Fran Cotton is a PK – a preacher’s kid. She saw love demonstrated by her pastor/father in a myriad of ways.
In response to my request for love stories, Fran shared the following example of how loving your neighbor can make you zigzag your way across your yard – and into someone else’s heart.
I know you’ve probably heard the line, “Preacher’s kids are the worst…” I’ve heard the line, too, but I’ve never put much stock in it. I am a preacher’s kid. Was I the worst? No. The reason I give for my fairly good behavior is echoed by my brother and my sister who also behaved well. We would never have purposely done anything that would have embarrassed our dad. We had great respect for him as a person and as a follower and teacher of God’s values and a believer in Christ’s gift of redemption.
Now I’d like to tell you that my dad was a perfect person who never made parenting mistakes. I’d like to tell you that his actions and reactions were flawless in every way. But I can’t say that. I can say, however, that he was a man who was honestly seeking day after day to improve in God’s sight and to mirror God’s love to his family and the people he served. He had a good sense of humor and a servant’s heart. I never doubted his love for me even when I disappointed him. And the greatest love lessons I learned from him were based on what I observed in his life, not what he intentionally sought to teach me.
Here’s an example. When I was a teenager, Dad moved our family to the Texas coastal town of Freeport where he was to pastor a church. We moved into the parsonage next door to the church, and it was Dad’s habit every morning to leave fairly early to walk across our back yard to his office in the church. One morning after he left, I noticed he was zigzagging across the yard and picking up something. I peeked out a window to get a closer look.
It seems that our next-door neighbor had a running feud with the previous pastor. “Bob” had shown his contempt for that pastor and the church with a morning ritual of tossing empty beer bottles and whiskey bottles across the chain link fence into the parsonage yard. Then he and the previous pastor would exchange heated words about who was going to pick up the bottles.
Now Bob had a new pastor to break in. My dad was walking around the yard, picking up the empty bottles, and depositing them in our trash can under the watchful eye of Bob who stood in his backyard with his arms folded across his chest. Once the bottles were all picked up, my dad smiled and waved at Bob and disappeared into his church office door.
This went on several times a week for a while. Dad’s reaction was always the same: pick up the bottles, put them in the trash can, wave to Bob and greet him with a smile and a “good morning”.
Then Hurricane Carla came to the Gulf Coast. My family evacuated with the rest of the town, and Carla’s hurricane eye blew right over Freeport. When we returned home, the church and the house had a foot of standing water in them. Bob’s house was built up off the ground, coastal style, so he didn’t have the property damage that we did. As the church members gathered with my family to discuss what actions would need to be taken to repair the house and church, Bob walked over to my dad. And he made an offer that we didn’t refuse! Bob told my dad that the five of us could live in his house for as long as it took to repair our house. He owned another small house and would live in it for as long as we needed his house. We lived in Bob’s house, rent free, for three months. We slept on his beds, and I sat on his front steps with my friends. We cooked in his kitchen and ate at his table. And a few times, Bob joined us for a meal.
Dad never had to pick up Bob’s bottles again. Bob threw away his own bottles. That gave both of them more time to lean against that fence and talk.
I love that story. I love my Dad who is now in the presence of his Father. I love all the other actions that I observed in my dad that gave me a deeper understanding of humility, bravery, and love. What an amazing legacy!
(photo credit: infomatique)
{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }
This is a good one – the importance of our actions to our children can never be underestimated. I hope our kids learned something from us too.
This just goes to show what some people are really made of. The neighbor was using the older pastor as a battling board with the bottles, but when the new pastor cleaned up his mess and gave him a smile and a wave, the “war” was over. Then when the REAL need came throught Bob showed his true self in giving the pastor’s family a place to live for 3 months and got to be a friend.
Oh what a smile and a wave can do to some people!
Yep, that’s a great story. And, more importantly, I think it illustrates what we have been called to do. Serve in every way we can, whenever we can, without fanfare or self aggrandizement. I think I might have been able to clean up the mess, but, doing it with a smile and wave may have been a real stretch. . .
GRANDMA!!
This is so awesome!
he was such a GREAT person!
I miss him so much..
I can still remember him like it was yesterday though!
I loved him so much!!
He is someone SO special.. and somone i can REALLY look up to!
~I LOVE MY GREAT GRANDPA~
steph
This man, Rev. Earl Cotton, was my Grandfather. I don’t believe that I will ever meet a man with more love and patience for everyone around him. The love that he showed is still alive in those he has left behind. He was and still is a true image of Christ.
That preacher married my big sister 65 years ago! He WAS a great man and we all loved him! Way to go, Fran!
That man was my pastor when I was fourteen years old. He was a real man of God.
Fran, You bring great memories to mind. The love of a father never dies, But lives on in us forever. To be your cousin is Precious to my heart.