PASTOR’S NOTE

                                       I did some work for old customers of mine this week, the Thurmans.  I have spoken of them before.  This elderly couple, both in their eighties now, have endeared themselves to me.  They met during the Second World War while they were both serving in the Navy, fell in love and married.  Captain Bud Thurman served until his retirement in 1975.  It has been my privilege to work for them on several occasions.  I count them as friends.  They have recently moved into an assisted living facility.  I was asked to do some work at their home of forty-some years in order to get it ready to sell.  They have not moved all of their belongings out of their old home and in order to do what had to be done, I found myself moving things around to clear a work area.  Among the stuff moved like a pool table, ping-pong table, weights and bench, treadmill and other fitness equipment, we moved a lot of personal paraphanelia:  pictures and plaques marking their days and experiences in the military, pictures of ships, destroyers and aircraft carriers. There were scenes of places around the world that I have never heard of.  There were mementos most certainly presented to them by the men and women who served under their command.  One collage was an artistic drawing of Captain Thurman and many of the important people he had met through his long career.  All of this may be just stuff to an outsider but to them these are a few of the things that mark the tracks of their lives.  When they are gone, these things will help their children to remember and will tell their story to their grandchildren and great grandchildren.  For me, it has enabled me to realize what a great couple they truly are and the sacrifices they willingly made for their country.  I wonder, what kind of tracks will we leave behind?  What mementos will there be to tell our story?  The question each of us should ask is:  are we living a story worthy of telling?  Are the mementos of our lives going to be such things as empty bottles, used needles, broken promises, ruined lives and unattained dreams?  Or, will there be such things as good memories, pictures of places and people we have loved, old useless but cherished gifts, love and honor?  The choice is yours.  You can decide right now which it will be.  What story are you leaving behind and what tracks have you made?  Stories are to be told and tracks are to be followed.  Will your story tell what you want heard?  Will your tracks lead those you love to a place you want them to be?

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Great Christian One-Liners 2nd Edition

more about “Great Christian One-Liners 2nd Edition“, posted with vodpod

 

There Is One ~ Michael W Smith

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Our Judeo-Christian Nation

Rep. Randy Forbes challenges President Obama’s recent assertions that we are no longer a Christian nation.

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A Tibute To My Dad

I often wish the congregation I now have the pleasure of pastoring had  been able to know my Father and had heard him preach.  They have missed so much by not knowing him.  Had they known him it would probably enabled them to know and understand me better.  My Dad, who has been gone over thirteen years now, was one of a kind.  A unique mixture of dignity and humility, sternness and compassion,  whose passion for his wife and family was only superseded by his passion for the word of God.  As a young man, he had broken through to an anointing by prayer, fasting and burying himself in the study of God’s word.  An anointing that most could only dream about.  Coupled with an indepth understanding of  Biblical doctrines and a phenomenal gift for quoting scriptures, he amazed and touched thousands throughout the southeast and mid-west.   Countless souls were swept into the kingdom through the powerful preaching of this committed man of  God.  Churches were started as a result of his evangelistic efforts and hundreds of ministries, young and old were inspired by the skill and passion of which he delivered the word.  My Dad never went anywhere without his Bible.  When I think of him one of the visions that come to mind is him sitting in his recliner with his Bible opened in his lap.  Yet, I never saw my Dad open his Bible when he stood in the pulpit to preach.  He would then humbly announce his text by saying, “I am reading from…”   What would follow was an amazing display of Biblical knowledge as he would in a single message would quote hundreds of verses and sometimes entire chapters.  As a result, the altars would fill up and lives were changed.  To thousands he was a spiritual father, a mentor,  the walking bible, a teacher, prophet, the ultimate evangelist.  To me he was Dad.  As a child I both feared and loved him.  As a teenager I did not understand him.  As a young man trying to make my own way in the ministry, I resisted being like him.  As I grew in my own ministry I found myself embracing what he was and what he stood for.  Now as a senior minister I long for him and what he had in God.  He told me once when I was just eighteen and trying to spread my wings as  a preacher, “Son,” he said, “I was good for my generation, but you will have to better to reach your generation.  So if you are not planning on being better than me, then don’t even start.”  You may, if you wish, share in that challenge.   It is good advice for all of us.  I was forty-two when my Father died.  He died at home after a long illness in his own bed.  I was there.  I had come in to visit and spend  New Years with him and Mom.  The night he died I had helped him get dressed for bed and get his oxygen situated.  Standing next to his bed he put both hands on my shoulders and said, “Son, you are the greatest young preacher I have ever heard.”  Now that, I can’t share with you.  It was only for me. Why?  Because he is my Dad.

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Memorial Day

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Check out my Slide Show!