A colleague once told me that someone who had known me practically my entire life (a person I had considered a life icon) made a statement to the effect that I had forgotten where I came from. This was purportedly because I would neither heed to nor seek this person’s advice at work. May I respectfully disagree.

Picture it—church on Sunday morning. The pastor has delivered the points of his message, and the congregation has responded in many ways. Some follow the pastor’s every word, focusing on him intently.

There are others, however, that rarely if ever focus on the Sunday morning sermon. What is going through these people’s minds?

I once attended a service at Loveland Baptist Church when Rev. Oliver Wolfenbarger was pastor. He rose to preach and announced his text. It was the same text he had used the previous Sunday.

Preacher Wolfenbarger said, “I know what you’re thinking—poor ol’ Wolfenbarger’s losing it. He don’t remember that he preached on these same verses last week. I just want you to know, that I know I preached this last week, but I didn’t get finished. What’s more, I’m just as crazy as you think I am.”

I was saddened to learn just last week of the passing of a colleague from my first eight years teaching at Luttrell Elementary School. I have throughout the years had many colleagues, most of which were just acquaintances, but a few who became treasured friends.

Picture it—I’m sitting in my living room in my usual spot on the loveseat. It’s the evening of the day of my latest medical procedure. I was not able to eat solid food for one full day before the procedure, so I am indulging in a delicious supper of fried egg and bacon sandwiches that my wife prepared especially for me.

I can remember a time when all my meals were eaten at the kitchen table with my mother and father. At that time it would have been unthinkable to eat a meal in the living room in front of the television. A snack, maybe, but never a meal.

I was on my way to work last week. I was listening to the late minister Adrian Rogers on Christian radio station BBC. Like many engaging preachers, Pastor Rogers possessed a drawing voice filled with conviction. One of the main things I like about him is his sense of humor—not foolish, but thought provoking.
In the course of his sermon, Pastor Rogers stated that it was not possible to think of two things at the same time. This gave me pause for thought.

When my only half-brother on my mother’s side passed away, he told his wife he wanted me to have his books. I received quite a few, but there was one in particular that his last spouse favored and made sure to keep for herself. I hope that book has brought her much peace and joy throughout the almost ensuing decade following his departure. It is not I who will go to the grave knowing I failed to fill one of my dying spouse’s last wishes, and I certainly don’t miss what I never had.

I read a post on Facebook a few days ago that brought me a moment’s pause. Someone wrote that s/he never imagined ever entering a bank wearing a mask and asking for money.
Have you ever thought that if someone had predicted your future and told you certain things that you would have imagined yourself to be in a completely different place and circumstance than you presently find yourself?

Two weeks ago I left three fictitious youngsters in the hayloft of Uncle Ex Newman’s barn as they laid out of school— Clark Mosely, his older brother Hen, and their still older cousin Jay Harvey Tatum. Three youngsters alone in a barn can be a scary situation for those not in the barn, I’m sure. I promise to join them in their misadventures once again soon, but inspiration has taken me on another path for this week.

John Clark Mosely and his one-and-a-half-year-old brother Bobby Henry set out with their cousin Jay Harvey Tatum to find their father Fletch Mosely. If truth be told, Hen hoped they didn’t find him. Hen figured Fletch would beat the sap out of them for laying out of school. “Maybe,” Hen hoped, “he won’t even know it’s a school day.” Daddy never had been much for school when he was little—he only went to (not through) the second grade, and he hadn’t been around home enough lately to know much about what was going on. Hen would never have let either his little brother or older cousin know that he was scared of his daddy, but he for “dang-shore” was!