Where Are You?

I do not remember ever being lost, physically I mean.  There were several times I did not know where I was.  Heck, one time after working mid-nights, I couldn't remember who I was.  Now, that was scary, but that is for another article.

I remember the eerie feeling of not knowing where I was, even though I could see the lights at my house and those of my grandmother and aunts’ houses.  Here’s how it happened.  My good friend Tony, his dad, and his brother wanted to go “coon huntin’” in the woods behind my house.  It is ideal coon huntin’ woods with swampy conditions and Possum branch as the main tributary.  Sure enough, we weren’t in the woods no time when the dogs treed a coon.  The problem was we never saw one, even though the coon “dawgs” were barking, howling, and carrying on something fierce.  That’s part of  the lure of coon hunting, or so I was told.

I remember walking around the tree and looking in the top at the same time.  I realized later that that is a sure fire no no.  After a keen search for a coon by my experienced friends, they decided to go down the branch.  A bass pond lay at the mouth of Possum branch and I started what I thought was down the branch, away from the pond.  One of my friends said that he wanted to go down the branch, not to the pond.

Well, the “dawg gonest” thing happened.  Yeah, I know that this is not standard American English, but I’m trying to recall it like it wuz, I mean was.  Possum branch was running the wrong way.  Somehow, in the looking up and walking around the tree, I crossed the branch.  I was turned around, and for a moment, I thought I had entered a spectrum of time known as The Twilight Zone.  I never let on to my friends.  You know all the ridicule and such I would have received if they knew that I was turned around in my own backyard!  It was so weird, hard to explain.  I knew I was not lost, I knew where I was, only turned around.

A person being turned around was nothing new to the community of Bessie, the community I call home.  My place is called Sugar Ridge, which is in Bessie, which is part of the area called Mars Hill.  No, Paul did not preach there.  Mars Hill is across the railroad tracks from Jemison which is sorta, that is Chiltonian for sort of, like being from the wrong side of the tracks and having no signs to tell you where you are. 

I grew up knowing where I lived without the help of signs.  We did have Land Mart, not a landmark even though it was a Land Mart and was a landmark, which is a store in Bessie where two highways cross.  People were constantly asking, “Which way to Jemison, which way to Maplesville, Thorsby, Randolph, or Montevallo?”  Some would even ask, “Where are we?”

That brings me to the inspiration of this article.  Enroute home from Betsy Layne, Kentucky after a wonderful time with Baptist Builders, some friends and I searched for a place to eat.  We departed the motel after a delicious breakfast of bagels and cream cheese.  It was to hold us until we could get a real breakfast.

We descended from the wonderful cool and pleasant mountains of Kentucky to the hot and humid hills and post oak of Linden, Alabama. 

Down the mountains of Kentucky and through Virginia, we looked for a Krystals.  There were none. My companions reminded me they were hungry but there were no Krystals.  One lady companion finally said, “I need to eat!” We suggested a Ruby Tuesdays.  Being we were using a high-tech gadget called a GPS, I asked the nice lady in the GPS, you know the one always telling you, “When possible please make a U-turn” to find one.  If you ignore her long enough, she will change her directions to where you wanted to go anyway because you got there without signs for years.

The nice lady directed us off the Interstate and to a strip mall with a Wal Mart and several restaurants, one being a Ruby Tuesdays.  Across the highway was a college. A hostess greeted us, took us to a table, gave us a menu, and said someone would take our order.  A young man appeared at out table, told us his name, took our order for drinks, and went to get them.  One of my friends noticed a woman who appeared to be logging in orders from customers.  She asked her, “Where are we?”

The woman had a bewildered look and said real plain and slowly, “R U B Y  T U E S D A YS.”

I belly laughed, my companions chuckled, and the lady snickered, trying to hide it with her hands.

My friend was not specific with her question, so she said, “I mean, what town are we in?”

We were in Morristown, Tennessee the home of Davy Crockett.  You know Davy Crockett went to Washington to serve in Congress and to Alamo in San Antonio, Texas without signs. 

We had a good laugh, good food, and a good mission trip.  The sad thing is most people do not know where they are in life’s journey.  This time I mean spiritually.  Take old Adam for instance.  When Eve and he disobeyed, God asked Adam where he was.  Now remember, God knew where Adam was.  God was trying to see if Adam knew where he himself was.

And the Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where art thou? (Genesis 3:9 KJV)

Where are you in life’s journey?

We knew where we were, but we did not know where was.

Cost of Freedom

You and I live in a time when TV commercials receive higher ratings than regular programming.  Vendors and Madison Avenue Marketing compete for airtime during the Super Bowl.  The network that carries the Super Bowl charges an unbelievable $2.6 million for a 30-second ad slot.  Our government paid $2.5 million dollars for the 2010 census ad.  The bottom line is the record number of viewers for the Super Bowl.

The commercials can be funny.  A Snickers ad that shows Betty White being tackled is funny and continues to be a hit.  Budweiser beer usually has some very humorous ads.  They have enough money in their coffers to do so to make them funny.

One night several years ago as my son Aaron and I were watching TV, Budweiser aired an ad for the Fourth of July.  The ad shows Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and other men of that era at a backyard barbecue.  It tries to be humorous, but it was offensive.  It shows our founding fathers as bumbling idiots drinking beer and partying, something typical of today.  Ben Franklin’s character accidentally tilts a cannon creating fireworks when it discharges.  They say that we should do this celebration every July 4.  Aaron commented on how disrespectful the commercial was about our founding fathers and the signing of the Declaration of Independence. 

The men that signed the Declaration of Independence did so at great cost.  Some lost their fortunes, some lost their property, and some lost their lives for signing their names on that document.  A document and freedom we make frivolous today as evidenced in the Budweiser commercial and actions of many citizens.

Snickers went through a fiasco a few years back when they aired a commercial that was considered inappropriate by many viewers.  They withdrew the ad, as have many other brand name products when there was public outcry against them.

We live in a nation where public outcry is changing.  Isaiah reminds us, “Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!”  We see that unfolding before our eyes.  We have a tendency to forget.  Most people do not like history, but without knowing where we have been, we might have the tendency to repeat our past mistakes.

How did my young son determine that the beer commercial was disrespectful?  Many his age would have never considered that thought.  I would like to think that it is because I have tried to teach him the real meaning of the Fourth of July and the great sacrifice that our forefathers paid for us to enjoy a grand holiday.

I think that it is important to tell our children about real people and kinfolk that have gallantly served our nation to preserve our great freedoms.  Millions are enjoying the fruit of the work of those gone before us.

The Bible tells the story of Moses and the Exodus over and over.  Spanning centuries, the Exodus and God’s love for the nation of Israel in caring for them until they entered the promise land is as one of my professors put it, “a watershed event in history.”

When the nation of Israel would forget and stray, God, or His representative, would remind them of the great cost and victory of the Exodus.

When we make frivolous those events of great sacrifice and great significance, there needs to be condemnation.  Freedom comes at great expense.  Once, an old friend and I were discussing Salvation.  She enjoyed needling me, especially about me being a Southern Baptist.  She was bragging about her salvation not costing anything.  I reminded her that it might not have cost her, but the cost of our salvation bankrupted heaven.  It cost God everything.

Could it be that we are not teaching our children about the cost of our freedom?  Are we profaning the sacred?  When do we draw the line with humor?  Will our freedom without remembrance keep us free?  I think the Psalmist says it best.

Give ear, O my people, to my law: incline your ears to the words of my mouth.  I will open my mouth in a parable: I will utter dark sayings of old:  Which we have heard and known, and our fathers have told us.  We will not hide them from their children, shewing to the generation to come the praises of the Lord, and his strength, and his wonderful works that he hath done. For he established a testimony in Jacob, and appointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers, that they should make them known to their children: That the generation to come might know them, even the children which should be born; who should arise and declare them to their children:  That they might set their hope in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments:  And might not be as their fathers, a stubborn and rebellious generation; a generation that set not their heart aright, and whose spirit was not steadfast with God (Psalm 78: 1-8 KJV).