lived to lead people to Christ like Darrell. I remember him telling me once about his constantly having the church community surveys and mass mailings. Darrell said, I want something in every home in the area to have something with our church’s name and contact information on it. Every family in this town is going to have at least one major crisis and I want the first thing that they reach for to be that card correspondence with our church’s contact information on it. 

Darrell was a winner of souls. He also was a promoter of God’s preachers. I recall back in 1983 that I had just become the Pastor of the Woodland Baptist Church in Beaumont, Texas. I did not know another preacher in the area, and they had all known each other a long time. I also did not know that Darrell was on te program. At any rate it was the night we pastors had been asked to get as many deacons as possible to attend the evangelism conference being held at the Calvary Baptist Church. I managed to have all my leading deacons present. Seemed like no matter how hard Susan and I tried we could not break into that “preacher” club. 

So Susan and I and our handful of deacons sat pretty much alone on the second pew from the front of the sanctuary. Darrell spoke and he was followed by a prayer time. During that prayer time he slipped down from the platform and came and sat next to me until the session had a break. Susan and I talked with Darrell for about ten minutes and then left to go get ready for his next session.  After the session was over and as Darrell was leaving every preacher in the place made it a point to introduce themselves to me. That wasn’t accidental. Darrell had accessed the situation and consciously made it clear that he and I were friend. Just one way he gave my ministry a boost.

I also recall an occasion in Dallas at the Texas Baptist Evangelism conference when Susan and I along with another friend of mine bumped into Darrell in the lobby outside the arena. As we stood their visiting Jimmy Draper, and another SBC official came up and interrupted us. Darrell turned to Jimmy and said, “Jimmy, I’m speaking with Brother Appleby right now, we’ll be through in a moment and then he turned back to our conversation. When we finished a moment or two later, he turned to Jimmy Draper and asked, “Jimmy, have you met Dr. Appleby and his wife Susan? I have invited them to join us for lunch.”  This was quintessential Darrell Robinson. 

I can list on my hand the people who influenced me both personally and in ministry and Darrell Robinson was one of those few men.  I have not tried to be exhaustive regarding my friend, but I have tried to show the kind of friend and person he was. I’m sure each of you reading this have your own stories and memories concerning Darrell. I invite you to share your special story of you and Darrell.  I look forward to reading your experience with Brother Darrell . . . .

Don’t Disparage of the Pain

When we love deeply and we love over many, many years and the person we have so loved is taken from us it causes us great inward pain. I suppose it is a shadow of the pain that Jesus experienced as he was separated from the Father when He "became sin" for us and died the sin death thus giving us both the hope and the means of redemption. 

Don’t disparage of the pain you feel when the love of your life dies. Believe me I do not make that statement lightly. It has been more than 25 months since the woman I love went to be with the Lord and not a day has gone by that I have not thought of her and hurt in my soul. 

For almost a year I tried to hide the depth of pain, but I found I could not and decided that I should not.  I suppose most of the people in my world and many outsides of my world know of my struggle. It has been the deepest and most sustained pain I have ever felt. The pain was so intense that it defied words. Her leaving was as if someone had ripped out a part of my own soul. It was as we used to say - "To the bone." 

When our beloved departs through death to a far country, and we are left behind with just the memories and the pain of that separation we wonder who can lift us from this pit. We may even question whether God cares or not. The hurt is so deep we find ourselves crying out with the Apostle Paul, “O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” 

Given all this still I say, do not disparage of that pain. It is the evidence that one has loved and been loved deeply. If you want to avoid the suffering that comes from such separation, then the price is never experiencing the joys of loving deeply and the marvel of two becoming one. It is also evidence that you had obtained the oneness that God intended. 

The pain is the price of the love and though the price, as in my case, is great it is but a small thing compared to the love that we enjoyed. I have come to understand the meaning of Paul's affirmation in Romans 8:18 where he writes, "the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us." No matter how great the love we shared here and no matter how great the pain we are presently experiencing the love and glory we experience when we join our loved one in Heaven will outshine it all. It will truly be worth it all when we see Jesus and are reunited with our beloved.   

No matter how great the pain it is but for a season. But love is made of stronger stuff. For the Christian, love is stronger than fear, life stronger than death, and is hope stronger than despair. We have to trust that the risk of loving deeply is always worth taking. It is a true saying that says, “It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.” 

One of my favorite passages of Scripture is I Corinthians 13:8-13. Paul makes it clear that everything will pass away. That is, everything will cease except Faith, Hope and Love. And, of what remains (Faith, Hope and Love) love is the greatest. But that only stands to reason since as First John 4:8 tells us, “God is love.” 

So, while the absence of the one we love is painful the promise of God’s love makes the pain bearable and “the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.” (Romans 8:18). So, while I still carry a great deal of sorrow in me it is not debilitating because I carry a greater expectation that when I step out of time into eternity of being greeted by not only my Lord but also the many loved ones I’ve known here below and that includes my dear Susan with whom I became one.  

The bond of love will not be broken. Just as we cannot be separated from the love of God in Christ Jesus . . . . so the love we shared is not broken. It may have to be stretched across many years but one day, someday, face to face it will be refreshed. I personally believe that there is a better than even chance that when I get to heaven not only will a see Jesus, but I'll be greeted by those who I loved and loved me. I easily imagine Jesus telling Susan to show me around the place and the joy I experience as she takes my hand and says, "come walk with me, there is so much I want you to see. You see that's what love does.

Yep, that will be a happy day indeed. Sometimes in my mind I try and imagine what that reunion will be like. What a day that will when we enter heaven and experience for the first time ever life without sorrow, sadness or pain and see our beloved once more. There is so much more to be said here but no volume of words would add to the glory of that reunion.

There will be a happy meeting in Heaven, I know.
When we see the many loved ones, we've known here below.
Gathered on that blessed hilltop with hearts all aglow
That will be a glad reunion day.

A glad day, a wonderful day,
A glad day, a glorious day
There with all the holy angels and loved ones to stay
That will be a glad reunion day.

When we live a million years in that wonderful place
Basking in the love of Jesus, beholding His face

It will seem but just a moment of praising His grace.
That will be a glad reunion day.

A glad day, a wonderful day,
A glad day, a glorious day
There with all the holy angels and loved ones to stay.
That will be a glad reunion day.

I'm Only a Phone Call Away

I frequently see this statement, or some that are similar, "When I die don't get on Facebook talking about you wish Heaven had a phone. I have two lines now and you don't call" and I agree with it. 

I know that I have searched every old phone, video and other source that I can get my hands on to capture the sound of my dear Susan's voice. Just to hear it brings joy to my heart. I'd rather her be here with me so I didn't have to rely on recordings. I'm sure my children have plenty of messages that start out, "It's just me call me when you get time." Sadly, time eventually runs out. 

For those of us who grew up in the 1950's and came of age in the 1960's this circumstance is particularly painful. We grew up in an era when the telephone was still a relatively new experience. People would talk on the phone for hours at a time even though they may have just spent half the day visiting in person.  Many of us who grew up with phones thought we'd experience pretty much the same in our old age. But alas it is not to be.

Truth is, for most older folks their phones would hardly ever ring if it weren’t for Robo-calls, Car Warranty companies, Medicare Plans, or collection companies looking for someone who shares your name. None of these are welcome.

While discussing this in a small group after church on Sunday a younger person in our group suggested that perhaps we should take the initiative and initiate the call. I thought about that for a minute and then remember how many times I heard my late wife’s voice in response to my asking, “Have you heard from the kids?” say, “I just tried calling _______ but they said they’d have to call me back.” You run into that often enough and soon you just face the fact that the people you most want to hear their voices are too busy. 

Now don’t misunderstand me. They really are busy. They, for the most part still have jobs, still have children living a home, still have circles of friends that do not include us older folks and should not. Unfortunately, we recognize that while they are legitimately busy, we are living on the short end of a life lived. We also walk in the knowledge that while we might live many more year, we might live those years without our memory and the recognition of family or friends. Hence while for them time pass slowly for us there is an urgency. 

On a related matter cards and letters are still important. I have a dresser, not dresser drawer but a dresser
that is filled with cards and notes that we received over the years and Susan kept. I’d catch her from time to time sitting on the edge of the bed looking at a handful of those cards and letters just remembering the people who sent them. There was a time when she used them as a part of her prayer list. Cards and letters matter. Cards with a short not are easy. Letters are a little more problematic because they require time, thought and some measure of penmanship. Yep, more demanding but moe powerful. Let me suggest whether you use snail mail (best) or e-mail (ok) write complete sentences and spell out the words and try to communicate feeling not just thoughts and events. Now back to the subject at hand . . . .

The other thing that is often suggested is that we find some kind of “old people” group to join and participate with regularly. I hate to say it but most of those groups are training and/or conditioning classes for nursing home residency. However, the big problem is, they are not the people with whom you wish to be or from whom you wish to hear. We feel like the ancient Hebrew in captivity who said, “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof.” In short we were alive but we were no longer living. 

I don’t believe for a minute that we don’t get those calls and visits from friends because people don’t care. I have learned over the past three or so years that people really do care. God’s people and real friends do care. When my wife Susan left for her heavenly home the people who stayed with me the longest and some to this day going on three years down the road are friends from my growing up years. However, since many of them are women and married much telephone and certainly in person visits can be awkward. I have come to love a group of people (a bunch of individuals both men and women) that in my “growing up” years I barely knew anything about them besides their names. 

I also do not for a minute believe that kinfolk (children, grandchildren etc.) don’t make those calls and visits because they do not care. There is no question in my mind that for most of us our families do care. They fail to call or visit because they are wrapped up in the business of their own lives and families. And the truth is they are not wrong in that. After all, Scripture does say that when they marry there are to “leave their father and their mother.” 

In their minds they know they are young and there is time enough for calling. Sadly, there is not that same amount of time for answering that call. It is that dichotomy that I believe lay behind the quote with which I started this little bit of dribble . . . . "When I die don't get on Facebook talking about you wish Heaven had a phone. I have two lines now and you don't call." 

Truth is we really do want to hear from you. We want to know what’s going on in your lives; we want to know about our grandchildren and great grandchildren. But what we really want is to hear your voice. We know from he sound of your voice how things are really going regardless of te words that are spoken. We want to hear your voices for ourselves. Again, at the risk of being to personal, I recall many occasions after Susan spoke with someone saying. “They said they are fine but something in their voice tells me something isn’t quite right somehow.”

I’m not a Stevie Wonder fan but I like what he said when he sang, “I just called to say I love you, I just called to say how much I care, I just called to say I love you. And I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”  If you are my age, you mom and dad probably are no longer with you and so we might legitimately say, "When I die don't get on Facebook talking about you wish Heaven had a phone. I have two lines now and you don't call." 

If they are living, I suggest you set you priorities as: God first, followed by your immediate family (spouse and children), then extended family followed by friends. I might add that from time to time include them in some family activity besides holidays. I remember one of te most rewarding days of my life with my mother was the day I took her to Galveston’s West Beach and pushed her in her wheelchair over the sand burn to the empty beach and saw her face as she breathed in the ocean air. I have carried that day with me for some 30 years now. 

This is for all the lonely people thinking that life has passed them by don't give up until you drink from the silver cup and ride that highway in the sky.

This is for all the single people thinking that love has left them dry don't give up until you drink from the silver cup you never know until you try.

Well, I'm on my way yes, I'm back to stay well, I'm on my way back home.

This is for all the lonely people thinking that life has passed them by don't give up until you drink from the silver cup, she'll never take you down or never give you up you'll never know until you try.

Feel free to share your thoughts and/or experiences in the comments section below. 

Facing Our Personal Rubicon

I often write on social media and other places about my life experiences. Frequently that writing focuses on lessons learned from the life experience Susan and I shared over 55 years of marriage and sixty years of knowing one another. As Scripture says, “We speak of what we know, and bear witness to what we have seen.”

We all have our Rubicon's. All of life’s experiences are important and significant to our journey in life but some are pivotal.  The first major crossing of the Rubicon in our life took place on December 23, 1966, when before God and His people Susan and I committed ourselves to each other to love, honor cherish and care for one another. We committed ourselves to face the world for the rest of our life as husband and wife. That decision changed our lives forever.  Today I want to tell you about another "crossing the Rubicon for us. 

I think that one of the best things Susan and I ever did was move to Ft. Worth in Fall of 1969. We didn’t know a soul there, I didn’t have a job, we had a 3-month-old baby and when we got there, we learned we didn't have a place to live. 

My mom thought we were making a mistake. My Dad said to her, maybe so but they have got to learn. I don’t think a single person understood why we were stepping out where there seemed to be nowhere to step. 

But there we were, pulling out of the parking lot at the Southmore Apartments . . . our home since 1966.  Our car and U-Haul truck loaded with all our worldly goods. Family and friends were there to see us off. I have often wondered about the conversations as they watched us drive out of sight. 

This was our “crossing Jordan” moment. You will recall that the waters of Jordan did not part until the sole of the priest foot touch the brim of the waters of Jordan. Everything hinged on the priest’s faith in God’s promise. Ironically, perhaps because we were young and had an unbelievable faith that what we were doing was the Lord’s will for us that we had no anxiety. 

I remember someone whispering in the crowd, “I don’t think they know the seriousness of what they are doing.” Well, we probably didn’t understand everything at the time. We just believed it was God’s will for us and while we didn’t know how it was going to work out, we believed God already had it worked out. Many are called but few are chosen but when you are one of the chosen, I can tell you God has your back. 

Why was that decision so pivotal? Well, first we had to do it together and had nowhere or anyone to run to if it didn’t work out like we believed it would. Second it strengthened our faith in God as week by week He met our needs in ways that literally astounded us. We really had no choice but to trust Him for our needs. We never asked for help but help always came when we needed it and it started our first day in Ft. Worth. Third, it was there that our mantra “Stronger Together” was born as we learned how to support and help each other. 

We were simple minded enough to just believe that “we were more than conquerors in Christ Jesus.” We thought, “if we committed to doing God’s will in our marriage then God would bless our union. If we were committed to His calling on our lives, He would enable us in that effort. Love may find a way, but God provides a way. We frequently reminded ourselves of this by looking at each other and one of us would either repeat our mantra or say, “Honey, me, you and the Lord have this.”

If you're going to learn how to fly you’ve got to get out of the nest. The momma bird knows that and when it’s time to fly she bumps her babies out of the nest. Life is filled with risk, uncertainty and danger but if you're going to fly you have to take the leap. We learned to “Delight ourselves in the Lord” and as He promised He “directed our path.”  You can be everything God created you to be if you just trust him to take what you are and mold you into what He knows you can be. 

All I can say is, and I say it from personal experience with Him, “Our God is an awesome God; He reigns from heaven above, with wisdom, power, and love; Our God is an awesome God!”  Bill & Gloria Bill Gaither along with Greg Nelson wrote the words but they are the testimony of Susan and me. We are so blessed by the gifts from your hand. We just can't understand why you've loved us so much. We are so blessed, and we just can't find a way or the words that can say, "Thank you Lord for your touch."

With Robert Frost I say . . . . 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

God Often Supplies Our Need from Places and in Ways We Would Never Consider

Since the power was out and church services were canceled, I have been thinking about how God has worked in my life since my dear wife Susan died two years ago. Her absence has brought great pain to my life. So, I am posting this as a word of testimony and praise. 

Percy Sledge recorded his R&B hit, When A Man Loves A Woman in 1966 the same year Susan and I married. In 2017 Sissel recorded a version that captures my feelings. I urge you to give it a listen. Better yet do it with the one you love.

When a Man Loves A Woman isn’t just about the intoxicating, all-consuming power of love though it is certainly that. Love is the most basic need of all. The desire to want and feel wanted . . . loved is a universal need put in the soul of man by God. Only God’s love and love for God can fill that need perfectly. But a man and a woman created in the image and after the nature of God has a built-in desire to be loved and to be loved deeply. This song expresses something of that.

But When a Man Loves a Woman also warns us to know what we’re getting ourselves into when we love . . . especially when we love with the love of God. The song positively beams with emotion and celebrates just how far gone we can get in our beloved. It also acknowledges the high stakes of the situation. There is nothing to compare in this world with the feeling of deeply held, intensely felt and longtime love. Granted, separation of any kind and especially death may be the end of many things in this world . . . but it certainly is not the end . . . but, at the time, it sure feels like it. So, when the earthly love of our life is no longer present the inward pain is almost unbearable.

Shifting gears just a little. I am a fortunate, no, I am a blessed man to have had a wife who possessed an uncanny ability to put people at ease. I cite one example of what I mean. Several years ago, I was a member of a panel discussing and answering questions about the advantages of having preferred suppliers and how to obtain cooperative funding & support from them. Prior to going to that panel Susan and I had been visiting with the CEO of a major travel industry “Back of the Office” company. 

As the three of us sat in the lobby of the hotel a runner came to get me for my panel. Susan started to go with me when our friend said, “Susan, why don’t you stay here while he does his thing. You’ve heard all that stuff before.” He was right and she took advantage of the opportunity to skip a meeting. Long story short, I finished my presentation and Q&A session and rejoined them where I left them in the hotel lobby. 

I said all that to provide a context for what my friend said as we left to get some lunch. I paraphrase now but what he essentially said to me was, “You have quiet the treasure in your wife.” I wisely and readily agreed as Susan was there and would hear how I would respond. He then continued, “What I mean is she listens so well, I found myself telling her things that I would never say to anyone else. I’m glad you let her stay and visit.” I responded, “I know, she does that to me too.” 

Now, fast forward to the present. I, like my friend, do not share very many personal thoughts and feelings with other people easily and certainly not on a regular basis. In fact, Susan has been my only human real confidant since before we married . . . but now she is gone. Not to sound too mystical, I still consult with her, but she rarely answers . . . . although sometimes somehow talking with her it seems like she does. 

I simply must interject here; Our God is an awesome God . . . and He knows and supplies our every need. I stand amazed at how He does it. As I said earlier, So, when the earthly love of our life is no longer present the inward pain is almost unbearable. Nothing seems to help. Then God . . . does something surprising . . . at least in my loss experience He did.

In my case, the Lord reached back into my past and pulled into my present someone with whom prior to then I doubt that I had spoken a dozen or so words over my entire life. A person who, like my friend, said of Susan, “I found myself telling her things I would never say to another living person.”  This in my mind borders on the miraculous! Do you realize the pieces God had to move to make that happen? Some of you might have been among the pieces He moved. God works and He is working all over the place.

I suppose the lesson in this is that sometimes God supplies our need from places we would never look. Israel received water from a rock and in my case, he brought an obscure part of my past into my present and is meeting my need. I see my experience as no less a miracle than Israel being refreshed with water from a rock. I speak here of spiritual things. There is a way that seems right to our way of thinking, but God knows the way through the wilderness we travel far better than do we.