ALJC – Mostly From Memory

Old Men

I want to be an old man one day. I want to drive a squeaky clean pickup truck to meet my friends for breakfast at Jack’s at 5:30 in the morning. I’ll eat a steak biscuit unless the bologna biscuits are on sale. We’ll sit at the round table and laugh about the good old days when gas was only .89¢ when we started driving. When a stranger walks in we’ll ask if anybody knows him. And if they don’t, we’ll get to know him. We’ll have nicknames for all the little kids because we might not remember their real names. That will endear them to us. After breakfast we will piddle in our gardens, or go horse trade old guitars and guns.

I met a man yesterday who was 98 years old. He drove himself to the Council on Aging. I’m not sure if he came to hear me sing, or if he just came out of habit because old men have routines. But he stayed and talked to me in the atmosphere that lingers after the songs are over but everyone remains quiet, intently listening. He was still sharp in his mind. That’s the kind of old man I want to be.

I met another old man that cycled 100 miles when he turned 90. A spry old sinewy man, tough as woodpecker lips-that is the kind of thing that old men say. I hope to be a fit old man. Not the kind that wears shorts so everyone has to look their old nasty bird legs. There are some things in life a man ought not have to look at.

I want to be an old man that can tell a good story. Can’t nobody tell a story like an old man. And I might start carrying around little candies to hand out at church for children in case my eyebrows scare them.

I just lost one of my favorite old men, Bro. Boney. I wasn’t expecting it, and I’m still not over it. He was one the kind of old men that shook everyone’s hand at the church. He did that with purpose. He had a way of making people feel like they belonged there. He’d been coming to Thanksgiving with my family for the past few years. He’d sing snatches of those old hymns and I’d accompany on the guitar in the corner until our wives would calm us down. One year the power went out, so we couldn’t be ignored. Everyone joined in and sang along. It was a good night.

One year he brought a BB Gun to the church while we cooked a bunch of turkey breasts for Thanksgiving. It was something that you would expect an 8 year old boy to do, but there he was, the oldest man present, plinking away at cans. I just thought that was hilarious. I kept this picture as his contact picture on my phone. I always have the hardest time deleting contacts of friends that have died.

The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness. Proverbs 16:31

Old men are a blessing, otherwise God would not have cursed the house of Eli by denying them old men.

Wherefore the Lord God of Israel saith, I said indeed that thy house, and the house of thy father, should walk before me for ever: but now the Lord saith, Be it far from me; for them that honour me I will honour, and they that despise me shall be lightly esteemed. Behold, the days come, that I will cut off thine arm, and the arm of thy father’s house, that there shall not be an old man in thine house. And thou shalt see an enemy in my habitation, in all the wealth which God shall give Israel: and there shall not be an old man in thine house for ever. And the man of thine, whom I shall not cut off from mine altar, shall be to consume thine eyes, and to grieve thine heart: and all the increase of thine house shall die in the flower of their age. I Samuel 2:30-33

I want to be the kind of old man that young men want to get next to in the prayer room before church. The kind of old man that makes children laugh. That gives good gifts. That speaks the truth in love. That cares. That loves the same woman for decades and raises godly children.

I guess the best way to be the kind of old man you want to be is to be the kind of young man you ought to be.

Some Thoughts on Truth

Resisting the truth is what keeps many conflicts alive.

While I was working my way through college I noticed a phenomenon that happened with alarming frequency. Things that I had been taught in high school as fact were now being challenged and subjected to heavy source criticism.

Post-truth: relating to or denoting circumstances in which objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief.

It was the Oxford Dictionaries word of the year in 2016.

“Never have human societies known so much…but agreed so little about what they collectively know.”
Dan Kahan, psychology and law professor

It is safe to say that we live in a post-truth society. What does this mean for the Church? As Christians we are people who are very concerned with truth and how we view truth is a matter of grave importance. This is in no way an exhaustive work, but a mere peering into mirrored surface of the profound pool of truth.

Truth can be known.

Jesus said in John 8:31 “…And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

You cannot know a lie. Neither do lies bring freedom. You can only believe a lie.

But truth is knowable. It is stable foundation that can built upon. When everything is falling apart in your life you can cling to something that you know is true.

You can know this today: There is a God who loves you.

Truth must be purchased.

While there is some truth that can be immediately transmitted into our knowledge, truth must be purchased; sought out. You have to get it for yourself, not just because some body told you.

Buy the truth, and sell it not; also wisdom, and instruction, and understanding. Proverbs 23:23

In order to be purchased, truth must be valued. You will not purchase something that you do not think is valuable. Lies can also be purchased. What people value determines the market. Truth is precious. It is rare. Lies have no value. Unfortunately, many unsuspecting-or rather undiscerning-people have been sold so many lies at immense costs.

What you value matters to God. The highest level of value is love. If you do not love truth, God will hide it from you.

II Thessalonians 2:8-12 And then shall that Wicked be revealed, whom the Lord shall consume with the spirit of his mouth, and shall destroy with the brightness of his coming: Even him, whose coming is after the working of Satan with all power and signs and lying wonders, And with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in them that perish; because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved. And for this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie: That they all might be damned who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness.

Truth Demands a Response.

Response to truth is reflected in behavior. When truth is resisted corrupt behavior is manifested.

II Timothy 3:1 This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God; Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away. For of this sort are they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women laden with sins, led away with divers lusts, Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth. Now as Jannes and Jambres withstood Moses, so do these also resist the truth: men of corrupt minds, reprobate concerning the faith.

Truth will always be resisted, and as time draws near to the end, it will be resisted more. People will always try to hide the truth, and it will be reflected in their fruit.

Truth is Liberating.

John 8:31 “…And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

With truth comes a freedom that nothing else can bring. Hiding the truth breeds fear. There is nothing to fear when you can tell the truth.

If you tell the truth, you won’t have to worry about someone else telling it.

How To Write About Grief

I have been working on this draft for almost a year. The fact is, I don’t want to write about grief. I would rather write something that will make you laugh. Laughter, as the scripture says, does good like a medicine. But I feel compelled to write about grief. And reluctance to write about it won’t make it go away anymore than ignoring makes actual grief go away. It is natural to want to avoid anything to do with grief. This is a truth: We cannot avoid the events in life that will bring us grief. Dealing with grief is part of living.

Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Matthew 5:4

Do you remember when you were a little kid and lost your parents at the grocery store because you were not paying attention? Losing your parents as an adult feels the same way except you are little embarrassed about calling out for them. That crying out is grief. I understand that everyone grieves differently. What has helped me has been writing my feelings. Maybe that can help you grieve too.

Stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.

When an event happens that triggers grief it is natural to feel these emotions, but that doesn’t change the fact that we can often feel embarrassed because we are experiencing them. After all, aren’t we adults who have everything together? Being shocked is an uncomfortable feeling. Especially for us who enjoy stability, quiet, and don’t like change. Denial can make us begin to question things we know are true. Being angry can also be humiliating because we feel like we have lost our self composure. It is where we say things like This is not fair! This is wrong! and we are further frustrated because we know what we are saying is true, but there is nothing we can do about it. Bargaining when you are unstable will usually get you a bad deal. You’ll end to doing something rash or in haste. Depression is a life sucking monster that strangles us to inaction. I’m not a licensed counselor, but I believe that one of the reasons that people end up going to counseling for grief is because they never complete the process but get hung up in one of the stages. Whenever that happens, no matter the stage, bitterness can develop.

Follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord: Looking diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby many be defiled; Lest there be any fornicator, or profane person, as Esau, who for one morsel of meat sold his birthright. Hebrews 12:14-16

Bitterness is not merely an emotion, it is a parasitic root that gets in your spirit. The things that grow out of this root can’t be dealt with on the surface. Dealing with the surface is like cutting a stubborn hedge down to the ground only to realize that you simply pruned it and now it is destined to grow back even more unruly. Bitterness is a deeply inward issue that not only troubles you, but defiles many around you.

In the case of my Dad I believe I began the grief process as soon as he received the cancer diagnosis. I was shocked and tried to deny it: Cancer was something we heard about other people getting. I was scared to death of cancer as a child. I didn’t know exactly what it was and that made it even scarier. Shock and fear are not the same. I was not afraid when I heard the news, I was paralyzed with shock. I think I walked around numb for a few days.

I don’t remember being angry, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t. And probably a big part of that is I believe in the power of prayer. I should say that although this article is about how writing about your feelings can help you through grief, it is my ardent conviction that prayer works far better. Prayer is where I did all my bargaining.

I do remember the depression stage. I didn’t want to do anything. I knew there was nothing I could do, yet I felt guilty for not doing anything and not being able to do anything. Whenever I experience depression, I eat. I think I gained 20 or 30 pounds following my Dad’s death.

I reached the acceptance stage one night before he died and while he was still coherent. That’s when I sat down and wrote this article in acceptance of his imminent death. Portrait of a Southern Gentleman, or Things I Learned From My Dad. It is a great comfort to know that he was able to read it. And he was able to brag on me a little bit, which is a source of laughter for me. I can tell you now that when I wrote that article I poured all of my emotions into those words. I cried the whole time. There was something special that happened when I was able to share those words with everyone. To know that someone else was able to experience my grief somehow made the burden lighter.

I will never forget the feeling of release when my Dad finally passed. It was as if I had been walking around carrying a couple of cross ties and somehow they just floated away.

From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher that I. Psalm 61:2

“You need someone to walk with you through the valley of the shadow of death. And when your heart is overwhelmed you will need someone to lead you to the rock, because you can’t find the way yourself.”

I did the same thing when my Mom died but she didn’t get a chance to read it, and knowing this I think allowed me to achieve a greater degree of acceptance.

Since then, I have made writing a part of my grief process. Which seems like an odd thing to say. I never thought about death as a child, but it is a steady growing part of my life now that I look more and more like Alfred and less and less like Bruce Wayne. Writing has helped me grieve the loss kids that were in my youth group-Oh Brandon!, family-Funeral Processions , Dan Theo Wells 1935-2021 , and dear friends- J.L. Parker. Not to mention countless things I have written in my journal.

So how do you write about grief? I think it is important to establish that putting your feelings and thoughts into written words while you are grieving is one of the most honest and genuine expressions of yourself. There should be no pressure to write to impress someone. This is you and your feelings. Putting those thoughts onto paper is a conscious going out of yourself. You have captured and placed in the visible an idea that has been floating around in the invisible. You have conquered that thought, and it can never escape. No one is grading you on content, grammar, or proper punctuation. And you do not have to share it with anyone. No one may ever see it. But it may help to allow a friend to help bear your burden. I know it does for me.

I still miss my parents every day. And I probably always will. I feel strong emotions every once in a while, but never denial, anger, or bargaining, only acceptance, peace, and most often sadness. If it gets bad I’ll go back and read what I wrote when it was still fresh and that helps.

I wish I could’ve talked to my Dad this week, because I am in a new process of grieving. But I already feel better having written this.

Happy Mother’s Day

Motherhood is a marvelous institution and those who matriculate there are the wonder of humanity. The school of motherhood offers no easy courses. It is a lifelong commitment to learning, and to the giving of one’s self completely. Girls start training to be mothers as soon as they can hold a baby doll.

Motherhood is the highest calling of the gentle sex. I say this knowing full well that many people will virulently disagree with me. That’s fine: those people do not really understand just how important the roll of a mother is. I challenge the thinking that the giving of life is nothing more than an inconvenient limitation to women. I can’t think of more honorable work. Work that has eternal significance.

When you are a kid you don’t really think about your mother’s life before she had you. The moment you met her she would never be the same. You only ever knew her as a mother. Because of this, you have a special intimacy with her not afforded by anyone else. You don’t have to do anything to win her confidence. She was someone you could trust immediately. When you got older you realized how selfish and needy you were as a child, and how selfless and caring she was: your alma mater.

I am at the age that I am beginning to understand what the phrase young mother means. It is really the same miracle of motherhood just from an adult’s perspective and not a child’s. These are the mothers who are barely more than girls themselves, still in the flower of youth, whose children do not realize how young their mothers actually are. You see these young mothers trying to round up their children at church, or throwing a birthday party at the park, fussing over the details like cupcakes and snacks. So much life is happening at a child’s birthday party. I’m not sure birthday parties would happen without mothers. So much youth, health, and vibrancy. You see them dragging the whole family out to take family pictures even though everyone knows that the baby won’t look at the camera and the dad is going to complain about wearing a suit in the yard. It is the mothers who know that one day in 15 years everyone will be so grateful for these frozen moments when everything was just perfect. Mother’s have foresight like that.

I think of how much love a mother has for someone they hardly know, although they know them more than anyone else. Even if a child is as ugly as homemade soap, and mean as a striped lizard, a mother will love it. It is a good thing too, because we all need love. And today we celebrate that love.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Rich People Things

Rich people sometimes have the dog on the Christmas Card. That’s another one of the things that they have in common with rednecks.

What would you do if you were rich? I mean so rich that you could eat slow food anytime you wanted. If I were rich and famous I’d only drink ice cold Topo-Chico in glass bottles. I’d wear a brand new pair of socks to church every service. Rich people can do things like that. I’d probably get a gold tooth too. Not right in the front, but off to the side where you could still see it but only when I smiled. That’s so I could stay modest. I would smile a lot though. And have a pair of crocodile skin cowboy boots. I’d drive a big old Cadillac with a pair of longhorns on the front.

I sometimes struggle to know if people are rich or not. Not that it is really any of my business, but I wonder just the same. I often get rich people and rednecks confused. For instance rich people and rednecks both have lots of cars. But rich people will have a garage, and the rednecks just park their cars all over the yard. And the rich people cars all run.

I met some rich people that had a swimming pool in the ground with a fence and everything. That’s how I knew in my eight year old mind that they were rich. But rednecks sometimes have swimming pools too, but its usually in the front yard. Or in the backyard surrounded by all the cars with busted windows and engines that don’t start.

Rich people sometimes have the dog on the Christmas Card. That’s another one of the many things that they have in common with rednecks. The dog might have a different name though, like Beaumont, or Charlemagne. That’s a rich people dog name. Sassy is a redneck dog name. Also, rich people sometimes take their dog to the vet for no reason.

“The clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.”
Mark Twain

Rich people and rednecks both like to go to the beach. When they don’t have a lot of clothes on its hard to tell them apart. I am neither rich nor a redneck so I don’t go to the beach that often. Which means I don’t have any tips for telling them apart at the beach. Wesley said that Rich people “Have a big ole tent, or something, and nice chairs. And a condo. At the beach.” He’s been to the beach a lot more than I have. I didn’t ask him about rednecks at the beach.

Some other ways to spot rich people is to go to the local airport. Not the big commercial airport at the closest big city, but the little rinky-dink municipal airport. The people who own airplanes are rich. Rednecks don’t typically have airplanes. I think I’d have me an airplane if I was rich. I’d paint teeth and eyeballs on the nose like they did back in WWII. I’d get a leather jacket and a big long white scarf for flying.

All the happiness in the world can’t buy you money.”

I would like to be rich, but I don’t really want to quit shopping at thrift stores. So I don’t really want to be filthy rich, just regular rich. If I came into money real sudden like, I think I would keep shopping at thrift stores so I could keep my cover since it is sometimes hard to tell rich people from rednecks anyway. Even if I was rich, people would see me at the thrift store and think, “He ain’t rich. He’s just another redneck.” It would also help me practice modesty. I wouldn’t smile when I went in there.

When I recall my biggest life decisions, money has not been the principle influence. For instance, having children is not necessarily a wise financial decision. But you don’t really worry about money when you decide to have a child. There is a stronger force than money at play. Moving without a job is not a wise financial decision. But money doesn’t get to make all of the decisions for me. This is probably why I am not a rich man. Money is not the only currency in life. I just read the book Creative Confidence by Tom and David Kelley and I really liked an illustration that the authors often use when making decisions. A see-saw, or balance, with a heart on one side and a dollar sign on the other. To paraphrase the author, the money is almost always easier to measure, the heart-the unquantifiable values, relationships, sense of calling, principles, and intuition- takes a little more time. The message is clear, money is not the only thing that should be considered when making decisions.

This blog for example; the motivation to write does not come from money. Or extrinsic motivation as I learned in college. There is another, stronger source of intrinsic motivation that compels me to write. It is the desire to connect on an unseen level with a reader. The urge to communicate an idea that will provoke deep personal insight in hopes that they can see themselves more clearly. There is the need of going out of one’s self that motivates me to write. This is not to say that I couldn’t be motivated by money to write. I have written on commission and gratefully cashed the check. But if I am honest with myself, I have never felt that any of my best efforts have come from being given an assignment. I have felt this way since a child in art class. I suppose that all creative people wrestle with the tension between creating what they want and getting paid to create what someone else wants. There is also the question of does anyone else want what I want to create? That can only be answered after the thing is created.

On my wedding day my father-in-law gave me some of the best advice I ever received about money. “Don’t ever fight about money.” At the time it was almost like saying, “Don’t fight about nothing.” This is a principle that my wife and I still share in our personal finances.

Money has always been a chore to me. I am getting better at doing chores the older I get. I have some friends that look at money differently than I do. And I am trying to learn from them. They can’t help but make money. Its fun to them. It is not a chore at all, but something that just comes natural. At the same time, they seemed to not be controlled by it. I have observed other people, extremely wealthy people-filthy rich people-be destitute when it comes to personal relationships. Billionaires who are vicious about money yet who are in poverty when it come to love. Cold blooded killers to quote a friend who has met more of them than me. When I take a closer look at their lives, it is pretty clear that these people do not have the same values as me.

Faith, and not money, is the currency of God’s economy.

II Timothy 6:6 But godliness with contentment is great gain. 7 For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. 8 And having food and raiment let us be therewith content. 9 But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.

But they that will be rich. I am reminded of Rudyard Kipling’s The Man Who Would Be King. I won’t spoil it for you, but if you have read it then you know what I’m talking about. I’m also reminded of someone else that said I will be like the most High. What you commit your will to has profound consequences.

I am less concerned with being rich and more focused on doing something in life that matters. Furthermore, I think it is more important to God that what I do with my life matters. Fortunately God delights in blessing his children and this includes, but is not limited to, financial blessings. With this in mind, If I were regular rich I doubt I would drink more Topo-Chico than I do now. I would take care of quite a few church projects though.