A Word Fitly Spoken

There's nothing quite like an old-fashioned Southern barbeque. I'm not talking about the barbeque that comes from a little barbeque shack on a rural southern road.  I'm talking about an old-fashioned Southern barbeque like our ancestors had back in the 1800's. The happy planned barbeque at the Wilkes place at Twelve Oaks from Gone with the Wind comes to mind.  

 

That tradition is alive and well in the rural South. 

 

Back in the mid 1990's, I had the privilege to be invited to July 4th barbecues at Kenneth Morgan's pond house in Edgefield County, South Carolina. I was his pastor, and he always invited me and my family for the festivities and to bless the feast. Ah, the benefits of pastoral service!

 

Kenneth loved people and his large extended family. Several drove long distances for the gala occasion. It was an event not to be missed. With Kenneth, the more the merrier!  As I recall, fifty to sixty or more gathered to share stories, laugh, and visit with those they hadn't seen in ages. Real Southern stuff!  

 

Kenneth was a great Southern host mixing and mingling with family and friends making everyone feel welcome, and welcome we were!  

 

Pit cooked
BBQ chicken

Kenneth and some of the men stayed up all night laughing and telling stories while slowly cooking the Q over an open pit. The men basted the chicken throughout the night with a special home made Carolina sauce 

 

The ladies fixed all the sides and deserts.  There was "Miss" Angel's (pronounced with a short "A" like in "Ann." In the South, you show respect to an older woman even if she's married by the title Miss instead of Mrs." 

 

Well, where was I?  Oh yea.  There was Miss Angel's real Southern

caramel and red velvet cakes.  They were to die for.  Angel's husband, Mr. W. C., made the hash. You gotta have hash with barbeque, and he made the best.  Edgefield County is known for its peach growing farms, and fresh picked peaches abounded at fruit stands in the peach growing area. So, the ladies made mouth watering peach pies and peach cobblers. Laid before us were other assorted pies and cakes too. Someone always brought Southern fried pies (Yankees call them tarts). They are dried apples or peaches wrapped in a flour dough and fried). 

 

One barbeque staple we always had was Carolina rice. South Carolinians make rice like nobody else on the planet.  It's part of their culture from the old rice plantations on the coast in the 1700's. Other sundry Southern sides filled the tables like baked beans, biscuits, fresh corn on the cob, home made pickles, and fresh picked green beans out of someone's garden cooked with fatback, and fresh picked big, plump, perfectly ripened tomatoes. 

 

There was always enough to feed the whole county it seemed. 

 

We all loaded our plates, People gathered on the porch, in the pond, house, in the yard under the shade trees and ate until we were about to pop. Then, we went back for more. The barbecued chicken was so tender, it fell off the bone. We washed it down with a tall glass of Southern sweet ice tea. 

 

Then when we thought we couldn't eat another bite, we grabbed a clean plate and piled it high with cake, pie, and cobbler.  

 

After dinner, we lazied around and fought hard to keep from nodding off. There's nothing like a nap after a big dinner, but that would have to wait later after we got home. 

 

Instead of napping, the men kind of gathered in small groups to talk politics, catch up on family news, church news from near and far, and gossip a little bit. The women segregated themselves as they do in the South and cleaned up our mess and talked about whatever women talk about. 

 

After dinner on one of those happy 4th of Julys, I was busily talking as preachers are wont to do and noticed that Johnny had left us.  I looked around and spotted him fishing on the far side of the pond. 

 

I had been praying for Johnny and thought of him often.  He had been raised in church but was no longer active. Oh, he attended on occasion.

 

Here was my chance to talk with him privately. I excused myself and made my way over to chit chat with him while he was alone. I felt something was bothering him to cause him to miss the happy post-dinner fellowship.

 

"You had any luck?" I asked. 

 

"A few nibbles. Caught one not big enough to keep," he replied.

 

To be honest, I thought he was a little annoyed in that I had invaded his privacy. Sometimes, a man wants to be left alone to deal with whatever he's dealing with. 

 

So, we just stood beside each other in silence for a while before I spoke not knowing quite what to say.  

 

"We sure would like to have you in our church," I said hoping to start a conversation. 

 

"When I go, I like to go to my home church where my mother and family go.  I've been a member there all my life.  I'm not Baptist. I'm Pentecostal."

 

"That's good," I answered. Baptists are a little dry compared to Pentecostals.  I wish we had some of that Pentecostal spirit."

 

More silence. 

 

"Well," I thought, "that bombed."

 

"You know Johnny" I said breaking the silence, "It's important to go to church and get involved.  For me, I need the fellowship and encouragement. I know every church has their problems. My church has problems as you well know. They all do."

 

"Yea, my home church has issues too."

 

"But Jesus died for us, the church, and filled it with misfits like me. Look at his disciples. They argued and fussed, but Jesus loved them anyway. They were a band of misfits like you and me.  Know that you are welcome in our church. I'm always glad to see you when you attend.

 

"And church gives us a chance to grow in Christ too.  The singing, the preaching of the Word of God, praying for one another, and bearing one another's burdens."

 

"I'll think about it." He responded. 

 

"Yes, please do and pray too."

 

I talked on a little while longer. I can't remember everything I said.  I think I had a prayer with him and excused myself. I could tell he wanted to be alone. 

 

I didn't think much more about our meeting beside the pond. But obviously, he did.  

 

Johnny soon started attending our church more often. Later, he was there every Sunday. He moved his membership to our church, and it wasn't long before the church recognized his gifts and made him a deacon. 

 

After six years of ministry with these fine people, I had a melt down in a deacons meeting and resigned as pastor. Johnny was the only deacon who tried to talk me out of it. But, I huffed off anyway.  Driving home, I realized my foolish and rash decision and regretted it. 

 

I kind of lost touch with Johnny. We'd see each other from time to time on different occasions. But, we didn't get a chance to talk much. 

 

Recently, I was invited to officiate a wedding to be held at Johnny's church, my former church. I was presently surprised to find that his wife was there to operate the sound system. And where his wife is, Johnny is usually there too.  

 

At the wedding reception-dinner, we sat together and had an opportunity to catch up on family news. As we were about to depart, Johnny told me some things that I'll treasure the rest of my life. 

 

Me and Johnny

"Do you remember that 4th of July when I was off by myself fishing?" He asked. 

 

"Yes," I answered. 

 

"I felt that you came to me as a shepherd seeking his lost sheep.  You weren't pushy or condemning. You just came at a time when I was really low and dealing with some stuff. I still remember some of the words you said. That meeting  by  the pond almost twenty years ago changed my life."

 

Johnny and I became emotional. I had no idea what a few encouraging words had meant to him - words that the Lord used to change his life. Amazing!  It's like that verse in Proverbs.  "A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in baskets of silver" (Proverbs 25:11).

 

I had a confession to make too. Something I had never done but should have done a long time ago. I apologized for exploding, resigning, and huffing off at that deacons meeting fourteen years ago.  

 

I said, " I  wish I could rewind time and have a do-over."

 

Then Johnny said, "Yes, we are both wiser today than we were back then."  

 

"Ain't that the truth," I responded. "It's like that old Amish saying, 'We get too soon old and too late smart.'" 

 

We hugged necks and vowed to get together again for a couples dinner somewhere. 

 

What a night!  What an experience!  You just never know  the effect of  what a good word spoken in love has. The Bible says, "Anxiety in a man's heart weighs him down, but a good word makes him glad" (Proverbs 12:25).

 

Critical and judgmental words tear down and destroy people.  Encouraging words spoken in love build up.  Words have a tremendous effect for good or bad upon all of us.  So, be a builder upper.  Speak encouragement in the spirit of Christ's love for you.  The effect can change the life of a person whose really low and dealing with weighty issues. 

 

When two or three are walking together, it will be a much lighter load for isn't that what a brother and a sister are for?

 

Finish your devotion with "Standing in the Gap" by Babbie Mason.  Click the link or click the arrow on the imbedded YouTube video.

 

 

 

 

The Less Traveled Road

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.

-Robert Frost

Me, Roger, Denise

It was a great mid-October weekend spent with Roger Kuehn and his friend, Denise Shoemaker, in Indian Mound, Tennessee, out in the middle of nowhere on the eastern ridge of the Cumberland Plateau near Sparta, Tennessee.

I served as Roger's pastor from 1976-1980 and we recently reconnected. He and Denise invited Joyce and I to visit with them and stay in their "Get-Away" cottage close to their log cabin. A lot of water has passed under the bridge in 34 years, and we enjoyed sharing our stories with one another. Denise and Joyce enjoyed getting to know one another too. 



Cheyenne

They own an American Paint horse ranch with 17 horses. Joyce loves horses and was in horse heaven. She fell in love with their frisky, cute four month old Philly, Cheyenne, and wanted to take her back to Appling. 

In spite of the weekend rain, Roger and Denise

Syrup Making Mill

showed us the sights around the Cumberland Plateau mountains. Saturday, we went to Mennonite country in Muddy Pond, Tennessee. We enjoyed shopping in their quaint stores and got to see an old fashioned Sorghum Syrup making operation. Needless to say, we bought some of their sorghum syrup. My grandfather and I used to enjoy sorghum syrup over my grandmother's hot biscuits. You can't hardly find it any more in the grocery stores today. We took a scenic drive back to their place through the Calf Killer River Valley. Calf-Killer was a Cherokee Indian chief and the early pioneers named the river for him. 


Center Hill Lake

Sunday, we went with them to their church, Baxter United Methodist, and enjoyed a Tennessee mountain country service. After dinner at the Golden Corral in Cookesville, they took us on a sightseeing tour of the magnificent Center Hill Lake formed by the Caney Fork River of which the Calf Killer River is a tributary. That all flows into the Tennessee River. Roger took us up an old winding former wagon trail road. We had almost ascended to the top where a fallen tree blocked the road. Like 19th century travelers, we had to stop and move it out of the way before proceeding. 

We said our goodbyes Monday and headed back to Georgia. 

The trip to Tennessee via Interstates 20, 285, and 75 was awful. The Atlanta and Chattanooga traffic was absolutely awful. Nerve racking!  So, we plugged in our GPS to go home a different route through the mountains of Tennessee, North Carolina, and North Georgia. It was the road less traveled. 

We drove through the rain and fog, but even that didn't dampen the gorgeous autumn drive through the winding, twisting mountain roads. We were on adventure and weren't disappointed.
 
After traveling about 60 miles, we came up on Wooden's Apple Orchard near Pikeville, Tennessee. We had to stop.  We loaded up on fresh picked apples and sweet potatoes to take home. They also had a restaurant serving down home Southern meals. I got the Salisbury steak, homemade fried okra, homemade green beans, and cornbread. All were just like my Mom used to make. Boy, was it good!



William Jennings Bryan

We continued out adventure and soon rode into Dayton, Tennessee. As we passed the courthouse, a historical marker caught my eye. THAT was the courthouse where the famous Scopes "monkey" Trial took place in 1925. Being the history nut that I am, we had to stop and look around. There in the courthouse lawn was a statue of one of my heroes, William Jennings Bryan who prosecuted the case for the State of Tennessee against John Scopes who was defended by the great agnostic lawyer, Clarence Darrow. Scopes broke the Tennessee law which forbad teaching evolution in the public schools. He was found guilty and fined $100. The trial gained international coverage.  Bryan had run for President three times. Once, he ran as the Populist Party candidate with Tom Watson from Thomson, Georgia.  Thomson is near Appling where we live. Bryan was an outstanding Christian statesman and an outspoken Christian. Unfortunately, the courthouse museum containing memorabilia from the trial was closed on the Columbus Day holiday. 

After our surprise find in Dayton, we continued our journey home which included a scenic drive along the Ocoee River. 

The road less traveled was filled with wonderful surprises and sure beat the maddening traffic in Chattanooga, Atlanta, and the congested interstates. 

Wooden's Orchard

And that's kind of the way it is on the Gospel Road too. It's the road less traveled. Jesus said, "Narrow is the road that leads to life, and only a few find it" (Matthew 7:14). The road to life is the road less traveled and is filled with surprises and adventure. Every turn leads higher and higher. Through the valleys, along the rivers, and stopping at the orchards to taste and see that the Lord is good is a pleasant journey away from the maddening world and culture so many follow. It is a journey along green pastures and waters flowing with the fountain of life. It is marked by the history of Calvary where our Savior suffered, bled, and died opening up for us the narrow road that leads to the abundant life now and life eternal. The Holy Spirit is our GPS leading us to our heavenly home. There's no other way for me. I'll take the road less traveled any day! Won't you?

Enjoy the "Glory Road" (Click the link) sung by the Gaither Homecoming Friends. Or, click the arrow on the embedded YouTube video.

The Gift of Emotions

Who doesn’t want to be happy?  I think most if not all of us have the wish and desire for happiness in life.  I certainly do. 

But, I know as you know that happiness is elusive because happiness is getting what we want, and we don’t always get what we want.

Happiness is a fleeting emotion.  The feeling doesn’t last long even when we get what we want. 

Nevertheless, we are supposed to be happy!  Our culture fosters that idea.  I once attended a church service during a time when I was between pastorates. I was really low.  I was so low that I was reaching up to touch rock bottom.  I didn’t need to hear the worship leader say, “Some of you look sad.  Don’t look sad!  Be happy.  Come on everybody, how about a big smile to start the service today?”  I felt sick.  I felt like I just wanted to get up and leave.  My happiness machine was broken and wasn’t going to generate any happiness for a while.  I had to work through some things and get my mind and emotions around what had caused my despair.     You can’t be happy when you’re sad even when the worship leader tells you to be happy.  Instead, I needed the freedom to feel all of my emotions pouring over me which included anger, sad, loneliness, and hurt. 

God made us emotional.  They are a gift. Receive them.  Experience them fully.  I think this is part of what Jesus meant when He said that He gives life fully and abundantly (John 10:10).  Full living is to fully experience the emotional pain of hurt, sadness, loneliness, and other emotions instead of self-medicating with alcohol or building a wall around the heart to block the unpleasant, painful ones.

Let go and experience the emotion of hurt which speaks to our desire for healing and wholeness.  Sadness speaks to our need to grieve and accept life on life’s terms.  Loneliness speaks to our deep desire for relationship with God and others.  These are not bad emotions but good ones because emotions lead us to the understanding that we not complete within ourselves. 

Emotions point us to our need for a love-relationship with God and true friends for encouragement and support completing in us what is lacking.  I think this is what Jesus meant by a full, complete and meaningful life. 

Emotions tell us that we are alive and that life has meaning. I feel; therefore, I’m alive.

To be alive is to experience the gift of emotions and understand what they are telling us. 

Understanding them helps gives life meaning.  Jesus certainly experienced his emotions.  He didn’t build a wall around his heart.  He wept at the tomb of Lazarus. He hurt when thousands left him after feeding them. He experienced loneliness in the Garden when he longed for his disciples to pray with him.

Gladness, as fleeting as it is, comes too when we walk through the pain, listen to the heart, and fully feel all of the emotions that make us human.  Jesus walked through grief, hurt, loneliness and much more.  Gladness came and went and came again for him.  He experienced his emotions deeply and fully in his humanity.  He showed that all of our emotions mysteriously weave and work together making the heart into a beautiful tapestry.    

(Special thanks to Chip Dodd’s insights from his book, The Voice of the Heart.)  Click link to preview and order Dodd's book from Amazon.

Click the arrow in the embedded video or click this link for "I Give You My Heart" by Hillsong.