I'll Be Somewhere Listening

Long before the sun rose this morning and before I awakened, I heard someone call my name. I quickly opened my eyes and scanned the room to see who called me. It sounded like a female’s voice, like momma’s voice, or like my wife Lisa’s. I listened intently but there was nothing stirring in the predawn hour.

I, like most of you, do not remember the first time I heard someone call my name. I do remember that momma called my name more than anyone. Momma yelled my name several times a day. The first dozen or so times she would holler BOBBY. She would proceed to BOBBY EARL and when she meant business it was my full name BOBBY EARL HOPPER. That was not good. It followed with a physical reprimand and at times “I’m going to tell your daddy when he gets home.”

When my sister came along momma yelled Bobby even more especially when my sister learned to talk and the fine art of tattle telling. When two more brothers entered the family I did not get yelled at as much but still received my fair share. They did not inherit the fine art of tattle telling as did our sister. Interestingly more family members meant more to call my name.

In grammar school, teachers called my name in roll call and sometimes answered questions about the class assignments. I did not enjoy my name being called by the teacher to answer questions. I learned if I raised my hand quickly, the teacher would not call on me.

That little trick worked wonders in the fourth-grade speed reading class. I do not always understand what I read, but raising my hand quickly the teacher thought I understood what I read. This allowed me to be one of the top readers.

In the eighth grade, Mrs. Ekblad called the roll three times. The first time was for attendance. The second time was after a spelling test. We would swap test papers with another student after the test. Two students ahead of me were Charles and Judy Ellison. They always answered their names with, “I did’t miss any.” When Mrs. Ekblad called my name I say, “I didn’t miss many.” The third time she called the roll was for an English test. One again when she called my name I repeated, “I didn’t miss many.”

Playing high school football when the announcer introduced the starting lineup it was good to hear him call my name. It was fun to hear the crowd holler my name especially on defense when I made the tackle.

Having my name called to come to the office was not always good. Having homeroom teacher Mrs. Betty Giles call my name after I retrieved a record player and playing the hit song Why Do You Bill Me Up Buttercup Baby by The Foundations got my right buttock burning. I thought she was playing but when she made bend over and grab my ankles as she pulled my blue jeans tight, the paddling burned and I could not sit on my right buttock the rest of the day. My Life Lisa loves to send me that song via text messaging. My buttock burns ever time I hear it.

When I attended New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, I took Greek. Dr. R. E. Glaze was the professor. I made a C in the first class and a B in the second one. After a test in the third-class Dr. Glaze would say, “There were three F’s” and call out the student's names. I responded to a preacher friend saying I’m one of the F’s. I was not.

Then he said, “There were four D’s.” I told my preacher friend, I made a D. I didn’t but my preacher friend did. Next, she said there were more C’s than any other score. I smiled and told my preacher friend I made a C. I did not. Next were the B’s and my name was not called. Then I panicked and said, “I forgot to sign my stupid test paper.” Yes, I’ve done it before.

Finally, Dr. Glaze said, “There were the A’s.” I was the middle A. My preacher friend said, “Hopper, I hate you for talking me into taking this stupid Greek class.”

 "Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son; and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ” Galatians 4:7 KJV

An old hymn, I’ll Be Somewhere Listening has these words:

When my Savior calls I will answer

When He calls for me I will be there

When my Savior calls I will answer

I'll be somewhere listening for my name

 

Rain

The other day I heard thunder, I felt pain relief and I could smell the coming of a summer rain as the sky darkened, the wind blew, and the earth readied for the precious droplets. Swinging on the back porch swing, I bowed my head and thanked the Lord for the gentle rain that made rhythmic music on the metal roof.

I often commune with the Lord on the back porch as the morning ushers a new day. It is my place to pray and listen for God’s voice heard in the sounds of birds, the wind, the chimes, and miscellaneous noises of overhead planes, passing vehicles, and creaking porch.

The serenity of falling rain rejuvenates. I love the rain, especially at night riding around in my old pickup truck listening to the purr of the exhaust, watching the metronomic movement of the windshield wipers, and the comfort and relaxation of the old seat. It is romantic and gratifying.

Several Lord’s days back some folks were complaining about the Sunday morning rain. I was thankful since a few weeks prior the state of Alabama was under a drought warning, no burning, and crops beginning to wilt. Unthankful in God’s house.

Springs, creeks, rivers, ponds, and lakes were low for months. Hay fields, gardens, and yards were scorched. Trees were dying reminding us of times of drought in the Bible. I had rather see rain than watch the earth wither away.

I know that rain for some folks causes depression. In movies rain is a motif that happens at funerals, denotes personal sadness, and creates chaos. It is about perspective. Momma would allow us to play in the rain as long as there was no lightning. Water filled ditches were fun. Playing in the mud was adventurous. It meant no working in the garden nor cutting grass. It was like a holiday.

When I worked at the cement plant there was no such thing as rain halting work. It actually created more work. Coal, lime, and other materials did not flow. Certain areas needed sump pumps to stop flooding. Auxiliary engines had to be started in case of power outages. Rain created chaos.

Working while building bridges was just the opposite. When rain was in the forecast workers would draw a large circle in the dirt. When three drops of rain fell in the circle, someone would yell, “Get the tools up boys.” Mud and water are enemies of construction and robbers of paydays.

I love to write on rainy days. Rain can be inspirational while lack of rain is depressing for me.

Rain in abundance or in lacking is a motif in twenty-seven books of the Bible where God interacts with creation and humanity. The first rain mentioned in the Bible is the deluge in Genesis where it rained for forty days and night. That was a lot of water that surrounded the earth. I am sure that Ms. Noah got depressed with all the rain and cooped up with seven other people and an abundance of animals and such.

In the end, God gave a rainbow. I have seen several rainbows, and a couple of double ones, this year. It is a reminder of God’s promise.

 

Then I will give you rain in due season, and the land shall yield her increase, and the trees of the field shall yield their fruit. Leviticus 26:4 KJV

 

Nevertheless he left not himself without witness, in that he did good, and gave us rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and gladness. Acts 14:17 KJV

Leaving the House of Worship on that rainy Lord’s Day I told Lisa that the same people that were upset that it rained will be the same ones upset when it is dry. I am glad God controls the weather.

Thank you for taking time to read God's Front Porch. The articles are weekly and I pray they are inspirational. Please share.

Up On the Roof

Several years ago, I had to replace the roofing shingles on our house. My good friend Keilan Gore said that he and I could do the work. Both of us worked at the Blue Circle Cement Plant and on our off days we torn off the old shingles and replaced them. We carried shovels, hammers, straight hoes, and flat pitch forks on the roof to remove the old shingles.

My oldest son Andy, around seventeen years old, worked on the ground picking up the old shingles since he was afraid of heights. His job was important and greatly appreciated.

My youngest son Aaron was around five years old he begged to get on the roof with Keilan and me. Never giving up with his plea Keilan said, “Hopper let that boy come on the roof.” I took my safety belt wrapped it around him, placed him near the peak of the roof, and nailed the safety line to the roof. His tenacity was unbelievable. I cherish the thought of my boys helping that day.

I have spent a lot of time on roofs. One time the roof over the overhead crane at the cement plant was six inches deep in cement, lime, and coal dust which had hardened over the years. Several of us were deployed with small jack hammers, number two shovels, and wheelbarrows to remove the sediment.

The roof was around seventy-five feet high and had a slight pitch requiring safety belts and ropes which we clamped to a cable running the length of roof. Co-worker Billy Tillery took a small jackhammer and started breaking the sediment. Before he started, he pulled his safety rope to insure he would not fall from the roof. When he tugged it, one of the braces holding the cable broke one the weld that held it to the roof.

We had to wait until a welder did what we call “lick the calf” again. After he rewelded the brace we went back to work. Co-ordinating our efforts we started removing the broken pieces by dumping them over the side of the roof. The updraft beside the building blew the dust back into our faces.

With jackhammers pounding, shovels filling wheelbarrows, and the dumping work went well until Billy stopped his jackhammer and began waving us back to the top of the roof. Removing our ear protection Billy yelled, “Y’all get back.” His jackhammer went through the roof.

Through years of deposit and deterioration caused by the chemicals in the dust, the tin roof was thin as a screen door. Safety personnel removed us from the roof and contractors removed what was left of the roof and replaced it with new metal roofing.

Our Sunday school was: And again he entered into Capernaum after some days; and it was noised that he was in the house. And straightway many were gathered together, insomuch that there was no room to receive them, no, not so much as about the door: and he preached the word unto them. And they come unto him, bringing one sick of the palsy, which was borne of four. And when they could not come nigh unto him for the press, they uncovered the roof where he was: and when they had broken it up, they let down the bed wherein the sick of the palsy lay. When Jesus saw their faith, he said unto the sick of the palsy, Son, thy sins be forgiven thee Mark 2:1-5 KJV

 

The focus of the lesson was that Jesus healed a paralytic (παραλυτικός) man. The Bible included how the four friends uncovered the roof lowering the man where Jesus was healing folks. The home belonged to Peter. The account of uncovering the roof is important, not as significant as the man being healed spiritually and physically but included for a reason.

Some of my classmates felt that the uncovering the roof was irrelevant, but I think is demonstrates the faith of friends of the paralytic.

Having worked on many roofs it took some effort to remove tiles to create a hole large enough to lower a man on a bed, mat, or pallet (κράβαττος means mattress). Their faith was strong enough that they were creative in getting their friend an audience with Jesus. They were cooperative exemplifying teamwork. They were coordinated in getting their friend on the roof, removing the tiles, and lowering him down. They were not concerned with recognition just urgent for their friend to see and experience the power of Jesus.

I learned a long time ago that helping people in need is the ministry of inconvenience. I am sure that the four men replaced Peter’s roof.

Heart and Soul

I will never forget the first time I met Pam Gibbs. I was preaching revival at Providence Baptist Church in Gallion, Alabama. Allen Patterson introduced me to her stating that Pam made the best cakes. Usually Allen bragged when he wanted something. He had “the look” when wanting something for nothing however I found Pam to be a very good cook, especially cakes. She had a secret making very moist cakes.

Later that year Gallion Baptist church called me as pastor. Gallion Baptist was near the Hale/Marengo County line seven miles north of the Providence. Providence was a member of the Bethel Baptist Association in Lindon, Alabama while Gallion was member in the Hale Baptist Association near Moundville. Gallion was closer to the Bethel office.

Since I pastored on the county line, Allen invited me to attend their monthly pastors’ conferences. Hale Association did not have them. Pam was the associational secretary. Director of Missions Gene Walley and Virginia his wife were cooking beignets the first time I attended. Since Pam and I were acquainted, she introduced me to them.

For the next three years I became a regular at the meeting enjoying the southern hospitality and country cooking of Pam. Brother Walley decided to retire, and I asked Pam if she had received many resumes. She said she had a few and asked me if I had thought about summitting one. I prayed and gave her one. I was one of thirty that applied and I was selected to number one.

I fulfilled the search committee’s requirements, and the Association called me as Director of Missions in June 2003. I served with four different associations on several different levels but never as director. I remember asking Pam to help me become a director of missions. For the next fifteen years Pam helped me. She and I made a great team, and we assembled a great team. The Alabama State Board of Missions recognized Bethel as one of its best associations.

Pam was a great hostess for all of our events. She told me she did not want to be in the limelight. I represented the association, but Pam was the heart and soul of the Bethel Baptist. She did all the planning, the work, and I got the recognition. My second year with her Samford University selected me as Director of Missons Town and Country 2005.

Pam and I had a wonderful working relationship. I was her troubleshooter. She had equipment issues that I solved for her. One time the office printer failed to function after a paper reload. Pam asked me to lay my hand on it. She told me what she did. I noticed the door where she reloaded the paper was not shut completely. I closed it laid my hand on it, mumbled something, and told her to try it. It worked. After a laugh I told her what I did.

Another time she had a computer printer that would not print then for no reason it would print. After buying another printer I discovered that the problem was that when she commanded the printer to print she did not designate how she wanted it printed. It was a wireless printer and sometimes when she went wireless the printer had been waiting for long periods of time for the command. She and I wrestled with technological demons for fifteen years.

Pam and I had many talks, lots of laughter, and serious conversations. That is one of the things I miss most. She would tell me that I was like an older brother that she could confide in and say anything. When you spend time with someone you have a special bond.

Pam made Bethel Baptist Association function. She was a wonderful planner, talented decorator, and delicious chef. Her giftedness was her ability to prepare food. She was a culinary wizard. Every event had a theme and menu to match. She continues to cook all kinds of cakes for various occasions. So much of her work and dedication were taken for granted. I knew that the success of the association was she was living her God given calling and I was able to share that time with her. We helped each other.

She did not enjoy being honored and I would surprise her with every chance I had. She deserved it. I wished I could have honored more. She was a great inspiration for me. She produced bi-monthly informational page in The Alabama Baptist. One time she did not have enough information and asked if I could write a paragraph. This started me authoring articles which became a hit for the Association.

When my days were numbered at the Bethel Baptist Association, Pam wanted me to end with dignity and pride. I told her I wanted to “ride off into the sunset.” Pam, along with Virginia Seales and Nell Dunaway, planned a very big retirement party for me. It was tremendous. Pam, it was the best event you had while you and I were together. I will never forget that when things were bad and I needed support you were there. When people were critical and sinical about my tenure, you undergirded me and held me high. Thanks for your support.

There were so many good times. I wish that the Association had held a better retirement for you. I felt as though you were not honored. You deserved better. I know that you and I served during the greatest of times for the Bethel Baptist Association. Jesus says it best: His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord. Matthew 25:21 KJV

Pam and Wayne, you were an important part of my life and ministry. There have been weddings, funerals, anniversaries, birthdays, and many more events that have drawn us together. Though distance separates us, you are always in my thoughts. I know that y’all are enjoying retirement and great-grandchildren keeps enlarging your family. Pam, thanks for the memories my dear friend and co-laborer.