Monthly Archives: October 2016

THE MURAL AT MATT’S MARKET

Biblical Truth, BMMC, Christian Discipleship, Master's Commission, , , , ,

for-god-so-lovedMike Slater stopped me in the church hallway right after service.  The year was 1998 and I had just preached a sermon entitled, “God’s Invasion of Love,” based on the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Philippians–

“Have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:  Who, being in very nature God,  did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross!”

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LIVING ATTACHED

Biblical Truth, BMMC, Christian Discipleship, Master's Commission, , , , , ,

attached One might think that “living attached” refers to the bond between one person, and another person, or a place, or a thing.  For the past 38 years I have lived happily attached to the most incredible lady in the world– my wife Peggy.  Yes, marriage is definitely “living attached,” and is a really great idea.  Some live attached  to their hometown, or to their farms, or to their pet Chihuahua.  Sadly, others seem to live helplessly attached to alcohol and drugs, and don’t seem to ever be able to shake it.  But Jesus gave new meaning to the term, living attached.  He actually said that it’s the only way to live.  John 15 tells us all about it.

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STORM PIT APOCALYPSE

Christian Discipleship, Humor, Small Town America, , , , , , ,

tornado-2

“I would hurry to my place of shelter, far from the tempest and storm.”  Psalm 55:8”

Does anyone remember the heyday of the storm pit?  Yes, in “tornado alley” (a swath stretching from Oklahoma to Georgia) the storm pit was a common sight, especially between the mid-1930’s and the mid-1960’s.  Around here they were normally dug into the side of a small hill, usually consisting of about six steps descending down into a 8′ x 8′ cinderblock-walled room.  Around the edge of the room were wooden benches, or sometimes a collection of ladder back chairs with cane-woven seats.    All storm pits had plenty of candles, matches, and perhaps a kerosene lamp.  Moms and Dads everywhere kept their eyes to the sky during stormy seasons of the year–  storm pits  needed to be used, and used often.

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MIRACLE AT SIX FLAGS

Biblical Truth, Christian Discipleship, Small Town America, , , , ,

log-flumeBeing a youth pastor was loads of fun. Peggy and I served as youth pastors for the first few years of our ministry together at Kingwood, and we still consider those early youth group friendships among our greatest treasures.  We always tried to use creativity and “outside the box” methods to appeal to young people, so that they could see and experience what it truly means to walk with Jesus.  Youth retreats, drama presentations, musicals, discipleship groups, and cutting edge evangelism ruled the day, but when God, in the midst of a routine youth group trip to Six Flags Over Georgia, threw in a real-life, bonafide MIRACLE among us, we learned a lesson we will never, ever forget.

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THE GREAT BATTLE OF BREWER’S CORNFIELD

Christian Discipleship, History, Humor, Small Town America, , , , , , ,

more-stalksThe coming of Autumn usually reminds me of one of the great military conflicts in history– the Great Battle of Brewer’s Cornfield.  No, neither Washington or Lee ever performed the amazing feat that two eleven-year-old boys did that fateful day in 1967.  Just behind the Sims house in Ashland stood a half-acre of corn owned by Thurmon Brewer– yes, the same Mr. Brewer that my blog readers met in a previous post (see “Speaking in Cursive,” May 2,2016).

The time was mid-November and the corn stalks were already brown and dry, waving in the fall wind like zombies arranged in neat death rows.  It didn’t take long for eleven-year-old imaginations to see the field as an entire legion of cruel Roman soldiers, marching shoulder to shoulder with plans to crush the women and children crouched within the walls of Fort Sims.  The only thing standing between the Legion of Death and victory was an alliance of two brave boys– Mark Sims and Walt Hill— protectors of all things good and decent.

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