Lawson writes . . . sharing thoughts and memories

Growing up, I could always anticipate having fried chicken for Sunday dinner.  My grandmother and grandfather Jolly always welcomed the family for Sunday dinner.  With the exception of Thanksgiving or Christmas, I knew there would be fried chicken.  In fact, there was a large platter of chicken.  Georgia, the cook, would kill and dress several chickens to provide for the large family that would eat.  Like many families in the south, fried chicken was synonymous with Sunday dinner after church.

There is one occasion when I had friend chicken that can never be forgotten.  I had traveled by train to Limon from San Jose, Costa Rica.  From Limon I journeyed by rail on a train going deep into the interior to transport bananas.  From my exit from the train, I then went up the river several miles in a dugout canoe.  Leaving the canoe, I walked several miles into the dense jungle.  At last I came to the home where I was to be welcomed.   When dinner time came, two other men joined us.  The four of us sat at the table while the ladies would serve us, and then eat later as was the custom.

The table was crudely made from wood and not very stable.  The floor of the home was dirt, and dogs and chickens would pass through the house.  As we were talking, the host reached down quickly and grabbed one of the chickens.  He threw it on the table, picked up his machete, and with the broad side of the machete he hit the chicken several times.  It not only killed the chicken, but broke most of the bones.  He called for his wife who picked the chicken up.  She quickly moved to the outside wood stove where upon it was a large vat of hot grease.  She dropped the chicken into the hot grease.

I suddenly realized that she did not pluck the feathers from the chicken, nor did she clean the entrails from the chicken.  As the men continued to talk, my mind was on that chicken.  This would be the truest fried chicken I had ever eaten, if I was going to eat it!  This was truly a ‘stuffed’ chicken.

It a few minutes, the chicken was removed from the vat and placed on a large wooden platter.  I looked at that natural fried chicken.  The host asked that we bow for a blessing.  He began to bless the food.  He gave thanks for all God was providing at that table.  I believe I had one eye open looking at that chicken.  I believe my thoughts were, “Thankful for that chicken?”

As must be, I would eat that chicken.  I did not want to offend my host.  I was careful to allow them to pull it apart where I could avoid the feathers.  I was relieved to see them pluck the feathers and lay them aside.  It was in the spirit of commitment to the Lord that I ate that day.  However, Judy and I had a song that we would sing to ourselves on such occasions.

“Lord, I’ll go where you want me to go.  I’ll eat what you want me to eat.  I’ll swallow it down, without a frown, but, Oh, dear Lord, you’ll have to keep it down.”

And He did!

No matter what, we are to be thankful!

“Give thanks in all circumstances for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”  (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

Lawson

Gone are the days when you could leave your doors opened – unlocked!  Days when things were safe in the yard!  Days when you simply trusted most everyone!  Yes, we live in a different world from those days!

Today, people will remove items from your porch — people will ramble through an unlocked car to see what they can find — people will change price tags on items in a store — shoplifting is a costly crime to many stores — a lost item such as a credit card will seldom be returned — and examples could be named endlessly.

Dishonesty, fraud, deception, and stealing are part of our wayward culture.  I will not try to be some social professor who would talk of the social changes and the whys!  But I will simply remind you of those days of the past!

When I think of honesty, my memory serves me well of many examples.  But perhaps the one that refreshes my spirit the most goes back to Jolly Store.  Some of you have read my blogs about the store.  I will not repeat my heritage in the store, but you can read the blogs for background. (Jolly Store – Part 1 www.lawsonjolly.com/2010/01/12;  Jolly Store – Part 2  www.lawsonjolly.com/2010/01/13)

The Jolly Store did not open until about 8 o’clock each morning.  Most folks in town were going to work prior to that and so obviously breakfast had been eaten earlier.  Often people would prepare for breakfast and discover they had no bread for toast.  Because the store had not opened by the time the bread delivery truck arrived, the delivery man would simply leave the bread in front of the door which was covered by a large awning.

The bread was not doubled stack, but each loaf could be seen in the large square wooden boxes.  The bread delivery men knew that they could claim the boxes the next morning, or as some did, on their return route in the afternoon.  Knowing the bread was in front of the store, people who needed bread would come to the store and select what items they wanted from the bread trays.

No one was around.  Those individuals could have taken all the bread they wanted and no one would have ever known.  Most of the time, there would be money in the bread tray in place of the bread.  There might be the exact change . . . or there might be more than the cost of the loaf of bread.  Sometimes there was bread missing, but no money,  Yet, not once did my folks get concerned or believe that someone had stolen the bread.  They knew that before the day was over . . . settlement would come.

And sure enough, before closing time someone would come in and pay for that bread . . . sometimes someone would come in and say they did not have the exact change and left a quarter or such.  My folks did not question the person, but would simply give them the change due them.  Now is that not a wonderful example of honesty!

I believe it could still be that way.  I know that in those days there was a morality different from today — and such morality was not based on whether a person was a Christian or not.  Though we seemingly live in a morally corrupt society, honesty could prevail if our lives were controlled by the One I call Lord!  Christ in a person — controlling that person — will simply reflect who He is.  And He is perfect –not only in honesty – but in every virtue that reflects perfection!

“Whoever claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did.”  (1 John 2:6)

Lawson

“He was a ruthless dictator!”  That was the reaction of the young nurse at the hospital.

As we talked, she learned that I had spent time in her native Haiti.  When she asked me about some of my adventures, she was amazed that I had survived.  She talked about the persecution her mother faced when she openly acknowledged she was a Christian.

She was both fascinated and shocked that I had not met with more opposition.  I did confess to her there were questions as to whether I should be there.  Those were the days when Haiti was ruled by the dictator, Jean-Claude Duvalier. He succeeded his father in ruling the country.  He was known as “Baby Doc.”  During his rule, he was ruthless.  Hundreds of thousands of Haitian were killed — many fled the country.  And during these terrible days, I found myself seeking to go into the mountains of Haiti.

With my companion, we spent almost two days in Port-au-Prince, waiting for Baby Doc to approve our trip.  No one was allowed to leave the city without proper papers being signed.  Guards were at the roads leaving the city and required documentation.  The papers we had to sign gave agreement that if we disappeared, the government was not responsible and would do nothing to help locate us.

We witnessed Baby Doc’s exploitation of the people.  He lived in a large palace — drove recklessly through the city –and even blew his horn as to laugh when he saw us on the street.  He raped Haiti of its economy while he lived in luxury.  Poverty was the worst in all the countries of the Americas.

Once outside the city, there was little opposition from his regime, but the threat from witch doctors and their followers became the next force to deal with.  At night as we would camp, the voodoo drums and chants would continue through the night in hopes that we would be scared.

During the days when we would see groups of people, they desired to touch our skin as most had never seen a white person.  Most witch doctors refused to meet with us.  They were incensed that we would come into their territory.  However, those Haitians who sought some authority in their life other that voodoo, welcomed us and opened that hearts to us.

The young nurse had come to the United States after Baby Doc had gone into exile.  She only knew the terrible stories that her mother had told.  She loved her country, but feared to live there even after new leadership.  She wanted to talk more, but time did not allow because of her responsibilities, and she had completed her test on me.  Through the faith of her mother, she was a Christian.  She was radiant and joyful for her salvation and freedom.  But she was still puzzled on the freedom I had when I was in Haiti.

She inquired about how I could explain that we were able to go into those virgin areas of Haiti. I responded that God has promised that when He sends us, He is with us!  He has promised!

“And surely I will be with you always, to the very end of the age.”  (Matthew 28:20)

Lawson

P.S. If you have not read one of my other blogs on Haiti, check this one:  www.lawsonjolly.com/2010/01/16

“Gimm’e an RC Cola and a Moon Pie.”  Remember that song from the 1950′s?  Well, some of you might, but many would wonder what I am talking about.  It is really a southern thing!  But the combination of a Moon Pie and a RC (Royal Crown) Cola was a popular thing in those days!

I recently had both in the pulpit with me.  I was using them as a promotional item — not seeking to sell them, but to award those in the congregation who accomplished a certain thing.  I was surprised that it was the “old-timers” that were most interested.  It brought back memories to so many.

Big Bill Lister made the song famous.  It simply reflected the popularity of the Cola and the Moon Pie.  I can remember that the expression, RC Cola and Moon Pie, was a cliché for “let’s stop and have something to drink.”  Oh, I loved the Moon Pie and the RC Cola, but sometimes I would choose something else.

The Moon Pie became a part of history in 1917 in Chattanooga.  Tradition says a salesman was visiting a company store that catered to coal miners.  He asked the men what they thought would be a good snack during the day.  They said it needed to be something filling and taste good.  The salesman asked what size should the snack be.  A miner held out his hands to frame a circle.  The image was the moon!

The salesman reported this to the bakery.  He watched some of the bakery workers dipping a graham cracker into marshmallows.  He thought it looked good, and he suggested putting another cracker on top like a lid and then covering it with chocolate.  Thus was born the Moon Pie!

In the 1950′s, the combination with the RC Cola began.  No one really knows how they seemed to combine.  But there were ads from various places that said, “RC Cola and Moon Pie — 10¢.”  For a dime one would get a 16 oz. Cola and a large — almost 6 inches across — Moon Pie!

It is not easy to find the individual, large Moon Pie today.  Most of them are smaller.  Whatever the size, the Moon Pie is simply two round graham cracker cookies  with marshmallow filling the center, dipped in chocolate.  There are other flavors today — but for me, the true Moon Pie is chocolate!

Did you know there is a world championship Moon Pie eating contest?  Yes . . . annually in Oneonta, AL.  There is also now the “heated” Moon Pie.  This has occurred since microwaves were introduced.  There is also a Moon Pie Ice Cream Sandwich.  And mini Moon Pies are thrown at Mardi Gras.

Some things may change . . . but they stay around.  I am glad that the RC Cola and Moon Pie are still available.  The bottle may have changed as has the size of the Moon Pie.  But they are still available.  They may not taste the same to me today as 60 years ago . . . but just to hold them in my hand brings back so many memories.

Make memories . . . hold to them . . . and enjoy them.  And may your best memories be of how God has blessed you!

Lawson

Funny thing happened the other day!  Well, funny to me . . . but not to a certain lady!

My wife and I were making some usual rounds of thrift stores.  It does not take long for me to make the circuit in the store and give a glance.  I am not usually looking for anything in particular.  I then will find some comfortable chair that is on sale and sit while Judy continues her browsing.

In this one particular thrift store, the furniture is located toward the back of the store.  I usually seek some chair close to the front so Judy can find me when she is ready to go.  I went toward the front door and stood for a few minutes.  Next to the doors there was a wheelchair.  I assumed that someone had used it to come from their car, but felt secure enough to walk around the store without it.

As some more time passed, I realized that it did not belong to anyone, but was in the store to aid customers — yet it was for sale.  I assumed that I could sit in it as I would in other chairs in the store.  So I walked to the wheelchair and seated myself.  It was comfortable and I believe that in a few minutes I was almost nodding with sleep.

Several people walked by me.  I believe because of my age and that I seemed to be struggling to stay awake, people assumed that it was my wheelchair and that I was confined to it.  They would graciously smile and I would return the acknowledgement.  At this point I began to think I should get up and move around and find another place to sit.  As I was contemplating this, a lady approached the doors to leave, carrying a number of bags.  She truly had her arms full.

She began to shuffle the bags in such a way to get a hand free to open the door.  She nodded toward me with a smile.  I believe it was one of sympathy toward me, as well as mentally communicating, “I can get it open.”

At that moment I aroused enough to realize she needed help.  I immediately jumped up from the wheelchair and exclaimed, “Let me help!”

She gave a low shriek . . . her face expressed surprise and shock . . . and her bags began to shift in her arms!  I thought she was going to faint!  She did everything but exclaim, “It’s a miracle!”  It was obvious that she thought I had suddenly been healed . . . jumping from the wheelchair . . . and offering to help!

No words were exchanged between us as I opened the door for her.  But make no mistake, she was shocked thinking she had witnessed a miracle.  I am sure it was a topic of conversation to friends.

Enjoying the moment . . . I settled back into the wheelchair.  I always have fun . . . but that was truly fun!

There was no miracle that day . . . but I do believe in miracles . . . because I serve a God of miracles!  And I am so happy that He can perform miracles.  I don’t know any of us that could not use a miracle things in our lives!  Trust my God of miracles!

Lawson

Uncle Tom’s Cabin became the best-selling novel in the 19th century — second only to the Bible in sales.  This novel, by Harriet Beecher Stowe, featured Uncle Tom, a suffering black slave . . . and other stories of slavery.  It showed the shame of slavery and how fellow human beings, whatever their color, should be treated with Christian love.

Of course, some condemned the book, while others cheered the publication.  It made a profound influence upon those who were in places where their influence could bring about changes.  Abraham Lincoln believed in the equality of mankind for most of his life.  Yet, he was not able to do much in bringing about equality and the freedom of slaves — as he was not yet in a position to rally for equality.

Uncle Tom’s Cabin made an impact upon his life.  As President of the United States, he was in a position to set in motion the emancipation movement.  Many believed that the Civil War was provoked by this novel.  Legend is that when President Lincoln met Harriet Beecher Stowe, he asked in jest, “Is this the woman who started this war?”

My point is not the issue of slavery . . . or the power of the Presidency . . . or any social or moral issue.  My point is that much which we do can ultimately have an influence on society.  If President Lincoln initiated action to free slaves . . . did he find courage and fortitude to do so because of the influence of the writings of Harriet Beecher Stowe?

Legend reveals that he was greatly influenced . . . and she influenced much of society through her novel.  One may not have influence on the President . . . or through some publication to influence a nation, but imagine if each one of us had a profound, positive influence on just one person . . . what might that person become or do to begin something positive for society?

Don’t ever disregard your influence.  Everyone influences others — positively or negative.  It may be parent to child, neighbor to neighbor, student to student, teacher to student, salesperson to customer, customer to salesperson, worker to fellow worker . . . we do have the opportunity to give positive influence.  Imagine if those of us who are called by the name Christian would influence another person, what a different world we might see.  You may influence a future president, congressman, commissioner, school teacher, or pastor.  And all those would use their influence to help shape others or bring about changes in our society.

I know how my life has been influenced by so many, even when they did not recognize it.  One of my books is dedicated to five young men who allowed me to share their home.  They had no concept of how their life-style and spirit brought my life to understand what a life lived for God could mean.  They shaped one life . . . probably many.  I have such responsibility to do the same . . . don’t you?

So, use that influence!  As some might say, “Rock this nation!”

Lawson

Our world provides plenty of news about homes being invaded.  It certainly is a frightening experience.  I find myself with an attitude that probably should not be expressed when I hear how a person or persons invaded a home.  Sometimes it has been to the harm of the persons in the home . . . or it may only be the plundering of the home when the residents are away.  Whatever the circumstances, it is a reality in our society.  We must be on guard for intruders!

We had an invader a few years back.  We returned from a trip.  As we opened the garage door and drove into the garage, we sensed something . . . you know that feeling you get, but you don’t really observe anything?  Getting out of the car, I slowly opened the door into the kitchen.  Carefully and cautiously I peered in.  I could see some items overturned.  I said to my wife that someone was inside, or they had been.

I suddenly heard a slight noise.  In the garage, by the door was a short 2×2.  Armed with this, I opened the door.  Curtains were in disarray, several things on the kitchen counter were broken or disturbed, pictures were tilted, and some wood shavings were on the floor.

The slight noise I had heard was no longer.  I could not hear a sound.  I quickly surveyed that the front and rear doors were locked.  “Is someone in the house?” That was my recurring thought.  My wife is now beside me.  As we both surveyed the kitchen, eating area, and the family room, our eyes beheld the pantry door!  There, close to the floor was a hole!  Not the kind made by a kick . . . but one made by the teeth of some animal!

Suddenly, we knew that the animal was still in the pantry.  Quickly I grabbed something and covered the hole.  What is in there?  Whatever it was, we had it trapped.  We began to survey the house.  This animal had been all over the house, looking for an exit.  Blinds had been destroyed, curtains damaged, and just a general mess!  But before we could deal with the destruction, we needed to deal with the intruder.

It was an invader.  This animal did not belong in this house.  The animal may not have come to attack us, but it certainly had plundered the home.  By process of elimination — size, noise, etc. we concluded it was a squirrel.  We had many squirrels in our oak trees –but now one is in our home.  Have you ever thought how to get a squirrel out of a pantry?

We considered several options — my first was the shotgun!  But what a mess it would be in that pantry!  That was not really an option.  We could not just open the door and expect the squirrel to run toward an open door.  The squirrel might be so frightened that it would run wild all over the house. We began to call several agencies — animal control, wildlife refuges, etc.  No one would come, nor did any of them have a suggestion.

We finally came up with our own method.  Now I will share it with you.  Hopefully, you will never face this dilemma.

We got several large pasteboard boxes and several sheets of plywood from the garage.  We used the breakfast table, and other items that would help work our plan.  We made a tunnel from the pantry door to the front door with these items.  When we were ready, I removed enough of the top near the pantry door to where I could peer over to see when the squirrel would come out after I removed the blockage we had place over the hole it had made.  Judy went across the street to be able to view the front door and be far enough away that the squirrel would not hesitate to run into the yard.  It took some waiting, but at last it cautiously made its escape!

The only thing that we could smile about was the squirrel’s eating habits.  This was shortly after Christmas and in a candy container on the kitchen counter were Hershey’s kisses — plain chocolate and chocolate with nuts.  Did you know that squirrel emptied all the candy on the counter . . . unwrapped and ate what it wanted . . . but only ate the ones with the notes?  Through the wrapping, the squirrel could tell the ones with nuts.  The squirrel had no desire for plain chocolate.

You are probably wondering at this point how the squirrel got in the house.  Here is the background.

We were leaving on a trip.  I had backed the car out of the garage so that I could secure the garage door from the inside.  With the car in the driveway, we remembered several other items we wanted to take with us.  We began to take these to the car — leaving the front door open.  Evidently, the inquisitive squirrel saw an opportunity to look inside.  While he surveyed the house, we closed the front door, locked it, and departed.  The squirrel was to have the house for the week!

We were extremely careful after that experience.  We are still extremely careful today.  We enjoy the squirrels in the yard . . . but we are extremely cautious that they remain there.  There are just some things not welcome at our house!  I can expand that statement and say there are many things not welcome . . . even in our lives!

There are many invaders that desire to intrude in our hearts and minds!  Beware!  They will plunder and attack.  Many a life has been destroyed by what we have allowed to slip into our life.  Let us protect ourselves!

“Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith . . . .”  (1 Corinthians 16:13)  “Above all else, guard your heart.”  (Proverbs 4:23)  “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and mind in Christ Jesus.”  (Philippians 4:7)

Lawson

We are a few days into the new year.  How are you coming with those resolutions you made?  Have you gotten started?  Will you hold to your commitment?

Easy for me to ask such questions . . . of you!  But don’t ask me about mine.  I didn’t make any.  I have never been a fan of New Year’s resolutions.  Oh, I remember those younger days when it was in vogue to make them.  I remember not only would the teacher ask us to do a list in class, but at New Year’s Eve parties — private or at church — it was like a game.  You had to make a list . . . and usually the sheet of paper that was provided had numbers.  You were expected to come up with 10 resolutions for the new year.

I remember specifically one such occasion.  It was a church function.  It was to be a serious list.  I cannot recall what all I put on the list. Trying to be cooperative, I probably listed things like:  be faithful at church, be kind to my family, read my Bible, don’t curse, help people, make better grades, etc.  But after making a “spiritual or serious” list, I suppose I reverted back to my usual attitude.  I remember exactly number 10.  On that last line for resolutions, I wrote for resolution number 10:  “I resolve to do my best to ignore the previous 9.”  You can imagine how that went over with the adult leadership!

I am not saying resolutions are not good.  They have an important place in the development of our life.  But they need to be made when we recognize the need and not just at the beginning of a new year.  Resolutions are a commitment we make — certain goals to reach.  They may be to break some habit or to begin some habit.  Such evaluation of our life is important.  But when we make resolutions, do we also have a plan of how to accomplish such a goal?  There must be a strategy.

I was fascinated with a reported list of the top ten resolutions made this year.  The language varied among list, but the intent was the same.

1.  Spend more time with the family. 2. Get more exercise.  3.  Lose weight.  4.  Quit smoking.  5.  Enjoy life more.  6.  Quit drinking.  7.  Get out of debt.   8.  Be more educated –study.  9.  Help other people.  10.  Get my life organized.

I agree with you — those are all worthy goals — if you have the need.  Most of these speak of failure already in our life.  Habits have been formed that are recognized as dangerous to health, emotions, and relationships.  Seems to me that the list is inferring that we need to get control of our lives.  Again, just listing resolutions does not bring accomplishment.  There must be a plan . . . and a discipline to stick to the plan.  The old saying, “If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.”  Strategy is not difficult.  Look at that list and you could quickly give suggestions.  Though the one with a drinking problem could list many things to do, it may just start with not hanging around people that drink too much, etc.  Or the one about getting out of debt — it begins with spending less, etc.  Making plans to reach a goal is not difficult.  It is the discipline that is hard.

I have learned that whatever habit I want to break . . . or habit I want to begin, I just cannot accomplish it by myself.  I have good intentions . . . I may discipline myself for a period of time . . . I may even sense that I am accomplishing them, but soon time passes and I realize that I have not stuck to it!  Thus, I just give up.  Do you identify with that?

But those intentions are possible.  I have discovered the strength I need to accomplish those worthy goals.  It is through the strength and inner presence of Christ.  Oh, there must still be a desire and discipline to allow Him to accomplish in my life those needed corrections and goals, but His presence in my life seems to hold me to accountability.  Though I have a long way to go in some of those desires, I am so thankful for some habits that have been forfeited that could affect my life — health-wise, emotionally,  financially, in relationships, attitude,  and I could go on.

If you truly desire to make some changes — let me offer to you the power of Christ in your life.  It will make the difference!  If you want to make those goals and resolutions . . . you can start today . . . you don’t have to wait for a new year!

“I can do everything through him who gives me strength.”  (Philippians 4:13)

Lawson

Celebrating  New Year’s Eve has changed for me through the years.  I can remember as a young boy and those early teen years when it was the one night a year that I could stay up until midnight.  We did not have a celebration at home, but our church always had a New Year’s Eve Service.  There were activities and food prior to that stroke of midnight.  We would usually go to the church about 9 p.m. and there would be a fun time until about 11:30 p.m.  Then we got serious.  We would sing hymns, and people would give words of thankfulness for the past year.  The pastor would present a Scriptural thought while everyone was watching the clock!   About one minute to midnight the pastor would begin to pray.  The purpose was to be praying at the hour the new year arrived.  I often wondered if he prayed with one eye opened looking at the clock!

As a teenager, the same privilege was granted me to stay out a little past midnight on New Year’s Eve.  I had transportation and that provided some freedom.  With friends, we would do many different things prior to midnight.  It might be a movie, a fellowship at someone’s home, or just cruising around.  However, until I graduated from high school, my freedom that night ended a few minutes before midnight.  The family rule was that I had to be at the church for those final minutes of the year!

Several churches, where I would be the pastor in later years, had the tradition of the church gathering to celebrate the New Year’s arrival.  Sometimes it included a meal followed by activities for all ages, or a later gathering for refreshments and some fellowship.  Always, however, there would be a worship service about 11:30 p.m.

In these later years, it seems that the New Year arrives without my being aware.  If there was some way to celebrate its arrival before I go to bed, it could be a good plan!  I don’t mean to sound like someone who is a Bah Humbug or someone too old to stay awake until that hour.  I believe my perspective has changed.

I see each new day as a reason to celebrate.  I rejoice over the arrival of each new day  given to me.  Hopefully, there will be enough new days for a whole year, but I will not take anything for granted.  I will choose to complete each day with thankfulness and a hope for the tomorrow. And when I awaken to that new day, I celebrate.

Whether we have a celebration of a new year or a new day, we certainly need to look back.  Some look back and remember some difficulties in their life.  Others remember something special that occurred. Whether it was good or bad, it is past.   We cannot change any of it or relive it.  We must, however, give God thanksgiving for His care over us.  And we must look forward with anticipation of  a tomorrow!  Close the door on yesterday and the past year.  See tomorrow and the tomorrows that follow as something special God is giving to each of us.

Whatever tomorrow or the year may hold, God sees it all.  We are under His watchful eye.  We can face each day with the confidence of His love and care.  Let’s welcome tomorrow with joy because of Him!

” . . .  the eyes of the Lord your God are continually on it from the beginning of the year to its end.”  (Deuteronomy 11:12)

May you have a happy and blessed New Year!

Lawson

I grew up in an era when hitchhiking was safe and enjoyable.  In fact, it was more fun to hitchhike than to  take the streetcar or the bus.  You had no fear from the person who would pick you up, and the person stopping seem to express a trust in you.  Present generations cannot relate to those days.  Oh, don’t we wish that was the world of today?

Many people who attempted to hitchhike became discouraged.  You had to know the art of hitchhiking.  You would see a fellow walking toward his destination, back to the oncoming cars, and holding his left hand up with the thumb pointed in the direction he was walking.  That spoke of little confidence in catching a ride.  If you were a serious hitchhiker, you stood still on the side of the road, facing the approaching cars, and holding your right hand up with the thumb in the air or slightly pointed toward your destination.  You would make sure your clothes looked presentable, and you would express a smile of happiness.  You wanted that driver to say to himself, “There is a happy young man.  I would trust him and probably enjoy his companionship as I travel.”

Hitchhiking was the cheapest way to travel.  People often assumed you could not afford transportation or that there was no bus or streetcar available.  I mention streetcars because much of my hitchhiking was for short distances within the Atlanta area.  Going to a movie just a few miles away, we would find ourselves hitchhiking.  Of course, if there were more than two of us, we would split up into pairs, and one group would walk up the road some distance.  Most people would not have room for more than two.  But if they did and the first pair was picked up, we would ask if the driver would pick up our friends.

There are a few, very memorable experiences from my hitchhiking days. One seemed so routine, but I remember it from the pain I endured.  I was a senior in high school and had owned a car.  But because I liked to hitchhike, and because I was stingy with my gas, I thumbed a ride from Clarkston to Stone Mountain where my grandmother lived.  I remember so well that Propane Gas truck driver who stopped and offered me a ride.  It seemed that the bounce in that truck was something unbelievable.  I did not tell the driver how uncomfortable I was, but I found myself in misery.  I was assuming it was the type truck, and remarked to myself that I will not seek a ride with this model truck ever again.  Later, as I left my grandmother’s I decided to take the streetcar home because I was still feeling the effect of that ride.  But I was to know the next morning that it had not been the result of the truck ride.  I had a kidney stone.  The bounce in the truck had broken it loose.  Within hours I was in the hospital.  I was glad that it had not been something to cause me from hitchhiking again in the future.

The longest journey by hitchhiking was from Texas to Georgia.  A friend and I made the long journey.  I cannot remember the exact time, but we were on the road for more than 24 hours.  Some of our rides were only for twenty or thirty miles, while a few took us for 100-200 miles.  One fellow stopped and offered us a ride.  He even said we could drive for him.  As we got close to him, we realized we needed to drive because he was intoxicated.  But we decided to pass up the opportunity.  What if he passed out and we did not know his destination?

We got one ride in a truck pulling a mobile home (called a trailer in those days).  We tried to get him to let us ride in the mobile home so we could sleep, but he would not let us because of laws and regulations by his company.

The most difficult time was going through Mississippi.  We were in the middle of Vicksburg National Park at about 3:30 a.m. in the morning.  It was cold and misty.  It must have been at least 3 hours before we got a ride.  Very few cars traveled that stretch of U.S. 80 that time of morning.  But at last, we got a ride and continued our odyssey.

As a confirmed hitchhiker, I always felt compelled to pick up others who were thumbing when I was in my car.  During my time in North Carolina and driving to the Atlanta area or other places where I might be doing youth revivals, I had the opportunity to pick up many fellows.  The most memorable was a young sailor.  In the course of our travel, I had the privilege to share the Gospel with him.  I carried a small New Testament that was marked with Scriptures.  At the bottom of the page where he would read, it would have written to turn to page such and such.  As he would read those Scriptures, I would explain  them to him.  The result was that during that ride he came to a personal relationship with Christ as his Savior and Lord.  He asked me if he could have that New Testament.  I did not give it to him because I felt it was so special to me.  I have regretted to this day that decision.  However, the great surprise about a year later came as I was watching the show “Name That Tune.”  This young sailor was on the program.  When they interviewed him they asked what he was going to do when he got out of the Navy.  He replied, “God has called me to preach.”  Obviously he had gotten into a church, grown in the Lord, and experienced God’s will for his life.

Hitchhiking has vanished from the culture of yesteryear.  The interstate highway system has contributed to the demise.  But most of all, fear has been the major reason.  I will not pick up hitchhikers today.  I admonish everyone not to do so.  Do not hitchhike or pick up a hitchhiker.

But there are pleasant memories of those past days.  Perhaps you can relate and have some interesting stories.

Again, thanks for letting me share my memories.

Lawson

” . . . a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”     (Luke 2:11)

Lawson

Probably most people who attended church when they were a child participated in a Christmas play.  Sometimes it is called a drama or a pageant, but for me it was always a Christmas play.

There was nothing sophisticated about the play . . . or the participants!  Most of the time there was a narrator who told the story while we children or young teenagers performed.  There would be a few times when a line was spoken by one of the wise men such as, “We have come from the east.  Do you know where the baby has been born?”  Or the innkeeper might say, “I have no room.”

Those of us participating dressed the part in whatever our parents could manage to find around the house.  The angel was always a girl in a long white dress . . . or something similar.  Mary always was dressed in blue . . . usually just a piece of blue cloth draped over her dress. And all the boys wore bathrobes!  Yes, bathrobes!  We would just wear the robe over whatever clothes we had worn to church that night.  We didn’t even go barefooted or dress in sandals.  We just wore the shoes we wore to church.

I don’t ever remember being Joseph . . . or one of the wise men.  I think I was always a shepherd!  I distinctly remember being a shepherd on several occasions.  The reason I know is how I recall trying to find a shepherd’s staff each year.  Part of my education at that age was learning that no tree grows in a u-turn!  I do know that we would find some odd shape staff . . . and even on a couple of occasions we used a limb that was soft enough to bend the end over and tie it with wire so that it looked like it had a hook at the top!

I always thought the innkeeper had the best part . . . even if it was a speaking part.  All he ever did was stand outside a cardboard-made prop with the word “Inn” painted on it.  Sometimes a door was painted on the cardboard and a section of the Inn was cut out to look like a window and all the innkeeper had to do was look out the window to Mary and Joseph and shake his head, “No.”

Those were delightful days . . . oh, yes, we were nervous!  But it was part of going to church and participation was mandated . . .  by our teachers and enforced by our parents!  But I can say that we learned well the Christmas story!  I wonder how folks would respond to such a simple presentation today?

From such an experience comes one of the most delightful stories I have ever heard.  A pastor related what happened in his church with the children and a Christmas play.  The church made the identical presentation each year.  The children looked forward to being a part of the play.  In the church was a young boy that had been the victim of polio.  He wore braces on his legs and required the use of crutches.  He wanted so much to be in the play.  For a couple of years he was passed by because of his limitations.  But on this particular year he was asked if he would like to be the innkeeper.  He responded with joy and excitement.

He only needed to open the door of the inn and respond to Mary and Joseph by saying, “I have no room.”  He practiced his line over and over.  He was confident . . . and so excited.  He did well with each rehearsal.  On the night of the play, he took his place and waited for his moment.

At last, Mary and Joseph knocked at the door of the end.  As the young boy opened the door . . . his excitement and joy overwhelmed him.  He responded loudly and with great enthusiasm, “Please come in . . . I have been waiting for you!”

There was laughter by the congregation . . . but the pastor said it was the best Christmas play ever!

What a line!  “Please come in . . . I have been waiting for you.”  Really now?  Isn’t that what Christmas is all about?  Christ has come to earth . . . and His desire is to be invited in to each and every heart!  Have you asked Him in?

“Here I am!  I stand at the door and knock.  If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in . . . .”  (Revelations 3:20)

Lawson

Christmas is a time of joy!  Children are excited! Families laugh and love!  It is truly a season of joy!  I have looked back and remembered times of special joy at Christmas.  Sometimes, that joy was even expressed with tears.

It was Christmas 1956.  I was pastor of a church in Texas and we had a special Christmas Eve program.  As soon as it was completed, I began a long, lonely journey to Georgia.  I was anxious to get home and see my family and friends.  U.S. 80.  I had traveled this highway before.  I had often hitched a ride with a friend going the direction toward Georgia.  I had ridden the bus on occasion. And the last time I had been down this highway I hitch-hiked that 1000 miles.  But now I had a car.  Though a long trip, that 1950 Plymouth was my rocket home.

There were very few service stations or businesses opened at these late evening and early morning hours. There was not much to attract your attention.  Passing the time, I know that I thought a thousand thoughts.  I thought of home and  family.  I looked forward also to seeing some old friends and sharing with them my new life.  Oh, it was to be a wonderful holiday.

Somewhere in Louisiana, about 2 a.m. I was listening to the radio when suddenly there was  static and cracking.  Then a voice seemingly broke in, and I heard “This is WSB, Atlanta, Georgia.”  How could this be?  I was too far away to pick up this station that was so familiar to me.  It happened, of course, as a result of what is called in the industry, a skip.  Because of some unusual atmospheric conditions, the sound wave was bouncing over some clouds and falling upon me!  My attention was fixed on hearing WSB.  Suddenly, the station began to play “I’ll Be Home for Christmas . . . .”  Oh, the emotion of that moment.  Tears began to flow down my cheeks.  The tears were an expression of joy and excitement.  As a 23-year-old, I had no apology for my tears.  I was going home and my heart was bursting with anticipation.  I can never forget the emotion of that moment!

Yet there is another Christmas where my heart experienced joy. A joy that overwhelmed me.  It was the Christmas of 1961.  Judy and I were in a committed relationship, and we knew that marriage was in our future.  In fact, we believed that on our first date!  Although we both anticipated marriage in the short future, there was still no official announcement of our plans.  I was the pastor of a church in Clearwater and Judy attended there with me.  The entire church knew it would only be a matter of time before an engagement would be announced.  Yet no one knew that time.

As Christmas approached, I could not think of a better time.  I talked with her father and received permission to officially propose to her.  Then at the precise, planned moment, I asked her to be my wife.  But I did not ask in the usual manner.  My proposal would be different, and few men in the world could use the words of my proposal.  As I gazed at her, I sang ” ‘Tis the Season to be Jolly!” 

And she responded yes!  Suddenly there was a joy unspeakable.  Within my heart there were fireworks, shouts, singing, laughter, joy, and even tears.  Many of those emotions were visible also.  What a Christmas joy I experienced!

The joy that must overwhelm us at this season is what we often sing “Joy to the World,! The Lord is Come.”  Celebrating Christmas must be more than the joy of being with family and friends.  There should be an emotion that is pure within our hearts–a joy beyond expression.  To know that because of the coming of Jesus Christ into the world, our lives can know a peace beyond what the world can ever offer.  Joy, happiness, and even tears should overflow from our hearts at the Christmas season.  Try to imagine a world without Jesus Christ–or your life without Him!  God so loved us that He gave to each of us His Son to be our Saviour and Lord.  Oh, we must celebrate with great joy!  And if tears are an expression of your joy, so be it!

“Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again: Rejoice!”  (Philippians 4:4)

Lawson

Most of us experience times of chaos in our life. We certainly do not desire it. We choose comfort and order in our lives. We constantly seek to control events and circumstances in order that I lives can enjoy each day. But we will all admit that moments come when comfort and peace seems all fall apart and we face hours, days, or an extended period of chaos.

At this season, have you thought about Mary and Joseph? What a wonderful time it was for them. They had fallen in love, become engaged, and looked forward to their wedding day. As with all young couples, they surely had to be excited. I would like to believe that their family and friends were rejoicing with them.

But then God moved into their lives. You know the story. The angel came to this young lady and announced that she was to become pregnant. Her reaction was that it could not be because she was a virgin. Yet, she did become pregnant through the power of God.

Imagine that day when she realized she was pregnant. Oh, the thoughts she must have had! “I cannot believe this!” “How can I explain this to Joseph?” “What will my family and friends say?” “I will be an outcast!” Suddenly her world of comfort has turned to chaos. Her future is in jeopardy. Life will never be the same for her.

Consider Joseph. Mary tells him of the pregnancy and how it happened. But Joseph did not believe her. His heart is shattered. Nothing like that happens without unfaithfulness. He knows he cannot marry her now. And even his life will never be the same. His excitement for the future crumbles. He just wants to disappear. Yet, his deep love for Mary causes him not to expose what he considered infidelity. He sought to break the engagement as quietly as possible. Oh, how he longed for the comfortable life they had enjoyed. Now all is chaotic.

How did they overcome all these feelings, thoughts, and the public array against them that would come? They yielded to God. Mary understood that God had chosen her for a special purpose, and regardless of the cost to her personally, she willingly submitted to what God wanted to do in her life. “I am the Lord’s servant, may it be to me as you have said.” (Luke 1:38)

And Joseph, likewise, accepted that God wanted him to be involved in what God wanted to do in the world. He would accept the chaos and choose to marry Mary regardless of the cost to his reputation. God put it in his heart to trust God. And he was willing. ” . . . and he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife.” (Matthew 1:24)

Don’t you marvel at the faith and obedience of Mary and Joseph? And a question behooves each of us. Are we willing for chaos to come into our life if God wants to do something through us? When God asks us to do something for Him, it can mean a change in friends, in location, job, activities, and a myriad of other things that might remove us from our comfortable life. God chose to use Mary and Joseph to be part of His eternal plan for the world. Perhaps God is calling some of us to participate with Him in what He desires to do in our family, among our friends, or in the world. Will we trust Him enough to obey, whatever the cost?

Seeking a gift to give the Lord Jesus on His Day? Why not offer you life?

Lawson

What is the most foolish thing you have ever done?  I am going to tell you about what I put at the top of my list!

Let’s be on the same page with the word foolish.  I wanted to be sure I was using the correct word so I looked the word up in the dictionary.  The first definition was “without good sense.”  That fits what I am going to share.  I am remembering a foolish act that was unwise and dangerous.  So my question could have been the most dangerous thing ever done.  I am not speaking of danger that could not be avoided, but danger that existed because I was unwise and didn’t use good sense.

At my age I often mutter to myself after observing certain actions of a young person . . . or even one much older . . . and I say to myself, “That was foolish.”  I thought what they did was dangerous, uncalled for, unwise, and just without good sense.  But as I made such an observation recently, I had to halt my thinking and remember I did some foolish things!

I thought for a moment on the question, “What is the most foolish thing I have ever done?”  Two situations came so quickly that I am not sure what things would have followed.  The second thing that came occurred in north Georgia.  A friend and myself had arranged dates with two young ladies.  We drove a couple of hours out of Atlanta.  The young ladies had planned a gathering with some other friends in one of the state parks.  After we ate, two of the local fellows, who knew these young ladies well, offered to take us on a boat excursion across the lake.  We all got into what was a very fast ski boat.  I felt uncomfortable from the beginning.  Darkness on such a lake at the speed we were travelling was extremely unwise — foolish.  But I kept quiet.

I realized these two fellows desired to frighten us and impress the young ladies they knew.  Suddenly, the driver of the speed boat slowed and allowed the engine to die.  The boat began to slowly move toward what I knew was the dam.  The driver focused a spotlight ahead.  There was the overspill with water flowing through it.  He allowed the boat to go with the current until the bow rested on the overspill.  I confess I was scared.  Of course, I tried not to show it.  I imagined his starting the engine –being confused about the gear, and putting it in forward and not in reverse.  Obviously, all turned out well. But this ranks high in times of being foolish.  My consolation is that it was not the result of my action, but on another.  Yet, I cannot disregard my part of not acknowledging disapproval and that this was unwise, foolish, but. . . at that age and in that environment . . . I confess I was chicken!

So let me share the number one on my  list.  And I was totally responsible!

Our senior class from high school had an outing at the foot of Stone Mountain.  After dark, we were sitting around the fire talking about experiences on the mountain.   Many had stories . . . but having grown up just a few blocks away, I had many stories.  Most knew about times that old cars had been pushed off the side of the mountain.  I told them of time that one old junk car was pushed off the steep side of the mountain with dummies dressed like Hitler and Messalina.

The question came, “How can someone drive a car up the mountain?  There are places too steep for a car to go.”  I explained that you didn’t follow the path that people walked.  There were some turns to make to avoid those steep places.  I told them that during the war, there was a lookout post there manned by soldiers.  They drove jeeps, and even a truck, to the top.

That is about when I began to show that I would do a foolish thing.  I invited some to go with me.  “Let’s drive up there right now.  My old ’36 Chevy can do it.”  Several fellows took me up on the idea.  We headed out –mind you, it is dark — but I had good headlights and I knew the way.  After time, we were right to the ridge of the top.  I had proved my point and we started back down.  Now, I was the only one riding inside.  The others were hanging on and standing on the running board.  They wanted to be sure they could bail ship at any time.  And bail they did!  By the time I got back down, I had no companions.  It was far more dangerous coming down than going up!

It was dangerous — foolish — unwise.  Now I look back and ask what prompted me to do it?  Was it a dare?  Was it simply a challenge to do something I have never done?  Was I trying to be a show-off, a big man?  Probably all of it was involved.  I do know that ego can lead us into some dangerous situations.

Though I could list some other times of doing foolish things — even in times when I was more mature — what comes to my heart at this moment is thankfulness to my Heavenly Father who provided protection and care.  When I should have been more wise and protected myself by not doing it, God was there.  We can never comprehend God’s omnipotent power and presence.  He could have just let me reap the possible results of my foolishness, but He didn’t.  Oh, how blessed to have such a watchful Father!

“The Lord will keep you from all harm — he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going from now and forevermore.”  (Psalm 121:7-9)

Lawson

One of my “slip-away-to” places as a teenager and young adult was Clayton, Georgia.  There are so many memories from those days.  There seemed to be something that would draw me to the lakes, mountains, and the general terrain.

After I had my own car, I began to make regular journeys to this area. It really began when I was a junior in high school.  If I found one or two people who just wanted to go somewhere on a Sunday afternoon, or sometimes for the day during the summer, I would always head for Clayton and the surrounding area.  Just 13 miles south of Clayton is Tallulah Gorge.

I always stopped at the gorge.  There was a souvenir shop beside the road.  It was a good place to stop for refreshments and view the gorge.  There was also an overlook.  It is a spectacular canyon.  Over 2 miles long and nearly 1,000 feet deep.  Today there is a wonderful state park where you can hike down the gorge and other activities are available.

On one  Sunday afternoon, I made the trip with several friends.  We stopped, as usual, at the overlook.  As we did often, we began to pick up some stones and throw them across the gorge.  Not that it was possible, but you always tried.  We could not cast a stone far enough to even clear the steep terrain and hit the river below.  But it was fun to see how far we could throw the rock.

On this day, as I threw a stone — someone remarked with excitement, “What is that silver thing?”  I didn’t really have time to see the object.  But a couple of the friends saw it and knew it was not a stone.

In that quick moment, I had the awareness and yelled, “It’s my bracelet!”  Yep, that it goes!  My favorite gift from the Christmas past!  I had so wanted that bracelet, and my parents had given it to me.  It was a Speidel Photo Ident bracelet!

For those who don’t know that famous product, let me introduce you to it. The Speidel Photo Ident bracelet dates back to the time of drive-in movies.  Often “steady” couples had them.  (By the way, no girl had one to match mine — you figure that out!)

Some similar bracelets are back in fashion now, especially as medical Id bracelets.  But those in my day came on the scene in 1951.  Before that date, Id bracelets were a chain which featured a solid metal plate about an inch and a half in length.  The person’s name was engraved on the plate.  Many times, seriously dating couples would have them and exchange them to identify to whom they belonged!

Again, I had one — and unfortunately, there was no match since there was no one to whom I belonged!  But this Photo Id bracelet had an expandable wristband rather than a chain.  The plate on which one’s name would be engraved, opened and inside was a place for a small photograph.  How I treasured this bracelet!

But, alas, there at Tallulah Gorge, it sailed through the air.  The force of throwing the rock caused that expansion band to enlarge enough to slip over my hand and follow the rock through the air!  I was stunned!  It took me a few second to comprehend it was gone forever!  Some of my friends did not think so.  One of the young ladies said, “Let’s go get it.”  She began to climb below the overlook.  I insisted it would be foolish.  There would never be the possibility to find it.  It might be hanging it a tree!  We could never know how far out it had gone!  And besides, there was no way one could climb very far down that steep gorge.

I had to accept it was gone — and gone forever!  Well, maybe not gone forever  — but separated from me forever!  And I realized the other day — even after about 60 plus years — that bracelet is possibly still there!  At least wherever it landed!  Could it have survived?  Yes, if it is true what they say about stainless steel!  That bracelet had a stainless steel back, with sterling silver on the top where my name was engraved.  That part of the bracelet might be unrecognizable because of tarnish and corrosion, but that band is probably still in those lonely woods!

And what about the picture inside?  You are waiting probably for me to confess what picture  was inside.  Did I have a picture of a sweetheart inside?  Oh, how I wish!  Did I have a picture of my beloved dog, Pug?  No!  Did I dare have my own picture?  Now, come on — can you imagine how conceited a person would have to be?  Did I have cheat notes in it for some exam?  Quit guessing.  I will confess.

My confession is that it was none of the above!  In honest confession, I don’t think I had anything in it.  I suppose I was waiting for some young lady to give me a picture of herself so I could put it in that bracelet.  But it never happened.  Woe is me!

So, somewhere on the side of that beautiful gorge lies one 1951 Speidel Photo Id bracelet.  Now that I can afford it, I am offering a reward!  Looking for adventure — a hunt — a challenge?  Go find it!

I don’t grieve over it.  But I have enjoyed the memory.  And the loss of that Id bracelet reminds me that my identity was not defined by that bracelet. I lost a bracelet, but not my identity.  I am still the same person.  I am not defined by material things or things that I own.  I am identified by whom I am in Christ Jesus!  I won’t need an Id bracelet to get into heaven . . . or for God to know who I am!  He knew me before I was ever born . . . He has never forgotten me . . . and now He knows me as His child because of my faith in His Son.

“The Lord knows those who are his . . . .”  (2 Timothy 2:19)“How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!  And that is what we are!  (1 John 3:1)

Lawson

Many believe that Haiti is the voodoo capital of the world.   Although no written records exist, oral history records that in 1791 the voodoo priests  made a pact with Satan.  They promised that if he would help liberate them from France, they would give him the country.  Thirteen years later, in 1804, the nation of Haiti was born.  The people believed Satan had served them and so they believed it was his land and they must serve him.  Voodoo and witchcraft would be considered the primary religion of Haiti.

Voodoo and witchcraft have continued to flourish.  My interest was to see the reality of this satanic practice.  A friend, Deville Legrande (The Grand Devil) grew up in Haiti and was dedicated as a child to witchcraft.  He was raised in a witch doctor’s compound and trained to become a witch doctor. He told incredible stories of men being stabbed and yet not be injured; ropes turning to snakes, and countless other satanic practices.  Through the grace of God he was delivered, saved, and called to ministry.  As  he shared stories of the power of Satan  he had witnessed and experienced,  I wanted to see this and confront it much like Elijah and the prophets of Baal.

Thus my adventure into Haiti in 1976.  Up into the mountains some 250 miles from Port-au-Prince, I travelled.  I would see no Catholic or Evangelical churches.  It was explained that these voodoo priests had control of certain areas.  Most of them would not entertain me, and they would order their followers to observe our movements.  As we would camp at various places, we would hear the drums and chants throughout the night.  It was their purpose to intimidate us.  Finally after several days of seeking invitations, we were invited to the compound of one of the priests.

As we talked, I noticed a small, mud, low-roofed building.  I inquired what it was.  It certainly could not accommodate people for daily living.  The witch doctor explained.  The best translation of what he said is that it was the holy place.  I asked if I could go in.  His first response was no, but later he recanted and gave me permission.  I had to crawl inside.  There was a small area about five feet by five feet.  There were  markings on the wall and a few bowls sat on the dirt floor.  I saw another opening and I crawled through.  I suppose he would have called this small area the holy of holies.  There were items on the wall and floor – - dried frogs, human hair, skulls, and bones.  There was an odor, but I was overwhelmed with a spirit of oppression.  I cannot totally describe it, but I felt an evil power, and I was very uncomfortable.  I quickly retreated from this small structure into the fresh air.  I had not seen a visible act of Satan, but I could affirm his presence.

Once outside I told the witch doctor that he was reputed to have special powers.  He acknowledged such and so I asked him for a demonstration.  He called several people from the compound.  The drums began, and dancing commenced.  It was a wild  expression of contortions and sounds. As many of them began to work themselves into a frenzy,  I must admit that I began to feel that same evil oppression that I had experienced in his holy place.  It was enough for me.  I felt Satan was there, and I used my hands to show it was enough.  The priest motioned to the group, and all became quiet.  He seemed pleased that I felt the presence of his god–the evil one.

He then asked if I had any power from my God.  I, of course, had no such power other than the power of prayer at that moment.  As my mind obviously sought wisdom from God, I picked up a small rock from the ground.  I began to rub the rock against my elbow.  Suddenly the rock was not there in my elbow — supposedly.  I then walked over to his wife and made it appear that I pulled the rock out of her mouth. The witch doctor and the others made an audible sound and stepped back.  They seemed frightened.  There was a sudden respect for the power they thought I possessed.

The witch doctor walked away.  I asked my companion what that meant.  He did not know, but said we should just wait.  I feared that I had embarrassed him, and now we would have to face the consequence.  He came back with a chicken.  Of course, I thought he would slaughter the chicken and sprinkle the blood on us, or something like that, and pronounce a curse.  He surprised me as he handed me the chicken as a gift and acknowledged my powers.

I quickly responded that I had no power.  I told him it was a trick, and I attempted to explain that it was all a sleight-of-hand.  I then proceeded to tell him that I did represent a God who had power.  I pointed to the trees and said that my God made the trees; I spoke of the sun moving across the sky and said that my God made that;  I looked at a small child standing nearby and said my God makes life possible; and I followed with several other evidences of the power of my God.

He did not want to hear this and indicated that the visit was over.  We walked away with a peace that we had been able to be a  witness in  one of Satan’s strongholds.  The power of Satan is real  whether it is expressed in Haiti or your neighborhood.  We must be equipped to fight it.  Walking  in other countries through dense jungles and other places where I felt so isolated, I would constantly quote ” . . . the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.”  (1 John 4:4)  The power of His presence in our life is always more powerful than Satan.  Believe that.  Live that!

Lawson

While in language school in Costa Rica, a request came from the priest of a Catholic church in Sequirres. He requested that we make available New Testaments to the community. As the leader of the student body, I arranged for several students to go with me. The Good News for Modern Man had been translated into Spanish and the Archdiocese of Central America had endorsed it. There were a few priests that desired for their people to have the Scriptures in their homes. The priest in Sequirres was one of those.

The priest had indicated he would like for us to be outside the church following Mass so that the parishioners could obtain one. We offered to provide them free, but he insisted that we sell them because the people would treasure them if they had purchased them.

The four of us, from different denominations, took the train to Sequirres. We arrived late afternoon on a Saturday. We went to a four-room boarding house where we rented two rooms. It was really run down and had only one bath on the hall for all four rooms. But we knew we could handle it for one night. However, we decided that we would not eat there, but go to the only public eating establishment in town. After putting our few things in the room, we went to eat. We were very uncomfortable by the way we were received and treated, and we knew that we were not welcomed in this small town.

After we ate, we walked over to the Catholic church to see the priest. We went to his home beside the church. The priest we met indicated that he was not the regular priest and had come only for the services on Sunday. The priest who had invited us had been taken ill and had gone to the hospital in San Jose. We explained that we had come by invitation to distribute the Bibles. He was very firm in saying he would not permit it. He spoke harshly to us and told us to leave town. He was an elderly priest who did not accept that we all had the privilege to be together in the family of God. It was obvious that he had no patience for evangelicals, as we were called in Costa Rica.

We left his home with discouragement. We knew that we could not distribute the New Testaments, but also that we would have to remain in town until the next morning when we could catch a train back to San Jose. It seemed that the priest spread the word quickly through town about us faster than we could walk back to the boarding house. We felt the eyes of everyone were upon us. When we went back to the boarding house, we were told we could not stay there. Our money was refunded and we were told to leave immediately.

As we walked down the street a man spoke to us and shared that he was an evangelical. He indicated that he was part of a small church in town. We walked with him to his small home. He apologized that he could not accommodate us for the night, and that the other few members could not. However, he told us that we could sleep in the building they used for church. We walked with him to their meeting place. It was a very small, abandoned railroad shack for storing tools and equipment. The church had made five or six benches and a table. They used these for their worship services. There was no light or water in the shack. This kind gentleman brought us some candles and matches. No bedding was needed because of the heat. We would simply lie on the benches the best we could. It was not wise to venture out, and so we spent a very long evening waiting to be tired enough to attempt to sleep.

As last we attempted to go to sleep. A few minutes after we all got quiet, we began to hear noises. We realized that we were not alone in the shack. A candle was quickly lighted, and we saw very large rats running across the floor. Some of them would weigh three or four pounds. This size rat was not unusual in Costa Rica. We decided to leave a candle burning. However, we were not comfortable with just a candle burning. We then determined to keep several candles burning and to take turns sitting up to assure our safety. It was a very long night!

The next morning found us without water or food. Suddenly there was a knock at the door and it was several members of the congregation bringing some food and water. These were believers with courage and commitment. We would have enjoyed sharing their worship service with them, but our train was to arrive prior to their service time. We were soon on our way back to San Jose, but it would be an experience not to be forgotten.

God’s provision is always over us. He will provide. We must never overlook His care that might come in interesting ways!

“And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.”  (Philippians 4:19) “But you are a shield around me, O Lord . . . .”  (Psalm 3:3)

The last three years I have had the joy of visiting Bethlehem about this time of year.  But on my visit this year, it was my birthday.  Having come to know most of the shop keepers and even many of the people walking the streets, I was overwhelmed when the local innkeeper, whom I have known for several years, gathered many of the people and acknowledged my presence.  Then he announced it was my birthday.  Then the air was filled with the familiar song, “Happy Birthday.”  (In English, of course.)

Before I tell you the rest of the story, let me remind you of Bethlehem in earlier times.

Bethlehem is about five miles southwest of Jerusalem.  The city might have gone unnoticed in history except for the fact that it is the birthplace of Christ.  In the time of Christ, this small village would find the local market area busy with people.  Under close scrutiny by the Romans, who occupied the land, the residents would walk the streets stopping at various shops.  They went about their daily living lacking joy and peace.  They were intimidated by the soldiers and wished to be in control of their own land and lives.

And as if I was back in time, I experienced it as in those days of long ago!

I was stopped at the gate of the city and required to pay a tax before entering.  I cannot say that the soldiers were kind!  But I paid the tax and I entered the city. I joined many people who were busy with their mission of purchasing household needs.  There were some who were seeing old friends and taking time to visit.  I cannot say that the street was filled with joy — more anxiety that anything else, I believe.  They feared the Roman soldiers.  Life seemed difficult for them.

I began to stop at the various shops.  Whether you were seeking to buy fresh fruit, oil for lamps, furniture for the home or a myriad of other items, you could find it all in the many shops.  There were  animals –sheep, goats, and birds for sale.  And the smell of fish –it was everywhere.  There was a smell from the streets that verified this was a productive market.  Baskets and pottery were there for household use, along with other items to aid the family in daily living.  I was quite enthralled as I had the privilege to visit a Jewish home where the entire family welcomed me.  I cannot forget walking by the Temple.  The elders looked so stern!

During my visit I heard much talk.  There was the talk that a baby had been born.  But not any baby.  This child was reported to be the promised Messiah — the Saviour of the World.  No one seemed to know for sure –but there was much talk, or gossip, about him.  Most seemed excited about the possible birth of this child.  They believed he would rescue them from the Romans who so controlled their lives.

I was caught up in the moment.  Suddenly, I joined a group of travelers — a tour guide was explaining many things to them.  As I followed, the group arrived at a stable. There was a couple with a new born child.  There it was declared that this was the Child — the Christ Child — the Promised Messiah — the King!  As with the shepherds who had come seeking Him, we all bowed before Him.  It was the first Christmas!  Joy to the world, the Lord has come!

I would like to tell you the rest of the story . . . .

But you need to experience it!  This is the presentation — so authentic — presented as Walk Through Bethlehem.  Richland Baptist Church has built the entire city –about a third of the size of the city in the day of the birth of Christ.  Tour guides lead you on this remarkable visit.  The reputation of this presentation has been well publicized.  I commend it to you.

But, alas, so many of you are too far away geographically.  But it does not mean that you cannot experience the birth of Christ this Christmas season.  The experience is in the heart — not in the streets of Bethlehem.  Christ Jesus will come to all who seek for Him.  Call Him to come into your life.  Know the fullness of life He offers.  What a wonderful Christmas season it becomes when we truly allow Him to enter our life.

“A Savior has been born to you, he is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:11)  “Though you have not seen him . . . you believe in him  and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.” (1 Peter 1:8, 9)

Lawson

P.S.  To those in the Tampa Bay area and north –Zephryhills, Dade City, etc.  Come visit us.  December 9, 10, 11, 6:00 p.m. – 10:00 p.m.  My wife and I will find joy in greeting you!

December 7, 1941. “A date which will live in infamy,” declared President Franklin Roosevelt.

Seventy years later, Americans remember that day.  Perhaps each year there is less remembrance because the number of those who remember that terrible day dwindles because of age.  But we must never forget.

The Japanese attacked our U.S. Navy fleet anchored at Pearl Harbor.  All 8 of the Navy battleships were damaged, with 4 of them being sunk.  In addition, 3 cruisers, 3 destroyers, and 188 aircraft were destroyed or damaged.  But those are material things. The real cost was that  2,402 Americans were killed, with thousands being wounded.  No one expected this attack — and many families in America suffered tragically.  Full reports of deaths and injuries were not known for days.

The shock to the American people was beyond anything this nation had ever experienced.  This attack by the Japanese resulted in the United States entering into World War II.  The day following this attack, war was declared on Japan.

Not many who read this blog were alive on that fateful day.  But I remember!  Most world events do not get the attention of a 7 year old, but I remember!  Oh, I did not understand what had really happened in the world, but I knew it was a terrible day as I saw grief and fear resonate among people I knew.

The attack happened at 7:55 a.m. on a Sunday morning.  I know the time only by having read it, but I remember that day.  Even though I did not grasp the conversations, I knew something very terrible had occurred. I do not remember what was said in our family, but I am sure there was knowledge that many would be called upon to fight.

It would be only a short time before I began to understand war.  Fear plagued our town. Many feared that if the Japanese were capable of attacking Pearl Harbor, they might actually attack the American shores.  Air raid sirens were installed.  We would soon practice for possible attacks.  There would be men, my father being one, who were called upon to walk the streets during the practice times when the siren would sound.  These wardens would check to make sure all lights in every home were off.  We would get under the dining table until an all-clear was sounded. There was even the talk that planes would fly over and drop small bags of flour to show where bombs might have landed.  I only heard that — I never saw any actual fact.  But we lived in an area outside the big city.  And the larger cities would have been the first to be attacked.

Life changed.  Fathers, husband, and young men went off to war.  Mothers began to work in factories to supply the needs of war.  School children collected scrap metal.  Everyone was affected.  And it began on that infamous day, December 7, 1941.

War is a terrible thing.  Life was not intended to be lived in fighting and killing between nations.  We can sing, “Peace on earth, goodwill toward men,” but singing it does not bring the result.  Until the Son of God rules in the heart of man, there will be war.  This is a good day to remember the horror of war and seek to bring resolution between nations through the spreading of the gospel of Christ.  God has called out men and women to go throughout the world with His message of peace.  Certainly, we can pray today for the penetrating of the gospel into every life throughout the world.

I don’t expect a peaceful world in my lifetime, but regardless of conflict among nations, I have a peace in my heart that can never be lost.  It is the peace that Jesus Christ has brought to me.  May it be so in every life!

Lawson

Related blog.  My Family and World War II  www.lawsonjolly.com/2010/03/29

Did you ever make a mistake and realized it was too late to correct it?  Perhaps it had to do with something you spoke.  Perhaps it was cutting a piece of material and you cut it too short.  Or perhaps you were cutting a board and it was an inch too short!  Too late to correct the mistake, right?  There are often times when such actions on our part were a mistake.  No one else was to blame.  And once we discovered it –it was too late to correct.

That has happened to me many times!  I am always embarrassed when I catch such a mistake.  I did that yesterday!  My blog Never Too Late had a terrible mistake in it.  For those of you who go to my website, you did not know of the mistake.  But for the many that receive my blog automatically via email, you saw it!  I had titled the blog Never To Late.  Did you catch the difference?  I used to where I should have used too.  I did not catch the mistake until after the emails had been sent automatically.  When I saw it at about 8 a.m., it was too late to correct it.  At that point, no one had gone directly to my site and so I was able to correct it before others saw it.

But for those receiving the blog automatically, it was too late!

There is a lesson for me here.  A lesson that I have known for a very long time . . . but I still make the mistake.  Sometimes it is a slip of the tongue . . . sometimes in grammar . . . and sometimes in attitude.  Are you with me?  You know the experience, don’t you?  So often we have said something . . . or done something, and soon after we realize what a mistake we made.  We feel the pain inwardly because we so regret that spoken word or attitude.  We would like to relive that moment and to have avoided what we said or the way we reacted.  But, alas, it was too late!

There is no way to ever take back that moment.

And the most regrettable part is that we might have offended a person . . . and even hurt a relationship.  When we discovered such, we begin to fumble for the right words to explain ourselves.  Then we begin to wonder if the person really understood.  And I can recall some times in action or words where I was wrong . . . and I have never had the opportunity to make correction.  Oh, how I trust the person is forgiving and understanding.

Perhaps we can never completely avoid such mistakes . . . but one thing I know.  I can be understanding and forgiving when someone else makes that mistake toward me!

“Bear with each other and forgive . . . .”  (Colossians 3:13)

Lawson

Age can be defied or given into.  Some people are old before they get there.  Some people are old and you wouldn’t know it.  On and on, we could go about age.  You know what I mean.  There are some folks that we observe  doing certain things and we exclaim, “I can’t believe he can do that at his age!”

An attitude about age is so important.  My dad had a good attitude about aging.  He just always believed he could continue to do what he wanted to do.  He was well into his nineties before he quit climbing a tree to celebrate his birthday each year.  He lived life with the expectation that each day would bring something to do.  He wanted to be busy everyday, and he was, until he died at over 100 years of age.

But I thought my dad was old when he was only 75 years of age.  My perspective is quite different now, of course.  In 1983 I invited him to go with me on a mission trip to Korea.  I knew it could open doors of communication, because of the respect of Koreans for the elderly.  And his presence did open doors.  He would sit with men in the market place and share the gospel with them.  He would share his testimony at churches.  He was truly an asset for attracting the respect of so many.

A testimony to the respect for his age was witnessed by video.  I was asked to make a presentation of the gospel through an interpreter that would be filmed to be used by the Foreign Mission Board (now known as the International Mission Board) in training people in churches that would come to Korea as a mission team.  We were sitting on the floor in a home where the presentation was to be made.  My dad was seated on the floor with all of us.  About a third of the way through the filming, a commotion ensued.  My dad had leaned back against the door.  The door opened, and my dad rolled out backwards into the yard.  All the Koreans reacted and ran to him.  There was nothing more important to them than the fact that an elder had fallen.

Perhaps the best example of our never being too old to be used comes from my dad on that trip.  He insisted on going without me  to see a man he had heard about.  With an interpreter, dad  left the village and walked several hours up a mountain.  When they arrived, the older gentleman that they went to visit told them very curtly that he did not want to hear a word they had to say.

My dad responded, “Old man, sit down and listen to me.  I not only came from America to see you, but I have walked up this mountain and you are going to listen to me.”  The man responded with an apology and sat and listened to Dad.  The result was that the man came into a personal relationship with God through putting his faith in Jesus Christ.  We are never too old to share the gospel nor are we ever too old to receive the gospel!

There are many people who feel they are just too old to do much anymore.  There might be some limitations because of illness or physical abilities, but we are never too old to serve the Lord.  Some of us must get busy because the days are hastening by.  Think today what you can be doing.  It may be a phone call, a written note, a conversation with a neighbor or family member, or someone at the church to whom you can express concern and love.  You can be the one God uses to bring a word of hope, encouragement, and love from Him.  Because of your age, you may get the attention to your words that are deserved.

Please don’t get old before your time!  Use your days wisely.  You are never too old!  Never!  Never!

“They will still bear fruit in old age.”  (Psalm 92:14))    “Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, O God, til I declare your power to the next generation, your might to all who are to come.”  (Psalm 71:18)

Lawson

As you know, I just celebrated a birthday.  I celebrated my 77th birthday.  But I have had another birthday — but the extra birthday doesn’t count in the chronology of birthdays that commemorates the years we have lived on the earth.  The extra — and extraordinary — birthday is in a totally different realm.  Let me tell you about it and how it came about!

During the summer of 1946, several of the boys my age formed a club.  We had regular club meetings, but with no agenda.  Within a few weeks of organizing, we had a quarter in our treasury.  I don’t remember how we got it, but it was a big deal!  We had elected some officers, but no treasurer.  Seemingly at this important meeting as we discussed what to do with the quarter, we realized we did not trust any of us to become the keeper of the quarter.

It was decided that we would take the quarter, place it in a Prince Albert tobacco can, and bury the can behind the club house.  After all agreed on the number of paces from the clubhouse, we dug a hole and buried the can.  We would dig it up at  every club meeting just to admire our treasure.

My house was next to the club house and I thought about that quarter.  The temptation grew, and when I could account for every member of the club, I paced off the steps, dug up that can,  stole the quarter, and buried the can again.  I had plans for that quarter.  In Stone Mountain, Georgia in those days, the Saturday afternoon matinée was 14 cents, popcorn was 10 cents, and a piece of bubble gum was 1 cent.  That would give purpose for the existence of that quarter.  So I did steal it; I did not borrow it; I did not leave an I.O.U.  In fact, at the next meeting when we discovered the quarter was gone, I yelled the loudest about someone stealing our quarter.

A few days later, I was down in the village and went into Mr. Henry’s store.  He asked if I needed something, but I simply replied that I was just hanging around.  In a few minutes he went to the store-room.  I felt my success as a thief, and so I quickly went to the apple crate, and stole an apple.  I returned the next day for another apple.  The same conversation and scenario followed.  This time I quickly grabbed two apples.

Immediately I felt something inside.  I knew what I was doing was wrong.  It was contrary to what I had been taught at home and in Sunday School.  But I could not think straight.  I quickly put the apples under my arms and ran out of the store.  I ran home and climbed the tallest tree in the yard.  I felt sick inside for what I had done.  But I did not know what to do.  I ate the apples, and I believe I even ate the cores because I wanted to destroy all the evidence.

About that time, my mother called me.  I came down the tree and went inside.  Well, I looked at my mother and I knew I was in trouble.  Sure enough, my mother had heard I stole those apples.  A good neighbor had been at the door of Mr. Henry’s store and saw me steal the apples.  I even ran by her on my quick exit, but I did not see her.  I since have learned that Satan can blind us as well as confuse us mentally.

My mother, of course, gave me quite a lecture.  It was where she sat in the chair and had me lay across her lap, and while she lectured she used hand motions where her right hand when up and down on my back side.  Now why am I confessing all this?

I share this because of what happened later that summer.  In August I was sitting under some pines tree in north Georgia,  I had an experience that day.  I did not see visions or hear voices, but inside something happened to me.  I had known for years the story of Jesus Christ dying on the cross for my sins.  I understood mentally that I needed to accept Him as my personal Saviour.  But until that Thursday afternoon, it had only been head knowledge.  In that moment, God’s Holy Spirit  used that knowledge to lead to a heart experience.  That day I became aware of stealing that quarter and apples, and a myriad of other things that God would call sin.  I repented of those things, and personally asked Jesus Christ into my life as my Saviour and Lord.  I was what the Bible calls, “Born again.”  This was a new birth.  A birthday to be celebrated!

He came into my life . . . and my life has never been the same.  God’s Spirit used that quarter and those apples to bring me into a relationship with Him.  Is there something in your life that He is seeking to use to draw you to Him?  Have you a spiritual birthday to celebrate?

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”  (1 John 1:9)

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”  (John 3:16)

I may be 77 years old . . . but I am 65 years old as a child of God!  Trust me if you have questions.

Lawson

77!   Double lucky number?  Athletic jersey number?  Bus route number?  Number of pennies in the drawer?  Miles to the event?  There are plenty of questions to which the answer could be 77.  But you know I have something more specific in mind.

The 77 is the age of many people today!  And it is amazing the reports that come that 77 year olds are accomplishing.  Their physical and mental abilities make the news daily.

77 year old scales building in London  –  A group assembled to protest a “shared appreciation program” concerning home mortgages.  Surprising to all, a 77 year old man scaled the front of the bank building in protest and waved a sign.

77 year old fights off attacker in Honolulu –  An attacker attempted to grab the purse of Susan Ng as she entered her apartment.  Although the attacker caused her to suffer a broken wrist, the 77 year old woman repelled the attacker and caused him to flee.

77 year old leaps fence in Canada –  Former Prime Minister Jean Chretien leaped a fence to give a promised interview to the media.  Reporters were amazed at the strength and agility of this 77 year old.

77 year old gets pilot license in Arkansas — William Myers has his dream fulfilled.  From childhood he wanted to be a pilot.  He passed the exam and received his pilot license at age 77.

77 year old wins marathon in Nigeria – Elizabeth Cheboywo believed she could win the 12 kilometer race – and she did.  She enchanted everyone with her spirit and determination.  She says one day she will take part in Boston Marathon or even the Olympics.  She said, “People had taken her as a joke, but now they know I am serious, even at 77.”

77 year old completes 8th circumnavigation solo in Japan – At age 77, Minoru Saito is the oldest solo circumnavigator as he completed a 1080 day around the world alone.  He fought typhoons and destructive winds and waves.  When asked about retirement, he laughs and talks about raising funds for his next voyage.

77 year old Triathlete in Canada – Ray Colliver is a senior triathlete with 23 years of road cycling, running and triathion experience.  He is an instructor in triathlete disciplines, swimming, biking, and running.  He is the National Triathlete in his age group.

77 year old is world’s oldest skydiver – Montsu, a Catatan grandmother, carries prosthesis in her hip, but continues to skydive at age 77.  She has made 903 jumps and participates in world competition.

77 year old Gerontology student at the University of Miami — Bob Turner is a Ph.D student at Miami.  He is a business man and a national qualifier in the shot put and discus in the U.S. Senior Olympics.  His long interest in education led him to pursue this graduate degree.

77 year old crushes apple with his one hand – 77 year old Don Hoge, a former wrestler and boxer, crushes an apple with one hand.  He squeezes the apple with the strength in one hand until it is pulp.

77 year old body building grandmother — Kelly Nelson is 77 years old and wins many body building championships.  She trains hard everyday and believes she will continue to win in competition long after 77 years of age.

77 year old ballplayer in Nebraska – Bob Northup is a 77 year old ace on the softball team.  He is considered the best pitcher in the league in Lincoln, Nebraska.  He is still an excellent hitter and has unusual speed for running the bases.

Aren’t you amazed at the abilities of these 77 year olds?  They should be an inspiration to those in their 50s or 60s.  I know I am encouraged.  These individuals believe in themselves.  They have not surrendered to what some call “old age.”

These 77 year olds have not grown old because they have not given up on their desires to accomplish certain things.  And even if one has some limited disability that has come from aging, there is no reason not to believe there are still challenges that can be achieved.

I don’t believe we are ever old until we give up on life.  An old Guatemalan proverb says, Everyone is the age of their heart.  I believe that so strongly. I am not ready to surrender.  And you have read of this in previous blogs, such as Fourth Quarter of Life, www.lawsonjolly.com/2010/01/19. 

And do you remember my confession in my blog, Tattoo?  I spoke of some things I can no longer do — surf, skydive, ride the Harley, etc.  But that doesn’t mean I am old!  I don’t focus on what I can no longer do . . . but on what I can still do . . . and perhaps some new adventures and challenges.  There are times when my body will not keep up with my spirit, but I can adjust to that and be so grateful for the spirit that desires to do so much.

So why all this rambling today?  Why such a focus on being 77 years of age?  Well, it is my birthday . . . and I am 77 years old.  And God has been so good!  I have had a wonderful, adventurous, and fulfilled life.  But, I believe the best is yet to be!  I celebrate today . . . and the many years ahead as I reach toward the goal of being 100 years old!

Lawson

Blindness is a harsh word.  I used it deliberately, however.  But I also used courage.  There is a story of blindness that testifies to courage . . . and resonates with hope.  I have felt impressed to share the story of our daughter.  Far beyond my regular readers, everyday there are a multitude of people who are searching the internet and are directed to one of my blogs because of some key word they used in their search.  I know that the word blindness, courage, and hope are some of the key words used often in a search.

And to you who found this site through searching for something related to blindness or courage or hope,  I urge you to see the following videos.  There is great encouragement to all of us –sighted or blind– through the remarkable story of our daughter.

This first video is from a Billy Graham special.   www.youtube.com/watch?v=alV4Ba8PCtU

The second video is from Good Morning America.   www.youtube.com/watch?v=ebk0MIFxk8o

For further encouragement, visit one of her websites:  www.jenniferrothschild.com  or www.womensministry.net.  You will also be able to read her story as printed in Decision Magazine from the Billy Graham link on her home page.

May you be blessed this day.

Lawson

So many experience the holiday called Thanksgiving.  I am sure there was joy with family, food, and football! I am confident there was a special moment of thankfulness for blessings as you gathered to eat.  But, hopefully, the day of Thanksgiving is not the only time we are grateful.  Thankfulness should be a way of life.  In a past thanksgiving season I shared the following.  I think it is a good reminder, and something we have spent several weeks talking about at church.

In my book, Thankful. I related a story told about my grandmother at her funeral.  My Grandmother Jolly (Feisty Lady www.lawsonjolly.com/2010/03/23) was well into her nineties and lived alone.  She was an extremely active lady  until her death.  She enjoyed social life and civic involvement.

One night when she was home, the pastor and his wife from the church knocked at the door.  As my grandmother opened the door, the pastor and his wife greeted her as they held a large bowl that was covered.  The pastor told her that they were home preparing to have some hot popcorn.  He remarked to his wife that Mrs. Jolly would perhaps enjoy some of it.  So they placed the popcorn in a bowl and covered it to maintain the heat.

My grandmother welcomed them into her home and they sat together and shared the popcorn.  The pastor remarked in his message at the funeral how much Mrs. Jolly thanked them.  She expressed her thankfulness again and again to them that evening.

He remarked that what he knew of my grandmother was that she had an attitude of gratitude.

An attitude of gratitude!  That’s what I need, and I imagine that it is a need of most people.  I want to develop a committed attitude of gratitude toward my Heavenly Father.  Although the story of my grandmother reveals a spirit of thankfulness toward other people, it certainly could be a parable of the spirit we should have toward God.

Gratitude expressed is not for a day in November . . . but a lifestyle!  May the spirit of thankfulness reign in our lives!

” . . . be thankful.”  (Colossians 3:15)  ” . . . and overflow with thankfulness.”  (Colossians 2:7)  “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.”  (Psalm 118:1)  “O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever.”  (Psalm 30:12)

Lawson

Most people in America know of the Duggar family.  They are the focus of the television program 19 Kids and Counting.  This is a reality show that features a family from Arkansas.  It is true — there are 19 kids!  The numbers begin to spread, however.  Oldest son, Josh is married and they have a child.  And just recently, Michelle and Jim Bob announced to the kids, and later on television, “Number 20 is on the way!”

That’s right!  To add to the 10 boys and 9 girls, there will be another. I suppose the television program will have to change — 20 Kids and Counting!  We had the privilege recently to have dinner with this remarkable couple and their children.  They are down-to-earth people with solid values and commitments.  They are really like folks that you would have gone to school with.  I describe their dating and courtship as cheerleader and church boy!  They have such a fascinating story of how they began to date.  From the early dates of their courtship, God was the pivot.

They have truly sought to have their lives under the leadership of God.  To spend time with them would convince you that they are submissive to His authority.  The testimony through the lives of their children bears further evidence that submission to God’s will has produced wonderful results.  The children are so emotionally healthy, stable, personable, and loving that only the power of God in such a large family could produce such.  The children truly love and respect one another.  They bear a wonderful witness to what is possible in families.

The Duggar family was the featured guests at a Fresh Grounded Faith event, hosted by our daughter, Jennifer Rothschild.  The children performed.  All the children, with the exception of the three youngest (but their day is coming) play the violin.  The violins are different sizes according to their size!  They all likewise sing!  Again, one is impressed with the children.  There are those who criticize this family for the number of children.  The family is ridiculed at times for allowing God to determine the number of children born to Michelle and Jim Bob.

I am a strong defender of this family.  Although I know their faith and commitment to daily walk with the Lord has produced such wonderful children, I would ask folks to look at this family as a model.  Leave faith out of it — which would be a mistake — but look at the family and how it functions.  I believe the parenting skills of Michelle and Jim Bob, the responsibility that the children express, the unity of the family, and the respect shown between children and parents, is a great model for American families.

While many are greatly concerned with the arrival of the next child, Michelle has a trust and commitment.  She does not fear.  She is surrendered to the care and guidance of Her Heavenly Father.  Commitment to Christ is the controlling fact in all that Michelle and Jim Bob do.  I was also struck about how they have followed biblical principles in the management of finances and possessions.  They believe in being debt-free, and they are!

As dinner began to be finished, Jim Bob and I talked about names for the coming arrival.  If you know the family, you are aware that all the names for the 19 children begin with the letter J.   I thought that I could make a contribution for a name.  They already had a Jennifer and Jill.  So I suggested other names in our family, like Judith, Justine, and Juliet.  Jim Bob listened, politely, but I think they have already thought of a name.  But wait, all of those are names for girls!  What if it is a boy?  He was silent.  I said, “What about Jolly?”  He smiled and said, “Not bad!”  At least it told me they hadn’t selected a boy’s name.  Well, I guess I will have to wait until Spring!

The film crew from The Learning Channel was there.  Some of the footage will be on a show next season.  Don’t miss the interview by Jennifer.  You will see the authenticity of this remarkable family.  And if they come to visit us, we will let you know!  But we have become concerned.  What if they really do take us up on our invitation?

Getting to know this family, it behooves me to strongly recommend that Christ be the focal point of your life and family.  He does make the difference.  God knows how to develop a family.  After all, He did write the book on marriage and family!  Read the Bible . . . ask for His guidance . . . and then follow His way!

Lawson

There is a place where a string seems to draw the years together.  I thought the other day about such a place.  It is Emory University.

Emory University, located in Dekalb County, Georgia,was founded in 1836 in Oxford, Georgia.  A strong Methodist college with a commitment to be an educational institution of high standards, it would move to the Atlanta area in 1915 to incorporate medical and dental schools.

My life truly began on the campus of Emory University at the University hospital.  Though the address of the University is now listed as Atlanta, my birth certificate reads “Emory University, Georgia.”  The years following would find me often on the campus.

To my recollection, the next time I was to be in the hospital at Emory was following an automobile accident.  Those were days when there were no emergency services.  A doctor and his wife stopped at the scene.  They were from South Carolina and on their way to a medical convention at Emory.  When he asked me if I knew the hospital, I responded, “I was born there.”  This kind couple drove me to the hospital and waited until my parents arrived.  I was not frightened to be alone as I felt Emory was part of my life.

My next bead in the string was participating in a science fair held at the University.  As a high school student, I entered the state science fair with my project.  We were required to stay with our project throughout the fair which lasted several days.  I recall feeling at home on campus and would go to “Dooley’s Den.”  This was the center of activity and the place for snacks.   Later this would be a real “hang-out” for me.

As a high school debater, most district and state debates were held on the Emory University campus.  Again, this was a place where I had confidence and felt it was truly part of my life.  I often wondered if being born on this campus brought some connection!

Toward the close of my senior year in high school I was hospitalized and had surgery for a kidney stone.  You guessed it –it was at Emory University Hospital where I was born.  I remember well that several nurses and others exclaimed that I was one of few patients they had who had been born in the hospital.  But the story continues.

At graduation from high school, I received a scholarship to Emory University.  I had not particularly considered going to college there — I had actually anticipated going to a college in another state.  But when the scholarship was offered for six years as long as I proved myself academically, how could I not accept it?   Being a recipient of this gift — and the opportunity to choose a vocation that I saw as profitable at that point in my life — I chose dental school.  But that is another story!

It was a joy to be a freshman on the campus that I knew so well.  I felt it gave me an edge socially over most of the other students.  With all the joy of being a student there, my immaturity did not seize the privilege given to me.  It was not long before the aura of college –even Emory University — waned, and I dropped out.  It was not Emory University that I turned my back on, but on responsibility and commitment.

Though it would be several years, I would return to this place that was such a part of my life.  Several years later I would finish college at another institution, and some seven years after that, I returned to Emory University as a graduate student. It was a different story this time. Basically recruited to be a graduate student at the age of 31, I had the privilege to be involved in the University attempting to regain its reputation after the national publicity that ensued from Dr. Thomas J.J. Altizer with his proclamation,  ”God is Dead.”  Again, there was joy to be part of an institution that had touched my life in so many ways.

When our youngest son entered college– yes, it was Emory University.  With his life involved there, our lives were committed also as we would regularly visit the campus. Although we lived in another state, I would return a few years later for consultations and treatment from a rare illness as Emory had become a renowned research facility.  I have spent no time on the campus since, but time can never erase from my life and memory that place known as Emory University.  Emory University is definitely a part of my life.

As I write these memories, I am struck with the value of such institutions in our lives.  Many of us recall an elementary or high school, a college, or a hospital that has been in and out of our lives from time to time.  For many of these institutions, we need to be grateful for the impact they have had on our lives.

With many such places, I assure you the most valuable and cherished institution in the world is the church!  Never could I begin to recount the memories and value of the church in my life.  It has truly changed my life in every area. The church is different from all other institutions.  No other institution can compete with it in shaping our lives.  If you are not part of the church, I urge you to check it out.  It will make a profound difference in you.

Lawson