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“Glamour isn’t greatness, applause isn’t fame, prominence isn’t eminence. The man of the hour isn’t apt to be the man of the ages. A stone may sparkle but that doesn’t make it a diamond. People may have money but that doesn’t make them a success. It’s the seemingly unimportant people who determine the course of history. The greatest forces in the universe are never spectacular. Summer showers do more good than hurricanes but they don’t get a lot of publicity. The world would soon die but for the fidelity, loyalty, creativity and commitment of those whose names are un-honored and unsung.” -James Sizoo
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The Race
It was a day of surprises. If you had told me the Friday before what I would experience on Saturday, I don’t know whether I would have stayed in bed all day or sat up sleepless the night before. That Saturday, those years ago, I had a taste of heaven. [click to continue…]
(A Turning Point Story)
On Highway 43 North in Jackson, Alabama, the Joe C. McCorquodale, Jr. Bridge crosses the Tombigbee River and lands at the base of a mile-long bluff or hill that probably has some name I don’t know. All I knew at the time was that Ed’s Drive-In (formerly Troy’s) was at the top of it, and that’s where we stopped for a couple of cokes for the road. Next stop: Mobile. A hospital visit or two was surely on the agenda. Most likely a stop by Bel Air Mall or the Baptist Bookstore as well.
We turned south and started down the monstrous hill. Highway 43 is a nice, wide, divided highway, and the view south toward the river is really nice.
And long.
Which explains how ridiculous it was that just as I approached the Highway 69 intersection, a lady pulled out in the left lane, right in front of me.
Good. Stinkin’. Grief. [click to continue…]
This is awkward. But I want to tell you about an experience I had a long time ago, when I was young and stupid (as opposed to middle-aged and ill-advised).
I was in a season in my life when I had lost nearly everything. I don’t mean that poetically. I mean, everything.
Job… fired.
Career… lost.
Health… busted.
Friends… nearly all vacated.
Marriage… destroyed.
Kids… gone.
Integrity and credibility… a bad joke.
Finances… bankrupt.
Sanity… toast.
I was a shell of a man, crushed under the weight of stupid choices, addictive behavior, and shame. I would sit and, without realizing it, rock back and forth. (Braves fans, remember how Leo Mazzone, the former pitching coach would rock on the bench? Yeah, that was me and worse.)
On this particular day, I was sitting in a hospital day room when somebody stuck his head in the door. “Anybody here named Andy Wood?” he asked. [click to continue…]
I’ve told this story before in a little less detail…
It happened about this time of year. It was one of those seasons where I felt like a cue ball – big, white and ugly. What times I wasn’t having head-on collisions with somebody else’s destiny, I was being slam-poked with a Big Stick.
Life hurt. And for a while I was too stupid, too busy, or too young to see it. I was overwhelmed with a college load. I had multiple responsibilities in my church staff position (my first). And I’d had some seismic shifts in relationships that had left me reeling and lonely.
That’s when I happened to drop by to see Willie Mae Dawkins.
I don’t remember why. I do remember that I ate at her home occasionally. But more than likely it was because her son, Mike, was in my youth group. I liked Mike a lot. And most likely, I had dropped by to see what he was up to.
Mama was sitting on the front porch. [click to continue…]
Sometimes when God wants to reveal His heart to us, He communicates with words. But for folks like me, sometimes he has to draw a picture. I thought since Father’s Day is approaching, I would give you a glimpse into the gallery of my soul and show you a master Artist at work. . . .
The Bracelet
“Hold out your hand,” she said as I entered the room to kiss her good-night. With that, my daughter interrupted momentarily my nightly bedtime routine. “This is for you.” [click to continue…]
One of the dogwood trees my grandmother and I planted about 35 years ago.
The Leader of the Band is tired, and his eyes are growing old,
But his blood runs through my instrument, and his song is in my soul
My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man
I’m just a living legacy to the Leader of the Band.
-Dan Fogelberg
Alison had that look in her eye. Half smile, half dead-serious, she walked up and to me and said, “Some of us have been talking. And we’d like to ask you a favor.”
“What’s that?” I asked cautiously – bracing myself for, well, anything.
“We don’t know either of these people, and we don’t think they knew Grandmother all that well. We were wondering if you would say something – you know, more personal – in the service.”
Alison is my cousin, and she’d just asked the unthinkable – to stand up in front of a couple hundred family and friends and eulogize a family legend.
I’d done plenty of funerals before, but this one was different. This was family. And not just any family member. It was Grandmother, for cryin’ out loud. [click to continue…]
(A Turning Point Story)
Have you ever met someone who, in a matter of a few minutes, made you so mad you wanted to reach across a Pizza Hut booth and slap some sense into him? Or lay hands on him… by the throat? Or baptize him with a pitcher of Pepsi (‘cause he’s not worth wasting a pitcher of real Coke on)?
If you answered yes to any of those, you may have once been in youth ministry, too. Or you’re just a little weird when it comes to Pizza Hut.
This is a story with a surprise ending. This is Jason’s story. And it could be yours… or the next teenager you meet. [click to continue…]
You never knew Lillie Edwards. I hardly did either, except for a brief two-week period years ago. But Lillie will always be a significant figure in my life and memory.
When I met Lillie Edwards, she was dying. I was green-green-green as a young pastor, serving in my first church in a senior role.
Lillie Edwards would be my first funeral service. But she taught me some things about living, and about dying, before our paths parted. [click to continue…]
“I swear, I keep thinking, if somehow I press through, I can get where I want to go. If, of course, it doesn’t kill me or I don’t kill myself in the process.” (from my journal, July 18, 2005)
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“This is warfare,” Robin said.
“It’s God!” I snapped back, dispirited and resigned. “Let’s just go home.”
Well, there you have it. Now you know what we fight about at my house.
It was the day from hell. It started with a hard funeral – a suicide victim – at which I was to speak. My message to the grieving family and friends was to “be still – cease striving – and know that he is God.” It was on a Monday, following a very harried and stressful Sunday, in the middle of a very harried and stressful summer.
But this was the Monday when the scenery was supposed to change. With the help of my office staff, we had scheduled a trip to the mountains to write.
As in, the LifeVesting book.
Here’s a little proverbial advice, for what it’s worth: Beware of trying to change your scenery on Monday. [click to continue…]
It was a surprising experience – seeing old friends, and people I had said good-bye to almost ten years earlier in that south Mississippi town. I was surprised at the warmth of their response. I was surprised at the depth of their respect for me. I was surprised at the intensity with which they prayed and expected good things from this youth retreat I was to lead. I was surprised at how many names I remembered, and how natural it still felt to love them – even though I had not seen them in so long a time.
Needless to say, there was a rush of memories. Like the time I borrowed Don’s reel-to-reel tape recorder, and he said to me at least three times, “Please lock it up in your office.” I forgot. Don didn’t. He went back to check the church the next morning, and there was his tape recorder. (Pause here to shudder).
There were memories of the homes where we held Bible studies. Memories of the King’s Inn – the Christian coffee house we started (the sign still hung outside the deserted building).
I also was reminded of the married adult retreat I was asked to help lead while I was there – and wound up being the only single person on the trip. This really entertained everyone when the other retreat leader was doing his session on marital intimacy. I was not amused. [click to continue…]
“Glamour isn’t greatness, applause isn’t fame, prominence isn’t eminence. The man of the hour isn’t apt to be the man of the ages. A stone may sparkle but that doesn’t make it a diamond. People may have money but that doesn’t make them a success. It’s the seemingly unimportant people who determine the course of history. The greatest forces in the universe are never spectacular. Summer showers do more good than hurricanes but they don’t get a lot of publicity. The world would soon die but for the fidelity, loyalty, creativity and commitment of those whose names are un-honored and unsung.” -James Sizoo
