My Dearest Little Family...

The image above is a letter from my paternal grandmother, affectionately known to us as "Big Mama." The letter was written to my parents in March or early April, 1956 right after she'd learned that I had been born. I love old letters, although their contents are mundane - just life as it was happening in Bassfield, MS back in the mid-fifties - they provide a brief glimpse into the author's soul. Big Mama's spelling and punctuation was interesting, but you can sense her sweet, sweet spirit as she writes:

My Dearest Little Family,

Was so proud of the little Grandbaby and it was a little boy we did want it to be a boy I know you all are so proud. I sure hope it will be as sweet as it Dad. I know he was the sweetest little boy every was. Barbara I will have to go to the Hospital as bad as I hate to - I got the prettiest card from your Mother that was sweet of her. What does Patricia think about the little boy or did she want a little girl tell her to love him real good for me. Odie wrote that Rex has a canker on his lip was going and have it cut out Wed. sure hope he gets along good. Odie is a lot better seams like. Mrs. Deen is still as bad as can be. Francis come Sunday they are all fine. Glyn and Linsey has good jobs now I am sure proud. We are having a revival at the church this week I don't guess I will feel like going and Dad and Annie Lee won't go and leave me. tell little Patricia I want her to come and bring that little boy
love Mother.

Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday. Poor Ash Wednesday, such a misunderstood day on the Christian calendar. Most Protestants dismiss the day with a brusque, "That's just for Catholics isn't it?" Others scoff at the day because, "It's not mentioned in the Bible." Still others - the morose and gloomy among us - claim the day is just one more (unnecessary) reminder of, "How bad and sinful we really are."

Truth is there is no requirement to do anything on Ash Wednesday. As His children, redeemed by the blood of the Lamb, all believers have perfect freedom in Christ. He died to set us free (see, for instance, Galatians 5:1, 13). But - as human beings we need reminders of the cost of that freedom, and reminders to follow hard after the One who gained that freedom for us.

That's what Ash Wednesday is for me - a reminder; a reminder of my sinfulness, a reminder of the cost of that sin, a reminder of the glorious resurrection, and a reminder of the joy to come. Personally I'm grateful for reminders like Ash Wednesday. So observe the day as you will - or ignore it, I believe at your peril. The choice, as always, is yours.

For What It's Worth

I woke up this morning thinking about how different God's value system is from ours. It's written throughout the pages of Scripture. God values the least, the last and the lost. We value those who are the greatest, those who are #1, and those who seem to have it all together. I'm not judging anyone for feeling that way, just trying to humbly recognize how askew my own value system has become and to somehow correct it.

It seems to me we live in the age of envy. We're always wanting what we don't have - craving what God has blessed others with rather than celebrating and fully utilizing those gifts and graces that God has given us. What a miserable way to live!

So Lord help us today - help ME - to see things through your eyes and to listen using your ears. Forgive me for fretting and stewing over things that you know I don't need; things I couldn't handle even if they did come my way. Help us to celebrate and live to the fullest the life you have given each one of us. And forgive us for those times we have not done so. In your blessed name I pray...Amen.

Firsts: Broken Leg!



Pregnant wife, broken leg, bad moustache



Today's post is about my first broken bone. When I was a kid living in Germany I jumped off a building and broke my heel bone, but heel bones aren't really that impressive. My first REAL broken bone was actually two broken bones, both the tibia and fibula in my lower leg. The injury occurred in a softball game at Bennett Park in Forsyth County on April 24, 1984. I was playing shortstop for the Cumming Methodist softball team and I fielded a ground ball near second base, touched the bag and threw out the guy running to first. Unfortunately the Oak Grove Baptist base runner running to second thought we were playing game seven of the World Series and he decided to "take me out" at second. When he rolled into me my left leg was planted as I threw to first and the impact shattered both my lower leg bones.

Thankfully Dr. Bob Dunn, a good Methodist, was watching the game. He came out onto the field immediately and confirmed the worst. An ambulance was called. About this time someone got Donna's attention (she was "watching the game" as she conversed with friends in the stands). Someone said to her, "I think Steve's hurt." Donna replied, "Really? I hadn't noticed." Actually I can't prove she said that because everything after I got injured was a blur of pain, anguish and fear for me. I got an ambulance ride to the old hospital in Cumming and the bones were set. I spent the night there in a haze of pain killers and was released the next day.

As you can tell from the photo, Donna was pregnant at the time of my injury, which is probably why she was so preoccupied and didn't notice me writhing in pain out on the field. You can also see my short shorts and my silly 80's mustache. In retrospect that wasn't such a good look for me. Who knew?

The good news is I healed and we had our baby although I still had a cast on when Amy was born. The bad news is I didn't learn my lesson and the next season while warming up for the FIRST GAME of the softball season a player from my own team threw a ball in from the outfield that hit me in the jaw and broke my jawbone which had to be wired together for several weeks. I did learn my lesson that time and have never played softball again. 

Firsts: First Child I Married

June 6, 2009 Leigh and John Harper

Like I mentioned in my last post, I'm jumping around now. Hang on! This photo is of me officiating at the marriage off a daughter for the first time. The photo was taken June 6, 2009 and as you can tell from the frown on my face as I bless the union of my daughter Leigh and her beau John Harper, I'm not too happy about it. Just kidding! Seriously, I was just trying to keep from losing it - which I thankfully managed to do as I officiated at this wedding.

What an honor it was to be the officiant! I was Leigh and John's pastor at the time, so it was natural, but then again, it was very unnatural because, after all, she was my little girl. Leigh and John are a great couple and have a great marriage and Donna and I couldn't be happier for both of them. It was difficult to maintain my composure during the service though. As a minister I had to learn to keep my emotions in check to avoid disrupting special moments for families like baptisms, weddings and funerals. Most of the time I managed to do so, but there are a few times when my own emotions got the better of me and I lost it. The bad thing about "holding it in" is you can sometimes come across as aloof or uncaring. The reason you appear that way is because the way you keep your composure is to not think about the situation at hand, or what you are saying or doing at the time as the minister. It's pretty scary to think about a person standing up in front of others and speaking without really listening to himself - not taking it to heart - if you know what I mean.

That's the way it was with Leigh and John's wedding. I forced my self to speak the words of the marriage rite itself along with my own comments about their union without really thinking about them because if I had, I would've broken and wept like a baby. The good news is, any tears that day would have been tears of pure joy and celebration about what was happening.

The moral of this story is a simple one: If you're ever at a service of any kind the the person up front seems out of it, or unconcerned, please have pity; it probably means whatever his happening means more to her or him than you can possibly imagine.