My Friend Ray

When I received a call about Ray, an old friend, dying in the hospital, I immediately went to see him.  While in route to Shelby Baptist Hospital, my mind raced with all kinds of scenarios concerning his demise.  I had not heard from Ray in a while.  You, as well as I, sometimes let valuable time slip away without talking with old friends.  You do not mean for it to happen, but it does.  We get busy and time flies.

Ray and I made friends when his wife, Jodi, and he started attending my home church.  We were the same age and our children were the same age.  Jodi was a childhood friend of mine.  Ray accepted Christ as his savior because of a revival that started with a study of the Book of Revelation.  Brother Cecil Swell, pastor of West End Baptist Church in Clanton led the study.  I wish I had his notes because it was a wonderful study.

Someone had invited Ray’s brother-in-law and Jodi’s brother, Bobby, to the study.  When Bobby heard the teaching of Brother Cecil, he was scared to death.  Bobby was one of those guys that was scared into the kingdom of God. 

Because of Bobby’s salvation, most of his family became Christians.  It was reminiscent of the Philippian jailer in the Book of Acts were the jailer and his whole family were saved and baptized.  Ray was one of Bobby’s family members, but the range of Revelation spread well beyond Bobby’s extended family.

Ray was eager to hear, study, and learn God’s Word.  I remember spending hours in Bible study with Jodi and him.  Our friendship grew as he grew in the Lord.  He lived nearby so we jogged together; lifted weights together, ate meals together, and visited together.

I never will forget a Thursday night visitation.  Ray and Gary (Scooby) went on visitation with me.  Ray witnessed Scooby as they worked together, and Scooby became a believer.  Both of them were what we term “on fire” for the Lord and they could not wait to share their new faith.

I led them to the house of a fellow that we all knew.  I had been there for several visitations but had no luck.  I thought that these “new boys” might have a great influence knowing that they used to drink together.  When our acquaintance opened the door, he started cussing, ripping, and tearing into us.  I knew he meant no harm, but Ray and Scooby ran as if they met the boogieman.  Suddenly, I found myself all alone.  Our friend had been snorting a few ounces of alcohol, so I said I would come back later and went to retrieve my two new converts who were hiding behind a car.  I reminded them that they were like that at one time.

This was before I surrendered the call into the ministry.  I firmly believed that Scooby and Ray were being called into the ministry, not me.  They had wonderful testimonies and were growing spiritually by leaps and bounds.  I could see God at work in their lives.  Even their wives expressed that they did not know if they could be “preacher wives.” 

I did become a deacon and I realized later that I was the one being called into full time ministry.  Scooby later became our Sunday School director and Ray became a deacon.

Ray eagerly learned and understood the ministry of being a deacon.

Ray and Jodi’s marriage had started on shaky ground having divorced and remarrying about the time of their salvation.  Their commitment to the Lord temporary healed a strained relationship.

As time slipped away, about ten years, the pressure of marriage, kids, and ministry increased.  Ray and Jodi separated a second time.  Ray volunteered to resign as deacon.

With the divorce final, Jodi married another man and Ray started drinking and slowly slipped back into his old ways.  He dated a younger woman, and she became pregnant.  Ray unfortunately chose alcohol for relief and overdosed trying to escape.  With no one to help him, Jodi, with the encouragement of her new husband, stood by Ray’s side in the hospital until he died.  Jodi is the one who called me thinking I could encourage Ray.

Jodi met me and gave me the bad news that he would not live very long.  I will never forget the look in Ray’s eyes as I tried to communicate with him.  He acknowledged me with a penetrating stare from his lifeless body.  He was dying with alcoholic chronic pancreatitis or alcohol poising.  His body could not digest the excessive overdose of alcohol.

I spent as much time allowed by the hospital that afternoon with Ray and Jodi.  Jodi lost the father of her children, and I lost a dear brother in Christ.  There was some much that Ray and I needed to catch up on.  I do not know how much Ray comprehended, but one last time our eyes focused on each other as I told him I loved him.  I thank God for having known Ray and regret I could not help him.

It has been almost thirty years since Ray died the way he did and I have been asked, “Do you think Ray was saved?”  I know he was, but he lost his vision and gave up.  Eugene Peterson expresses it in The Message, “If people can’t see what God is doing, they stumble all over themselves; but when they attend to what God reveals; they are most blessed.”

The King James Version says, “Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth the law, happy is he” (Proverbs 29:18).

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.