A Quote, a Muse, The Word @aquoteamusetheword - Tumblr Blog

The Music of My Life

“Music can heal the wounds which medicine cannot touch.” ~ Debasish Mridha

I remember when I fell in love with music, rock music. It was when my very cool uncle Lynn returned home from Vietnam. He had a reel-to-reel tape deck and giant headphones (hence the picture). This is when I first heard Iron Butterfly, King Crimson, Yes, Led Zeppelin, Warm, to name a few… I was hooked.

My Mom and stepdad loved music too. Our road trips always included loud signing with the windows down. I will never forget the Christmas when I received my first stereo. I still know my first two vinyl albums; Supertramp ‘Breakfast in America’ (a favorite even today) and John Lennon / Yoko Ono ‘Milk & Honey’.

Many Friday and Saturday nights were spent playing bumper pool in my friend Stephen's basement. We had a car 8 track player wired to a set of speakers. The only 8 track we had was Bad Company ‘Burning Sky’, I still know every word to every song.

Eventually, we purchased a CD player for the house. My mind was blown when I listened to the full digital recording that was Dire Straits ‘Brother in Arms’, I am sure our neighbors enjoyed it too.

In the event that someone under the age of thirty-five is reading this, I have some explaining to do. Here is a brief history of pre recorded music in my lifetime. In my early childhood vinyl LPs were what we listened to at home. The only option for the car was the 8 Track. If you don’t know what an 8 Track tape is, imagine a case twice as wide and twice as tall as your iPhone. It made up for its clunkiness by pausing and changing tracks in the middle of every other song (usually during the best part of the song). Finally, cassettes arrived, they were roughly half the size, played on both sides and you could record LPs on to them (I know the technology is overwhelming). CDs ushered in the digital age.

Believe it or not, we used to hear a song we liked on the radio, actually drive to the music store, browse the CDs, find the one with the song on it, pay $12.99 (if it was on sale), hope the rest of the songs were good, spend and hour recording it on to cassette so that we could listen to it in the car, this was a far cry from “Alexa, shuffle the hits of the eighties…”

I worked at Musicland when I was in college. After school, my first 'real' job was to manage the one in Brookwood Village in Birmingham. This store was the number one Jazz and Classical location in the entire 2000 store chain. We played it every morning and I learned to love these genres as well. David Sanborn ‘Straight to the Heart’, David Lanz ‘Cristofori’s Dream’ and Nigel Kennedy ‘Vivaldi’s Four Seasons’ are all still in my rotation.

It was here that I met the sweetest older man, Stan. He walked the mall a few times a week and he knew and loved classical music like no one else I have ever known. He was in the middle of the long and arduous task of buying CDs to replace his LPs as they were being released. I had his list and anytime a we received one of the recordings on CD, I would give him a call. We often had lunch in the food court, he taught me about classical composers, I taught him about Stevie Ray Vaughn.

Stan stopped walking the mall. I left two messages about new arrivals and he didn’t show. I was concerned and missed my friend. A few days later a man entered the store and asked for me, I introduced myself. He told me that he was Stan’s son and that his father had passed away. I never even knew that he had cancer. I will never forget the next words from his mouth…” my dad wanted me to tell you how much he appreciated your talks and you calling him, and he wanted you to have this.” He handed me an LP wrapped in brown paper. We embraced, he departed. I went to the back, shed a tear and unwrapped a pristine copy of ‘Meet the Beatles’ on Apple records, still in cellophane. I have never even had it appraised, to me it is priceless.

“Sing to the LORD a new song, for he has done marvelous things” ~Psalm 98:1

#supertramp #john lennon #dire straits #david sanborn #David lanz

THE INDICATOR OF PRAYER

One of my favorite stories on prayer, from one of my favorite authors...enjoy.

“It is not your business to succeed but to do right: when you have done so, the rest lies with God.” ~ C. S. Lewis

One of my favorite adventures in prayer involves Doug Coe, who has a ministry in Washington, D.C. that mostly involves people in politics and statecraft.

Doug became acquainted with Bob, an insurance salesman who was completely unconnected with any government circles. Bob became a Christian and began to meet with Doug to learn about his new faith. One day, Bob came in all excited about a statement in the Bible where Jesus says, “Ask whatever you will in my name, and you shall receive it.” “Is that really true?” Bob demanded. Doug explained, “Well, it’s not a blank check. You have to take it in context of the teachings of the whole Scripture on prayer. But yes—it really is true. Jesus really does answer prayer.” “Great!” Bob said. “Then I gotta start praying for something. I think I’ll pray for Africa.” “That’s kind of a broad target. Why don’t you narrow it down to one country?” Doug advised. “All right. I’ll pray for Kenya.” “Do you know anyone in Kenya?” Doug asked. “No.” “Ever been to Kenya?” “No.” Bob just wanted to pray for Kenya.

So, Doug made an unusual arrangement. He challenged Bob to pray every day for six months for Kenya. If Bob would do that and nothing extraordinary happened, Doug would pay him five hundred dollars. But if something remarkable did happen, Bob would pay Doug five hundred dollars. Bob began to pray, and for a long while nothing happened. Then one night he was at a dinner in Washington. The people around the table explained what they did for a living. One woman said she helped run an orphanage in Kenya—the largest of its kind. “You’re obviously very interested in my country,” the woman said to Bob, overwhelmed by his sudden barrage of questions. “You’ve been to Kenya before?” “No.” “You know someone in Kenya?” “No.” “Then how do you happen to be so curious?” “Well, someone is kind of paying me five hundred dollars to pray. . ..” She asked Bob if he would like to come visit Kenya and tour the orphanage. Bob was so eager to go, he would have left that very night if he could.

When Bob arrived in Kenya, he was appalled by the poverty and the lack of basic health care. Upon returning to Washington, he couldn’t get this place out of his mind. He began to write to large pharmaceutical companies, describing to them the vast need he had seen. He reminded them that every year they would throw away large amounts of medical supplies that went unsold. “Why not send them to this place in Kenya?” he asked. This orphanage received more than a million dollars’ worth of medical supplies.

The woman called Bob up and said, “Bob, this is amazing! We’ve had the most phenomenal gifts because of the letters you wrote. We would like to fly you back over and have a big party. Will you come?” So, Bob flew back to Kenya. While he was there, the president of Kenya came to the celebration, because it was the largest orphanage in the country, and offered to take Bob on a tour of Nairobi, the capital city. In the course of the tour, they saw a prison. Bob asked about a group of prisoners there. “They’re political prisoners,” he was told. “That’s a bad idea,” Bob said brightly. “You should let them out.” Bob finished the tour and flew back home.

Sometime later, Bob received a phone call from the State Department of the United States government: “Is this Bob?” “Yes.” “Were you recently in Kenya?” “Yes.” “Did you make any statements to the president about political prisoners?” “Yes.” “What did you say?” “I told him he should let them out.” And he did.

How about you?

What are you praying for? Give it six months. I won’t promise you five hundred dollars, but I will give you a refund on the cost of this book. To the contrary, if something extraordinary does happen, you have to write and tell me about it.

‘Water-Walking’ ~ Joh Ortberg

‘And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.’ ~John 14: 13-14

#John Ortberg

“She was a… Jewel”

“What we have once enjoyed deeply we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.” ~Helen Keller

Tuesday October 3rd, 2023

Today would have been the 105th birthday of Jewel Mardis Burgett, better known as my Maw Maw. She was truly one of a kind, a hard, tough as nails, scrappy (97lbs), modern day frontier woman. I was blessed to be her one and only grandchild, she adored me and she loved Jesus (the order was suspect, depending on my behavior).

I spent a lot of my childhood with her. I remember our long summer days; we would weed and pick the garden in the not so cool of the Geraldine Alabama mornings. We were always putting a puzzle together, she said that my eyes looked like windshield wipers scouring for the next piece. I have to admit that unlike my other Grandmother, Jewel could not cook. My Paw Paw always told us that if you put her fried okra in a can, it would make a great rattle… it was not a lie… or an exaggeration.

If you met her, you would call her reserved and shy. We as her family got to see a side of her that not many saw… her unexpected and outgoing sense of humor. For starters she surprised us by taking pictures outside of her apartment on her 90th birthday… in a blue bikini… in front of God and everyone else (I have pictures).

Maw Maw, Mom, Leigh Bee and I shared many adventures and memories, here are just a couple. One Christmas we had to abandon Mom’s house due to an electrical issue, we found an extended stay hotel room for the night. It had something I had never seen in person… a murphy bed. I commented “Maw Maw as small as you are, I bet we can fold you up into the wall behind the bed.” We did, like about 20 times. I can still hear her muffled laughter in the wall. We all howled until our stomachs hurt.

We took a trip to Chattanooga to visit the aquarium and the IMAX. She was quite the nature lover, there was not a plant or animal that she couldn’t name. So, she was amazed by the aquarium. Afterwards while we were walking to the IMAX a bumble bee as big as strawberry honed in on Leigh… she shrieked and in one fail swoop Maw Maw swatted it out of the air and squashed it on the sidewalk. It was like a scene out of a spaghetti western. If there had been iPhones, I am sure there would be a plaque to immortalize the event. The IMAX movie was 3D, I don’t think she watched five minutes of it, she kept turning around and giggling like a school girl at the 200 hundred people behind her in 3D glasses.

My Maw Maw was a veracious reader. She was over the moon when we went to St. Simmons for Easter and was finally able to see Christ’s Church that played such a big party in the Eugenia Price books that she so loved. I am sure that she is one of the main reasons I love to read (and write). Happy Birthday Maw Maw, we love and miss you, in the grand scheme of eternity we will see you soon.

“I thank my God every time I remember you.” ~ Philippians 1:3

The Branch

"God’s great holy joke about the messiah complex is this: Every human being who has ever lived has suffered from it, except one.

He was the Messiah." ~ John Ortberg

“Imagine you’re falling off a cliff, and sticking out of the cliff is a branch that is strong enough to hold you, but you don’t know how strong it is. As you fall, you have just enough time to grab that branch. How much faith do you have to have in the branch for it to save you? Must you be totally sure that it can save you? No, of course not. You only have to have enough faith to grab the branch. That’s because it’s not the quality of your faith that saves you; it’s the object of your faith. It doesn’t matter how you feel about the branch; all that matters is the branch. And Jesus is the branch.” ~ Tim Keller

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing ~ John 15:5

#tim keller

Trip of a Lifetime – Epilogue

“Take care of all your memories. For you cannot relive them.” ~ Bob Dylan

July 2013

The quality time spent with our friends is what really made the trip special.

After our nightly dinner we shared a devotion. It started with a passage of scripture, followed by thought provoking questions, discussion, and ended with prayers of thanksgiving and gratitude for this place, this time and for each other. Johnni, Mani and the rest of the staff joined us on the last night. I will never forget their Spanish prayers; I understood about one in five words, it was beautiful. Johnni later told me that he had been the caretaker for over three years and of the hundreds of groups that had stayed at Racho de Costa we were the only one to ever invite them to share a meal.

Late nights were not spent in a movie room; they were spent in the separate movie theater. Two ten-foot statue replicas of the Oscars greeted us at the entrance. The screen was 20 ft. across and it offered 6 rows of viewing pleasure. I distinctly remember four things… 1. The thermostat must have been stuck on 62 degrees. After the 97-degree days this place felt like we were in an igloo (blankets were mandatory). 2. There was a real deal popcorn machine and five gallon red and white plastic buckets. If they sold popcorn in this size at the Regal it would require a second mortgage. 3. Pillows, there must have been over 100 pillows, so many that we often recreated the stuffed animal scene from E.T. 4. Every movie we watched starred Denzel Washington.

One last story to tell… the massage. At the beginning of the week four of us had opted for the massages that were offered. Now the trip was almost over, and after five days in a tropical paradise do you really need a massage… not so much. The ladies went first. The massages were under beach side open air gazebos. The rest of our party watched from poolside some 20 feet above the beach. It came time for the guys. When I approached the gazebo, the masseuse made it clear that I was over dressed. The masseuse looked away, held up the sheet and reluctantly I climbed onto the table and covered up. This should have been relaxing, getting a massage and looking at the beautiful Gulf of California. It wasn’t. The wind was every bit of 30 miles an hour. Keeping the sheet tucked under my legs was more difficult than making successful polenta in the appetizer round on Chopped. Now, I am not one to put my pastor on a pedestal, but mine was on that hill with a perfect view. Somehow, I escaped with my dignity, albeit less relaxed than when I started.

Leaving was bittersweet. I really don’t remember much about the ride back through the desert. Leigh only took one Ambien on the return flight… she was fully awake when we landed. But when we arrived back at home the entire week seemed like a dream.

“Lord, if You do no more, you've done more than enough.” Psalms 118:24b

Thank God for The Fleas

“Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.” ~ Oscar Wilde

In her book The Hiding Place, Corrie Ten Boom tells of a time she discovered that God was working even in the most horrific circumstances.

Corrie and her sister Betsie had been imprisoned by the Nazis for hiding Jews behind the wall of their Holland home, and Nazi prison conditions pretty well unbearable.

Corrie writes:

“Barracks 8 was in the quarantine compound. Next to us–perhaps as a deliberate warning to newcomers–were located the punishment barracks. From there, all day long and often into the night, came the sounds of hell itself. They were not the sounds of anger, or of any human emotion, but of a cruelty altogether detached: blows landing in regular rhythm, screams keeping pace. We would stand in our ten-deep ranks with our hands trembling at our sides, longing to jam them against our ears, to make the sounds stop.

“It grew harder and harder. Even within these four walls there was too much misery, too much seemingly pointless suffering. Every day something else failed to make sense, something else grew too heavy.”

Yet, in the midst of the suffering, the women prisoners around Corrie and Betsie found comfort in the little Bible studies they held in the barracks. Corrie writes they gathered around the Bible “like waifs clustered around a blazing fire…The blacker the night around us grew, the brighter and truer and more beautiful burned the Word of God.”

When they were moved to Barracks 28, Corrie was horrified by the fact that their reeking, straw-bed platforms swarmed with fleas. How could they live in such a place?

It was Betsie who discovered God’s answer:

“Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus.” That’s it, Corrie! That’s His answer. “Give thanks in all circumstances!” That’s what we can do. We can start right now to thank God for every single thing about this new barracks!’

“I stared at her; then around me at the dark, foul-aired room…”

They thanked God for the fact they were together. They thanked God they had a Bible. They even thanked God for the horrible crowds of prisoners, that more people would be able to hear God’s Word. And then, Betsie thanked God for the fleas.

“The fleas! This was too much. ‘Betsie, there’s no way even God can make me grateful for a flea.’

“Give thanks in all circumstances,” ‘she quoted. ‘It doesn’t say, “in pleasant circumstances.” Fleas are part of this place where God has put us.’

“And so, we stood between tiers of bunks and gave thanks for fleas. But this time I was sure Betsie was wrong.”

It turned out that Betsie was not wrong; the fleas were a nuisance, but a blessing after all. The women were able to have Bible studies in the barracks with a great deal of freedom, never bothered by supervisors coming in and harassing them. They finally discovered that it was the fleas that kept those supervisors out.

Through those fleas, God protected the women from abuse and harassment. Dozens of desperate women were free to hear the comforting, hope-giving Word of God. Through those fleas, God protected the women from much worse things and made sure they had their deepest, truest needs met.

https://prayer-coach.com

Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. ~ 1 Thessalonians 5:13

The Dark of the Night, The Joy of the Morning

“A comfort zone is a beautiful place, but nothing grows there.” ~ John Assaraf

This week I just want to share some of my favorite writings. They bring me hope on the nights when my soul is troubled. They help me to face my fears and insecurities. They remind me that God is faithful, our hope is a who and that joy comes in the morning. ~ Craig

“The quickest way for anyone to reach the sun and the light of day is not to run west, chasing after the setting sun, but to head east plunging into the darkness until one comes to the sunrise.” ~ Gerald Sister – “A Grace Disguised”

Instead of running west, just plunge into the darkness. That’s counterintuitive. If you even think about it, all your instincts rebel. We avoid desperation, simply hoping the situation clears itself up, waiting for the darkness to lighten. But what if the desperation is a grace disguised? What if fighting your way through the darkness is the path to blessing? The quickest way through the desperation may well be to embrace it. Plunge into it. Fight your way through the darkness.

"Some of you think that the worst thing that could happen to you is that your sins will be found out and your secrets will be exposed. You’re afraid that someone’s going to bring up something you did a long time ago. You don’t want anyone to know, and since God already knows, you do your best to avoid him. You think the worst thing that could happen is that you get found out and are forced to confront the truth.

But that’s not the worst thing. The worst thing that could happen is that you go through your life and nobody knows. No one ever finds out. You just carry the weight of your guilt and shame around with you everywhere. The worst thing that could happen is that you spend your life trying to outrun God because you think he’s chasing you to collect what you owe—when he’s really chasing you to give you what you could never afford."

~ Kyle Idleman – “Grace is Greater” & “Don’t Give up”

“In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted.” ~ Psalm 77:2

“This is the day the LORD has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” ~ Psalm 118:24

Trip of a Lifetime

Part 4 – The Quiet of the Morning

“The prayer offered to God in the morning during your quiet time is the key that unlocks the door of the day.” ~ Adrian Rogers

July 2013

I don’t know if it was the three-hour time difference or the beauty of watching the sunrise over the Sea of Cortez, but I got up very early every day of the trip. One other traveling companion was up every morning as well. Unbeknownst to me she snapped one of my favorite photos (the one in today’s post). I will never forget reading the Word, praying, being still and soaking up the sheer magnitude of that view.

One morning before the masses stirred, I joined Johnni, his mom, his aunt and his father Mani as they prepared breakfast. Mani’s English was on par with my Spanish, but we tried and fumbled our way into a conversation. He informed me that we were the first group that did not request any alcohol for our visit. He asked why. I told him that the other three couples were pastors and leaders in our church and that my wife and I were less than five years sober. Our group had a great time, we often laughed until our bellies hurt, no alcohol was needed. He asked what kind of church we attended; I told him non-denominational Christian. Try to translate non-denominational into Spanish… we just went with ‘Christian’

Mani informed me that we had two things in common, he was 15 years sober and he was a Christian. Since the area was over 95% Catholic, I asked if that was where he attended church. He replied, “No I am a Christian, not Catholic”. Now was my turn to ask a question … how? This is his story:

Mani was staying out all night, sometimes not coming home for days. Through his tequila fog he often didn’t remember where he had been or what he had done. His family was hungry, they were about to lose their house and he had been fired by every fishing captain in La Paz. He came home after another all-night binge to find his possessions on the street, the door was locked, the locks had been changed… his wife had reached the end of her rope. He had finally hit rock bottom; he went to the docks to end it all. His intent was to tie himself to an anchor and kick it into the sea.

By chance (right), on this very dock was an American fisherman that Mani knew from many fishing trips. He asked Mani why he was crying, Mani told him it was over. The man talked him into walking back to the beach to “talk”. Mani said that he came completely clean, he told him everything, what a terrible person he was, an awful husband and father. The man told him that it was not too late. He shared the gospel with him. Mani heard it fresh; it made sense, he had hope. The man baptized him in the very sea where he intended to take his life. He never took another drink. His marriage and family were restored.

I shared my similar story with him. How I miraculously never took another drink and how God had restored my marriage. Through broken English and Spanish, we prayed and thanked God together. You can’t make this stuff up. Providence.

One more to go…

“Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.” ~Mark 1:35

Who is This Man

‘The Cross’

"The ground is level at the foot of the cross. Enjoy the full experience of Christ's multicultural family. It is preparation for Heaven."~ Bailey, Boyd

Two thousand years later, his death is the most important, most remembered death in the history of the world.

Pilate, who wanted above all to be a friend of Caesar, ended up writing in Hebrew, the language of the people of God; in Greek, the language of the cultured world; and in Latin, the language of the Roman Empire, so that the whole world could read: JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS. Jesus outlasted, outmaneuvered, and out-thought every group, every power. But not just that. Mostly he just out-loved everybody. For Jesus in the garden had one agenda that superseded the agendas of all the others: love. “I’ll die on Friday.”

On Friday, Jesus died for love. He said it was his choice. It wasn’t Pilate’s. It wasn’t Herod’s. It wasn’t Caesar’s. It wasn’t the chief priests’. It wasn’t the crowds’. He said, “I lay down my life for the sheep…. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again.”

The cross has become the most widely recognized symbol in the world. It marks more graves, graces more jewelry, and sits atop more churches than any other design. The making of the sign of the cross is known from basilicas to baseball diamonds. Finding a logo has become big business, but no corporation, country, or cause has produced such an enduring or widespread image.

The cross’s very ubiquity causes us to forget what a strange symbol it is. It was the most humiliating means of execution available to Rome. Imagine choosing the electric chair or gallows or a guillotine as an icon for anything.

The cross was changed from the symbol of a human empire’s power into a symbol of the suffering love of God. It was changed from an expression of ultimate threat into an expression of ultimate hope. It came, in a sense, to express the exact opposite of its original purpose — that the power of embraced sacrifice is greater than the power of coercion.

How did this happen?

Jesus chose it. He chose to die on it. After Friday, neither the cross nor the world could stay the same.

‘Who Is This Man?: The Unpredictable Impact of the Inescapable Jesus’ ~ John Ortberg .

‘You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.’ Genesis 50:20

Trip of a Lifetime

Part 3 – Rancho de Costa

"God is primarily in the character-forming business, not the circumstance-shaping business." ~ John Ortberg

July 2013

This was not a hotel; it was an all-inclusive villa. They told us to pack light, just a change of clothes or two (plus swim suits). I believe the phrase was… “Your most difficult decision every day will be if your clothes smell too bad to wear another day”. And yes, there was a laundry service.

We wired money ahead of time and picked favorite meals for the week. This place was amazing, grown onsite were coconuts, mango, papaya, oranges, kiwi, pineapple and avocado. Our host Johnni greeted us each morning to fresh cut fruit and fresh squeezed juice. The daily afternoon snack was made from scratch tortilla chips and homemade to die for guacamole. As well as fresh made virgin Pina Coladas. We were so spoiled!

There were not too many extracurricular activities offered. There was snorkeling along a reef in the bay, professional massages (more on that later) and deep-sea fishing. I opted for my own activities of walks on the beach, an occasional swim plus reading and sleeping for ten hours a day. Two of the guys in our party went fishing. They caught two Mahi Mahi the size of torpedoes. Johnni’s dad Mani was the boat captain and the resident fish cleaner and he made quick work of the fish. We had fish steaks, fish sticks, ceviche, fish tacos… Sorry for another Forrest Gumpish diatribe. This was enough food for the eight in our group, the four person staff and 20 pounds left over, that was donated to a local orphanage.

Mani took us all for a ride in the choppy beyond belief Sea of Cortez in his tiny “eight is more than enough” fishing boat. He took great joy in hitting the waves full boar and getting us airborne. About 30 minutes in, I am starting to not feel so great. I held on for dear life, it felt like I was on a tilt-a-whirl in the middle of the ocean. If you don’t know what a tilt-a-whirl is, it is why your carnival ticket also doubles as no liability disclaimer. When we returned it was almost dark and I barely stumbled my way back to our bedroom. Johnni had prepared another feast, the night was filled with laughter. My never-ending spinning room was filled with… you don’t want to know. Johnni told me they had Dramamine in the morning!

More to come…

“Heal me, Lord, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for you are the one I praise.” ~Jeremiah 17:14

The Story Behind the Song

“Satan does not fill us with hatred of God, but with forgetfulness of God.” ~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Horatio Gates Spafford, was a Chicago lawyer who – although previously successful – had suffered setbacks when his considerable real estate investments were lost during the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. His finances took another hit during the Panic of 1873 financial crisis. After two rough years, he decided to alleviate some of his family’s stress by giving them a change of scenery.

Plans were made for the family (including Horatio, his wife Anna, and their four daughters) to journey to Europe in November 1873 via the French iron steamship Ville du Havre. Horatio accompanied them to New York, but at the last minute had to change his plans because of a business obligation. He sent his family on ahead, promising to join them in time. Wife Anna and daughters Annie (b. 1862), Margaret Lee (b. 1864), Elizabeth (b. 1868), and Tanetta (b. 1871) set sail on November 15th.

His family never reached their destination – and he never saw his four daughters again.

Ironically, the Ville du Havre’s captain – acting as confident as a familiar future captain on another “unsinkable” ship 39 years later – assured Anna Spafford and other passengers that his ship was very safe and the voyage would be an easy one. A week into the voyage, on 22 November 1873, the liner collided with the British clipper Loch Earn. Even as the ship was struck, sounding like an explosion according to passengers, the captain told everyone “It’s nothing, nothing.” As the ship began to take on water, the crew assured passengers that the ship was too safe to sink.

But they were wrong; the Ville du Havre sank in just 12 minutes, killing an estimated 226 people – including all four of the Spafford daughters. Anna survived the shipwreck by clinging to a floating plank.

As anyone can imagine, the accounts of the Ville du Havre sinking are terrifying. Heartbreakingly, in the last moments of daughter Annie Spafford’s life she is recorded as proclaiming: “Don’t be afraid. The Sea is His and He made it.” As Anna was thrown into the sea, she felt her baby Tanetta pulled out of her arms by the rough waves. All four daughters drowned. When Anna was finally rescued, she was unconscious, floating on a piece of debris.

The rescue ship Tremountain took the survivors to Cardiff. During this voyage Anna said few words. A friend who had also survived the sinking, clergymen Theophile Lorriaux, was with her when she finally uttered the words: “God gave me four daughters. They have been taken. One day I shall understand why. I will understand why.”

Once Anna arrived in Cardiff, she sent a telegram to her husband in Chicago that must have devastated him: “Saved, but saved alone. What shall I do?”

Horatio left Chicago to meet Anna, who was staying with friends in France. At one point during the voyage, the ship’s captain summoned Horatio to his cabin and explained that he had determined the exact spot where the Ville du Havre had gone down. He let Horatio know that they were at that moment passing that very spot. Horatio then returned to his own cabin and, leaning for strength on his tremendous faith in God, he penned these words:

‘When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul.

It is well with my soul,

It is well, it is well with my soul.’

~ Gena Philibert-Ortega

"Peace, I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." John 14:27

Trip of a Lifetime

Part 2 – The Road Trip

"Look at life through the windshield, not the rear-view mirror" ~ Byrd Baggett

July 2013

The 98-degree air hit us almost as hard as the ultra-loud music as we exited the airport. Cabo San Lucas Airport is actually only an airport in name. It is really a 200’ outdoor bar that just so happens to be where planes land and depart. We weaved our way through the skimpily clad mobile cowgirl bartenders. They were out fitted with gun belts, bottles of tequila took the place of guns, shot glasses the place of bullets… all of this at 9a.m. local time.

We were so relieved to see a driver in front of a van holding up a sign with our party’s name. Finally, we are making a get away from Sodoma y Gomorra (I used Google translate). I noticed that our driver was packing (a gun) … I thought this part of Mexico was somewhat safe. We stow away our luggage and start to enter the 4-row van. I was taught to be a gentleman, so to the back of the vehicle I went. I was greeted by another employee in the very back seat, we will call him a guard since he had a MACHINE GUN in his lap… more than a little concerned now. Oh well, when in Cabo… I was glad that Leigh was not concerned at all as she could still have been a stand in on the Walking Dead (two Ambien).

The drive from the airport to Rancho de Costa resort is a little over three hours. We followed the coast and then winded our way through the desolate but beautiful mountainous back country of Baja California. I asked the guard if it would be safe to rent a car and make this trip, a thunderous belly laugh was followed by a serious and stern ‘NO’.

After two hours we stopped for lunch at Loncheria Trasviña in San Bartolo. The driver said that this place had three things going for it; it is safe, the food is great and the bathrooms are clean. He was right on all three, but the most memorable thing about this stop was that this was Leigh’s first memory of Mexico… she is alive!

The last hour meandered along, the roads got smaller, we even started seeing livestock walking in the road. On our right we noticed an eight-foot chain link fence, it went on for a couple of miles. Eventually a nondescript guard station and gate appeared and we pulled in. There were more guards and more machine guns, thank goodness these were the good guys! In we went, the dirt road ultimately led to the picture in this post. The start of a week to remember.

More to come…

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.” Proverbs 3:5-6

Keep Your Fork

If a Vacation Is Worth Planning and Anticipating, How Much More Should We Anticipate Life in Heaven? ~ Randy Alcorn

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So, as she was getting her things 'in order,' she contacted Her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.

She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.

Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.

'There's one more thing,' she said excitedly.

'What's that?' came the Pastor's reply?

'This is very important,' the young woman continued. 'I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.'

The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.

That surprises you, doesn't it?' the young woman asked.

'Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request,' said the Pastor.

The young woman explained. 'My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part Because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!'

So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder 'What's with the fork?' Then I want you to tell them: 'Keep your fork the best is yet to come.'

The Pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She KNEW that something better was coming.

At the funeral people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, 'What's with the fork?' And over and over he smiled.

During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about The fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.

He was right. So, the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come.

Remember...keep your fork!

“However, as it is written: “What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived”, the things God has prepared for those who love him. “ - 1 Corinthians 2:9

A Suit and Tie?

" If you want to make everyone happy, don't be a leader, sell ice cream.” ~ Steve Jobs

Being part of church leadership is an honor, a privilege and a blessing. But when a new 30 something pastor is called to lead an established church… change can be a challenge and an opportunity. I am thankful that we can lean on the insight and wisdom of Godly men like Bob Russell to help keep moving the church forward.

_________________________________

About 18 years ago, Kyle Idleman came to my office with a serious concern. Kyle was 26 years old and had been hired six months before to be on Southeast Christian church’s teaching team. He was a phenomenal young preacher, and our congregation was enamored with him. At the time, I had been the senior pastor of the church for 36 years.

Kyle got right to the point. “I know you’ve got this policy that anyone who preaches at Southeast Christian is to wear a suit and tie. But I don’t feel comfortable in a suit and tie. I feel like a hypocrite in a suit and tie. More importantly, I don’t think I’m relating to my generation in a suit and tie.”

Appropriate, respectful dress in worship was fairly important to me, so I responded, “Well, Kyle, we’re worshipping Almighty God here. If you went to visit the president of the United States, don’t you think you’d wear a suit and tie?” (I knew he wouldn’t have a comeback for that!) But he did not miss a beat…

“I’d probably not wear a suit and tie if the president were my dad.”

Wow! I wasn’t ready for that answer. I should have had a good reply for him, but none came to mind. What did come to mind was a question for me: “Was I standing on a Scriptural principle or stubbornly fighting for a man-made tradition?”

I often insisted, “The church that doesn’t change, dies.” But when it came to our dress code, I had remained inflexible. I asked myself, “Is this a mountain I want to die on? Am I willing to run the risk of losing a talent like Kyle Idleman over whether he wears a scarf around his neck in the pulpit? What does the Bible say?” Look up “suit and tie” in a Biblical study concordance, and it’s not there.

After a long pause, I reluctantly conceded. “Okay, Kyle, you don’t have to wear a suit and tie when you preach, but be neat.” The staff dress code changed overnight. While it was a big topic of conversation in the congregation for a while, most everyone eventually adapted to more casual apparel at church.

“Where the Bible speaks, we speak. Where the Bible is silent, we are silent.”

~ Bob Russell – Selection from “Church Attire – Human Tradition or Biblical Principle?”

Matthew 6:25, Galatians 3:26-27, James 2:2-4

Hoyt (Paw Paw’s Proverb)

"Pride and humility cannot coexist." ~ Boyd Bailey

In honor of his 108th birthday I decided to revise and repost this story about my Paw Paw.

I was up early on a Saturday of a holiday weekend, on the screened in porch working my way through Boyd Baily’s “Seeking God in the Proverbs”. I opened the book to my current page and read this…

Pride Before Destruction

"Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall."

-Proverbs 16:18

Pride is an entrée to destructive behavior.

Maybe it was the beautiful view of the lake, maybe it was some of the circumstances in my life at the time, but this teaching hit home and I was convicted. A Bible inscribed Hoyt S. Burgett (my Paw Paw) was on the coffee table. I decided to dig into scripture using his bible. When I opened it, this is what I saw.

There was only one scripture referenced in his bible, only one marked, Proverbs 16:18. The very Proverb that my devotion was based on. I guess this proverb convicted him too. Ironic because he was the humblest man I have ever known.

I think of my Paw Paw often. He did not appear to be a successful man in the world's eyes. He served our country in the navy during WWII, he was a police officer, a truck driver and a chicken farmer. He lived meagerly on 20 acres in Geraldine, Al.

Now as I look back at him with older and hopefully wiser eyes, I know these things. He valued relationships over finances, he never said a negative thing about anyone, and no one had a bad thing to say about him. I never heard a curse word come from his mouth. I never heard him use a bigoted statement (in an area strewn in racism). I literally witnessed him give a homeless man the coat off of his back on a cold winter day. At his funeral I was told stories of him leaving work undone on his farm to go and help others. He had not one ounce of unhealthy pride that I ever witnessed. I did not know it at the time, but he modeled Christ for me. In God’s eyes (and mine) he was a very successful man.

Not all rich people go to hell, not all poor people go to heaven. But I do feel God has a soft spot for the poor. Often, they know they need Him and rely on Him as we all should. They pray for rain, for sun, for protection, for provision… sometimes for the strength to carry on one more day... in essence for daily bread.

Sometimes I need to relinquish the power I've never had to obtain peace, die to self, to pride and just follow the example of a north Alabama seed sower who followed the example of a poor carpenter from Nazareth.

Praying that someone sees Jesus (and my Paw Paw) in me today.

“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 14:11)

“Better Than I Deserve”

"Only put off until tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone. “~ Pablo Picasso

This story isn’t mine either, it’s from my writing redneck hero, enjoy! ~CT

________________________________________________________________

This story isn’t mine, but I’m going to tell it like I heard it. I first heard it from an old man who drove a Ford. And I have a soft spot for old Ford men.

So, there he is. The old man is driving. He sees a car on the side of the highway. A kid stands beside it. Hood open. The man pulls over.

He’s America’s quintessential old man. He drives a half-ton Ford that he’s been babying since the seventies. He changes the oil regularly, waxes it on weekends. The candy-apple red paint still looks nice.

He looks under the kid’s hood. He can see the problem right away, (a) the transmission is shot, and (b) it’s not a Ford. Fixing it would cost more than the vehicle.

The kid is in a hurry, and asks, “Can you give me a ride to work? I can’t afford to lose my job.” So, the old man drives the kid across town. They do some talking. The man learns that the boy has four children, a young wife, and a disabled mother living with him. The boy works hard for a living. Bills keep piling up.

It rips the man's heart out.

They arrive at a construction site. There are commercial framers in tool belts, operating nail guns. The kid pumps the old man’s hand and thanks him for the ride. “Take care of yourself,” the man tells the kid. The kid takes his place among workmen, climbing on pine-framed walls, swinging a hammer.

The old man decides to help the kid. He doesn’t know how. Or why. But it’s a decision that seems to make itself. That same day, he’s at a stop light. He sees something. An ugly truck, sitting in a supermarket parking lot. A Ford. A for-sale sign in the window. He inspects it. Single cab. Four-wheel drive. Low mileage. The paint is flaking. Rust on the doors. It’s a glorified hunk of metal, but they don’t make them like this anymore.

Out of impulse, the old man makes a deal. Old men who drive candy-apple Fords have been known to do that.

When the workday is over, the old man pulls into the kid’s jobsite again. The kid is loading work vehicles. “What’re you doing here?” the kid asks. “Came to give you a ride home.” The kid hops in. They drive. They talk again. The sun is lowering. The kid smells like sweat and sawdust.

They arrive in a supermarket parking lot. The old man shuts the engine off.

“What’re we doing?” the kid says. The old man points at an ugly truck with a for-sale sign. “What do you think of that truck?” The kid’s face gets serious. His eyes become large. “I asked you a question,” the old man says. “I know it don’t look pretty, but with a little work, it can be a dependable vehicle.”

The kid is unable to speak. He looks like he might even cry.

The old man doesn’t care much for tears—men from his generation don't. So, he tosses the kid a set of keys.

“She’s all yours,” the old man says. “You gotta be kidding,” the boy answers. “You BOUGHT that truck for me? You don’t even know me.”

“No, son,” the man says. “I didn’t buy that truck for you. I bought it for ME. I’m gonna fix her up, make her pretty again.”

The old man pats the steering wheel of Candy-Apple Red.

“THIS is the one I’m giving to you.”

Old men. May I live long enough to be one someday.

~ Sean Dietrich “Old Trucks” May 14, 2022

” I was young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken or their children begging bread.” ~ Plasms 37:25

Comments

Hoyt (Paw Paw’s Proverb)

"Pride and humility cannot coexist." ~ Boyd Bailey

In honor of his 108th birthday I decided to revise and repost this story about my Paw Paw.

Pride Before Destruction

"Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall."

-Proverbs 16:18

Pride is an entrée to destructive behavior.

Now as I look back at him with older and hopefully wiser eyes, I know these things. He valued relationships over finances, he never said a negative thing about anyone, and no one had a bad thing to say about him. I never heard a curse word come from his mouth. I never heard him use a bigoted statement (in an area strewn in racism). I literally witnessed him give a homeless man the coat off of his back on a cold winter day. At his funeral I was told stories of him leaving work undone on his farm to go and help others. He had not one ounce of unhealthy pride that I ever witnessed. I did not know it at the time, but he modeled Christ for me. In god’s eyes (and mine) he was a very successful man.

Praying that someone sees Jesus (and my Paw Paw) in me today.

“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 14:11)

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

A Quote, a Muse, The Word