"Turn Your Lights On"

 Several years ago, I attended an Alumni Officer Meeting at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary.  It was a three-day event to train State officers how to host an alumni meeting and how to solicit money from poor alumni, mostly ministers.

I found out that there are donors with lots of money that want to donate to our Southern Baptist Seminaries.  They give according to the number of alumni that give.  These donors reason that if alumni do not give to their alma maters, then why should they.

As an Alabama Baptist State Alumni officer, I supported the seminary by giving ten dollars for each year after graduating.  I encourage all alumni to give at least ten dollars.  The large donors do not look of the amount of each alumnus, but the number that give.  If you are a New Orleans alum, consider that ten-dollar donation.

One of the benefits of attending the meeting was the food.  The first night the Seminary hosted a crawfish boil.  There were two canoes filled with boiled crawfish, corn, and potatoes.  I am not a big fan of boiled “mud bugs,” but I do like their tails fried.  Being a big man, the servers thought I needed a large serving.  I gave them to a couple of my fellow alumni.  I did have a generous portion of corn and potatoes.  The warm brownie was pretty good too.

I ate at the seminary cafeteria for breakfast and dinner.  The second night the seminary took us to the French Quarters to eat.  Alan and Tony from Florida, Marco from Arkansas, and I went to Deenie’s.  Did I say that we walked the streets of New Orleans guided by a GPS?  I thought we would never get to Deenie’s.  It was fun trying to keep up with those technological advanced guys.  It was trying to rain and turning dark as we entered the restaurant.

I was hoping for some fried crawfish tails, but I settled for a generous portion of fried shrimp, catfish, and French fries.  I had the best time listening to these “music” guys argue over the validity of Contemporary verses Traditional.  I made the comment that Contemporary has been around so long that it has become the new traditional and that the millennials had their own style.  I thought they were going to pound me with hush puppies.

When we left the restaurant, it was still trying to rain.  We were to meet other alumni at the Café de Monde around nine.  As we hurried, we were stopped by a parade, in which I took part.  I have always wanted to be in one the funeral dirges in New Orleans.  Since Alan was most familiar, we followed him.  As we neared the Café de Monde, the parade stopped us again.  I told Alan that I could have stayed in the parade and beat them.

On the way back to the seminary in a steady rain, we had a black man following us and flashing his lights.  Now, it being a bad part of New Orleans and a little rain, it is not an area that you want to be stopping.  The driver of our rental was Tony, who is Puerto Rican.  He did not see the flashing lights; hear the honking horn, and the waving hands of the adjacent driver.  Alan and Marco did and they were very uncomfortable.  Tony and I were trying to see the poorly lighted streets.  Things have changed in New Orleans since Katrina and the once familiar was now the unfamiliar.  There remains much work and rebuilding to be done.  Some Baptists wanted to pull the Seminary out of New Orleans, but Seminary president Dr. Chuck Kelly reminded the powers that be that removing the Seminary would remove the little light that remains in the city.

Suddenly, the adjacent driver got along side of Tony.  Tony rolled down his window and the guy shouted, “You’re driving with your lights off.

That explains a lot.  That is the reason Tony almost went straight instead of making the curve.  It also explains why the cars were awfully close behind us and to the right.  That explains why Tony and I could not see the road signs until being right on top of them.

When Tony turned on his lights, we could see much better.  The only problem was we were very close to the Seminary.  We started to go back and see if we could see what we missed.

I have driven several times with my headlights off.  One time the Clanton police pulled me over for driving without headlights.  When asked why, I looked down at the dash and replied to the officer, and his green teethed sidekick, that I forgot to turn them on while I turned them on.  He told me not to get smart with him.  I did not get smart with him because I didn’t think he, nor his hayseed sidekick knew smart when they heard it.  They accused me of drinking and shined their big four-D batteries flashlights in my car.  Arguing with them that I did not drink, they again accused me of getting smart.  I looked them in the eye and told them they were crazy and pulled away leaving the green-toothed hayseed waving his flashlight.

My experience in New Orleans and in Clanton reminds me of Christians today.  We are traveling life’s highway, having a good time, and enjoying one another but our lights are not on.  Sure, we can see, but others may not see us.  Thank God for people like our black friend in New Orleans that reminded us to turn our lights on.  Seems like I read that somewhere.

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven (Matthew 5:16 KJV).

Happy Birthday Momma Song

Picture of momma when she was around 16 years old. She always had her guitar. I posted a Poem on May 7, 2021 for my Momma's Birthday.  I trust that you enjoyed it and If you have not read please do.  I sent a copy of it to my brother that inherited mommas gifts most of playing musical instruments, by ear, and writing songs.  Most of our Sunday afternoons were spent sitting on the front porch and singing and playing the guitars.

below is a link to listen to my brother Glenn pick up an old guitar and sing the poem I wrote.  I love the way he arranged it to make this beautiful song for momma.

Momma I do miss your hugging and kissing.  

https://photos.app.goo.gl/F7qVJtbHAJoUyuqt6

I Want To Be A Friend Like That

Many of you have worked in, on, and around machinery.  Be it a paper mill, sewing factory, or just around the house or on the farm, running a piece of machinery can be frustrating.  There was a sign in our maintenance department that said, “If it twists, turns, or moves, it will give trouble.”

My good friend, Keilan, had a very frustrating day operating/burning a cement kiln.  Day shift at most factories is frustrating enough.  Electricians want to check instruments, maintenance men want to change out equipment, engineers want to change the process, and quality control wants to tweak the feed.

Day shift has too many people watching one another to justify changes.  Supervisors, managers, and corporate constantly walk around with pen and pad taking notes on how to improve their product not realizing that all their busyness creates havoc and chaos for operators.

Keilan was having one of those days.  To complicate the problems, reclaimers that put up the coal did so in such a manner that substance other than coal found its way into the coal tanks creating an erratic burn.  Electricians and instrument adjusting the oxygen analyzers disturbed the airflow that made the burn more erratic. 

The mixing of materials to create the feed to make cement somehow how got mish mashed creating a sub par material that the quality control declared “not up to snuff.”

It had been a hard day for my friend Keilan.  When I relieved him at the evening shift change, he looked as though he had been run through a washing machine ringer backwards.  He had the most bewildered and frustrated look until his eyes met mine.  His eyes perked up and a smile came across his face.  He ran to me, hugged me and kissed me.  That’s right he kissed me and I was shocked then he said, “I have never been so happy to see you in my whole life.  This has been the worst day of my life burning the kilns.”

Most of us forget how important it is to be a friend.  I admit that sometimes I am not a good friend.  I have had friends be sick and I never called or sent a card.  I have had friends that lost loved ones and I never expressed condolences to them.  I have had friends struggle with divorce and never visited to see if they needed help or words of encouragement.

Perhaps we have been disappointed when a friend or family member did not show for a big event in our lives.  We give the excuse that we do not know what to say.  Can I testify that it not what you say, but that you were there.

I remember visiting the hospital for a lady in the Brierfield Baptist Church community.  I was bi-vocational, so my visit was at night.  When I entered the critical care unit, the whole atmosphere of the room changed from gloom and doom to hope when my eyes met theirs.  A nurse told the family that three people were allowed to visit the sick lady.  The family chose me as one of the three.  The sick lady was close the death.  I prayed for her.  She recovered and lived many months afterwards.

I told another friend of my experience.  It was the first time I ever had that kind of life changing emotion.  I did not understand what happened.  My friend said, “Dummy, when you walked in the room they knew the Lord was with them.  You are God’s representative.”

I have been to several funerals where the family said, “I knew you would come.”  I did not have to say anything.  People say I have the gift of gab, but there are numerous times I do not know what to say.

There is a story called “In the Trenches” from World War I where soldier friends became very close due the horrors of war.  The trench war of WWI was brutal and created a common bond that helped deal with the misery.

One day the friends, Jim and Bill, charged from the trenches into battle.  At the end of the day, Jim lay bleeding to death between the trenches, his friend Bill returned to the trench.  Realizing his friend was missing, the soldier started back in the field of battle.  The shelling continued at its peak.  His commanding officer refused his request. It was too dangerous.  Ignoring the smell of cordite, the concussion of incoming shells, and a pounding in his chest, Bill made it to Jim. Bill found Jim and dragged him back to the trenches.  It was too late.  Jim was gone.

The smug commander officer cynically asked Bill if it was worth the risk.  Bill said without hesitation, “Yes sir, it was.  My friend’s last words made it more than worth it.”  He looked up at me and said, “I knew you’d come.”

I hope I can be that kind of friend, but I feel more like the disciples with Jesus at Gethsemane.

And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me: nevertheless not what I will, but what thou wilt.  And He cometh, and findeth them sleeping, and saith unto Peter, Simon, sleepest thou? couldest not thou watch one hour? Watch ye and pray, lest ye enter into temptation. The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak.  And again He went away, and prayed, and spake the same words.  And when He returned, He found them asleep again, (for their eyes were heavy,) neither wist they what to answer Him.  And He cometh the third time, and saith unto them, Sleep on now, and take your rest: it is enough, the hour is come (Mark 14:36-41 KJV).

Momma Showed Me

Mamma it has been a long, long time

Momma I miss your songs and rhyme

 

You left us so young and in your prime

Momma precious mother of mine

 

Momma you showed me Jesus was the way

Momma you taught me to read the Bible and pray

 

You showed me how to work and how to play

Momma your faith showed there is coming a better day

 

Momma you taught life was not about things

Momma you showed me it was not riches or golden rings

 

You proved that life was about home and a song to sing

Momma I miss your hugging and kissing

 

Momma you showed how to never give up and live

Momma you taught me to share and give

 

You trained me how to be innovative

Momma thank you for helping me be creative

 

Momma you wiped away my tears when I would cry

Momma you showed me how to suffer and die

 

You thought of others until you told me goodbye

Momma I know I will see by and by

Momma would be ninety today,  She died form melanoma cancer at age 55 in January 1987