So, Your 80 and Alone

I have reached the stage in life where all my contemporaries are 80 years of age or soon will be. This age is often referred to as our “golden years”. For a handful of people who achieve that level of longevity and have a modicum of good health and a better than average income these years can be golden. Otherwise not so much.

Fortunately, as my children and younger friends point out, I am in pretty good shape for the shape that I am in. I can still drive and I handle my own affairs. I do my own shopping . . . . of course, I prefer to do it more in person than online as I get to enter-act with real people. I have found people in general and especially with young folks showing me deference more than say ten years ago. So don’t misunderstand what I am about to say. For some of us, right now at least, we are in pretty good shape for the shape we are in” and right now that by itself says “life is good”.

I readily admit that there is a certain level of peace that comes from having your own place, your own routine and some quiet time. I know there is for me. However, before you start jumping up and down with joy and running the risk of breaking something you need to understand that living alone in your 80s is not always what people imagine. Like being young, there are advantages, disadvantages, rewards and dangers.

But even with all those advantages the odds are at 80 years and beyond you're going to spend a great deal of whatever time you have left, alone. It is that time in our life span that we begin to notice that many of our friends if not in fact most of our friends have stepped off into eternity or have become debilitated in some form or another.

In our four score and more years we have learned that life can change in the twinkling of an eye. We know because we have seen it happen to our friends. Yesterday I played a round of golf with a friend I’d known since childhood and now I am getting ready to attend their memorial service. Yesterday a few of us walked a mile at the mall and then this morning one of us awakened and nothing on our left side is working and the phone is across the room.

As I have just said, with relatively good health, living alone into your 80's age can and is a blessing from God.  However, as I have pointed out, living to 80 and beyond can and does present you with some unique challenges. Many of those challenges are obvious . . . they are physical and financial in nature and bring their own kinds of stress.

But there is a stress that comes with longevity that can be a grinder for both healthy and not so healthy and that physical, mental and financial circumstances can exacerbate. 

I am speaking of aloneness and the loneliness that too often accompanies being alone. Loneliness can, and I suspect will, sneak up on you when you least expect it. I can almost guarantee you that most days will seem longer than when you were younger. There will also be nights when it seems morning will never come. 

The fact that many of our friends, if not in fact most of our friends, have stepped off into eternity and we have become or may may become the “last one still standing.” I have a friend who once remarked that their social life now consisted of onetime events . . . . namely attending the memorial services for their shrinking number of friends. 

I really became aware of this when my wife died. It has been five years since she went to be with the Lord Jesus, and I have not adjusted to the aloneness of living alone. At least when she first left my friends were there but now, even they are as one fellow said, “dropping like flies”. I can promise you that there will be days when the silence will seem louder than the din of noise. 

When our children were young, we used to long for a little peace and quiet and now that quietness all too often is deafening. You wake up to a house that is too still . . . . There are no footsteps and no voices to be heard. Just the humming of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock . . . .  No voices! 

You turn on the TV or radio for company and just to hearing another human voice. Your phone can go days without an incoming call, and the mailbox brings only bills and advertisements. Even the morning cup of “Joe” is less than satisfying. I will not even mention how just getting up and down is a chore. I am here to tell you that loneliness often shows up in those quiet moments. You feel it when setting the table for one or when looking out the window too long. This lack of connection can cause your heart to hurt.

Daily tasks can one the one hand keep you busy and turn your thoughts from your aloneness. But those same daily tasks can wear you down. When you live alone in your 80s, even simple chores can feel like mountains. What used to take ten minutes now takes thirty. Some days, it feels like everything takes more energy than you have to give.  

I have days when just getting out of bed is a challenge. Stiff joints and sore muscles do not always cooperate in the morning. I make wonderful breakfasts or, at least so I have been told. But now, it takes me longer and a drop stuff with more frequently. Susan used to complain that my stride was too long and I walked too fast . . . . Now I walk deliberately and hope I don’t trip over anything or even nothing. 

Now the laundry piles up faster than I remembered and the laundry basket is heavier than I recall.  Sometimes I ask myself, “How in the world did Susan carry this thing to the washroom.” Bending over to pick up clothes changing and opening a stubborn jar can turn into exhausting tasks. I find myself saying about more and more things, “It can wait until tomorrow.” Truth is, when we live alone, it is easy for us to feel like our time does not matter. No one is there to see what you do anyway so why worry about. I know I sometime feel guilty for leaving dishes in the sink. Or frustrated because I can’t get the dust off of the ceiling fan blades. We must simply do what we can do. 

I suppose it boils down to a search for significance in our old age. We want what we do to have . . . . meaning beyond ourselves. Stepping out of my leadership role after 50 years was the hardest transition I have had to make other than losing Susan. She was my עֵזֶר כְּנֶגְדּוֹ . . . . the woman God created as my perfect match. I’m not sure you ever get used to not having the most significant person in your life around after more than 60 years. We just adjust as best we can but no matter how much we try we still miss their aroundness. 

So, what is one to do. Well, what you don’t do is succumb to the loneliness. Be proactive . . . . don’t wait on anyone to come to you and do not assume about your grief and aloneness “That this too shall pass.” I’m in my sixth year and it neither have happened yet. Here are some things and places to start.

Stop whining because you phone still isn’t ringing. If your phone isn’t ringing, may I suggest you make their phones ring. A simple phone call to an old friend. Don’t wait for them to call . . . take the initiative. I have a friend who I call regularly even though they rarely call me or even return my calls. Truth is that we do not need constant chain of phone calls, but we do need a human voice. Sometimes I just call to listen to their voice mail pre-recorded message, turn your radio on for company. The quiet can make each day seem uncomfortably long and make each day feel like a copy of the one before.  

Try speaking with the clerk or other customers at the grocery store. I try and go to the grocery store once a week whether or not I need to buy anything. I have learned that there are people there who need what I am able to give. A listening and sympathetic ear. 

I have returned to the art of letter and note writing. I love the anticipation of getting something in my mailbox beside a bill, Medicare plan promotion or other advertisements. I have to confess that I write far more letters than I get a letter in return. If you can’t write letters, then put a nlote in a card. I have found letters less expensive than cards. Just a heads up on that. 

You can still have a meaningful and significant life. Purpose does not simply vanish but it does change based upon our capabilities and willingness to embrace the change and do what we can do. It may in fact become quieter, more personal as well as more meaningful to you and helpful to others than before you can imagine right now. We “Oldies” simply need to start finding value in small things others overlook.

Don’t forget about church. It is a great place to stay in the know and interact with people. First and foremost, I attend church. This gives me at least one day a week where I interact with other people. Don’t use web cast of your church’s service keep you away from the fellowship of the saints.

I interact on social media with people I have met over the years. This includes friends from my school days and especially my high school graduating class. People who I have worked with as pastor of five churches over 50 years are high on that list on social media. Add to that he folks around the world with whom I have ministered with and to. I maintain a fairly large social media presence. (Feel free to join me on Facebook)

I have, as mentioned earlier, recommitted myself to letter writing. If it worked for Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning, it might just work for you.

I have purchased a few bird feeders and sack of birdseed. Feeding the birds each morning gives me pleasure. I figure if God takes care of the sparrows, then so can I. I also grow plants. Feeding the birds, chasing off the squirrels and caring for my plants allows me to care for something alive.  Watering the plants becomes a promise to care for something alive.

I write. I write down my memories and my thoughts on various subjects. Think about the wisdom you and I carry. Our stories, lessons, and patience are worth more than most people realize. I share these on both my personal blog and on Facebook. 

I haven’t done this one, but it is something I toss around in my mind. Write letters to grandchildren. You can share recipes or advice that only comes from experience. You might even write a letter and seal it in an envelope addressed to them. Ask whoever is going to handle your estate to distribute them for you after you have died. to them for after you die and put it with the things your family will treasure

Remember, purpose does not have to be bold, loud or even seen. It can be framed in quiet acts of care, creativity, and choice. You and I are still part of the world. Living alone in your 80s is not always easy. Some days feel too quiet, and others feel too heavy. But we must remember that our time has always had value and maybe even greater value now that we have outlived the life expectancy charts. Our presence still matters. And your life can still hold beauty, even in its quietest moments.

You are not forgotten. You are not invisible. You are still here, still strong, and still capable of building on the life you started all those many years ago. You’re here and that means God has not quit on you so don’t you quit on you. If all else fails . . . give me a call . . . . let talk.

"The Lord expects You to Take Care of Your Bride . . . He Will Take Care of His.”

Hello young lovers whoever you are, I hope your troubles are few

All my good wishes go with you tonight I've been in love like you. 

Let me share something that we started when we were very young lovers and continued for more than 55 years.  It worked well for us and it or something like it might work equally well for you.

Susan and I made it a practice like everyone else of visiting the local Whataburger or Casa Ole for a meal. Nothing really special in the way of an event but a great way to spend a little time together in the middle of a busy life. Please don’t discount the value these kinds of events can be in enriching your relationship.

However, a couple of times a year Susan and I would have dinner at a nice restaurant with a piano bar. This would usually be on her birthday or our anniversary. It was my way of saying how grateful I was that she was born and that she was my bride. These were “dress up dates” where we dressed to say to one another you’re special and the ordinary is not sufficient to say just how special. 

It was a kind of putting on our Sunday best for each other and having dinner with an intimate crowd of strangers. I would, when making the reservation, make sure and tell the person taking our reservation to make a note that it was a special occasion for a very special lady and then detail what I was hoping to have in the way of a table, it’s location and other details. I never had an issue. In fact, more often than not the reply I’d get was along the line, “Thank you Mr. Appleby and don’t worry about anything our staff will do everything they can to make your dinner a memorable occasion. Most good “upscale” restaurants will do that. I remember especially one dinner where the restaurant pulled out all the stops and went far and above my expectations and causing Susan to say as we drove home, “Be sure and send them a thank you note tomorrow.” I said I would gladly do so but “be sure and remind me but why? She replied, “Because they made me feel like royalty.” 

However, that being said, it was not uncommon for us on Sundays that wherever we had lunch we sought out a table for just two in a quiet spot. I have mentioned before that at our favorite Italian restaurant in Beaumont, Frankie's, we virtually always had the same table for two by the window and at Susan’s favorite Mexican restaurant it was the same quiet corner table in the bar area. Even when on a cruise with friends we'd slip away at some point and just the two of us would have a nice lunch together. All of this was in an attempt to let Susan know that there was no one else I'd rather be with than her

To be sure we had dinner with friends and family which were always times that we cherished. We knew a lot of people who we considered friends, but our circle of close friends was rather small, and we relished time with them over a meal. 

Now having said all that, I still feel the table for two in a nice romantic setting with the sound of quiet music from the piano bar was merely window dressing for some of the best times we spent together. However, I must say that the surroundings and the meal were but window dressing . . . it was the quiet, relaxed time together that mattered and made the difference.

The truth is, we all have to eat and for the most part that is a pretty perfunctory and routine activity. All of the dressing up, upscale dining, elegant surroundings and ambiance were just material ways of saying to Susan, “You are the most important person in my life, and I want to experience the best that I can offer.” Would she have been happy without it? I’m sure she would. But that isn’t the question is it. The question was, “How I would feel if I didn’t give it to her?”

The truth is that what I have described is but one of a myriad of ways we learned to say, “I love you” and “I value you.” I agree with Solomon who said, “She is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her.” (Proverbs 3:15) Many years ago when I was not much more than a newlywed an old retired preacher known simply as Brother Black said to me, “Son I know you’re a young preacher but there is something you need to know about your responsibly to God and that is, your number one priority in ministry is not the church you serve . . . . It is to take care of your bride. "The Lord expects you to take care of your bride, and he will take care of His.” 

Love her with all of your heart as she has loved you. Don’t give her your love in bits and pieces or for a moment or an hour. Love her as you loved her from the start . . . love her with every beat of your heart. Find ways to show it . . . don’t let it be a secret love . . . tell her through how you relate to her in public and in private how much you love her. 

I knew back on December 23, 1966, when Rev. Estol Williams looked me in the eye and said, “Will you have Susan to be your lawful wedded wife” and I responded, “I do” that I was also being charged by God to love her as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it. (See Ephesians 5:25). Under God she was to be my one and only true love and I was to make she knew it.

My Mother: The Strongest and Bravest Woman I have Ever Known

I have posted this before but because tomorrow is Mother's Day I want to share it with you one more time. My mother's life is a wonderful story of triumph and tragedy and what I write here barely touches the hem of the garment of her life. I am proud to call her by the name I knew her best "Momma."

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.