Life’s Lessons Can Be Hard

My first experience with the death of someone my age was when I was 10 years old. We were members of First Baptist Church in High Point, NC. If the doors were open, we were there. Church was fun, but not for the reasons you are thinking. You see, my friends and I knew every hiding spot in the church, and FBC had some big buildings. It was an awesome place to play hide and seek and we were the masters!

There was a couple in the church named Smithenson, who served as foster parents. Although I did not have an appreciation for them at the time, I have since learned to have a deep appreciation for anyone who reaches out to children in need. The Smithensons exemplified the heart of God by loving unwanted or neglected children. The Smithensons always had a house full of kids and they were always at church. Usually, they would fit right in.

Well, it was a Wednesday night. We did our usual stuff… ate dinner, had Royal Ambassadors, then came the real reason for church – playing hide and seek.
The Smithensons had a new kid. He was my age. We had fun as usual. We ran and we played. But this night the new kid and I decided to have a wrestling match. After all, didn’t we have to decide who was the best? Wrestling was usually the “choice of weapons.” (Yes ladies, that male thing begins early in life!)

Well, I won… but in retrospect I wish I hadn’t. It really embarrassed the new kid and I was kind of mean about the whole thing. I gloated. In fact, it sort of turned into a little fight. I figured that the new kid and I would probably not become very close friends.

It was a few weeks later and we were having a RA camping trip to Camp Caraway. It was south of High Point about 30 or 40 minutes. It was a cool place… a medium size mountain, lots of hiking trails and a nice lake. We would stay in tents. Camp Caraway has since been well developed into a conference center, hotel rooms, cabins… the works.

I don’t remember why, but I decided not to go on the camping trip. (I probably was sick. In fact that may have been the time I had mono.) I still have mixed emotions about that decision.

One of the leaders of the camping trip was a guy named Cecil. Cecil was “The Man.” He was a Green Beret. In fact he was the karate instructor for Green Berets at Fort Bragg. Needless to say, he had our complete attention and we NEVER talked back. He drove a motorcycle and wore really cool boots.

Now on the camping trip, Cecil took the new kid in a canoe for a little ride. The rest of the guys were swimming off the dock. The kid stood up in the canoe. Cecil told him to sit down, but he didn’t. He was having too much fun. That moment of disobedience cost him his life.

Without warning the canoe flipped. It sent both of them into the water. The canoe apparently hit the kid in the head and knocked him out and he sunk to the bottom of the lake… remember, this was back in the day when we didn’t even think about life jackets.

Unfortunately, Cecil had on his boots. As he searched for the kid, his boots filled with water and began to take him under. He struggled ashore to get his boots off and immediately went back in to find the kid. All the other men were searching as well. He could not be found.

The rescue team arrived and dragged the lake. His body was found after about an hour.

I remember a picture in the paper… Cecil sitting on the side of the lake, his head in his hands leaning on top of his knees. With all of his Green Beret skills and training… he couldn’t save a 10 year old boy.

When I was told of the accident, all I could think of was the wrestling match and how I embarrassed the new kid.

At the funeral, I remember looking at him in the casket… it was the fist time I saw a dead person. It didn’t seem real. He didn’t look right. I remember the Smithensons being broken-hearted. I remember wanting to be any place but there.

After the funeral, we were driving home in the car. I sat in the back. Dad wanted to stop by his parent’s house, but Mom and I stayed in the car. I could not take it any more. I began to cry. I had never cried for someone who had died before that moment. I cried hard. Mom asked me if I was upset about the drowning. I said yes. But I didn’t dare tell her about my shame.

I didn’t understand. Why did this happen? Why wasn’t I nicer to him? Why didn’t he sit down? Why was Cecil wearing his boots? Why would God allow this to happen to a kid who already had a tough life in that his parents didn’t want him? Why him and not me? Why wasn’t I there? Could I have made a difference?

That event changed my life… it changed how I looked at people. It changed how I treated people. It changed how I cared about the unfortunate. Since the drowning, every time I see someone being picked on, I quickly step in to defend. I have loved kids every since.

I have remembered all these details of the death of a 10 year old. But there is one detail I can not remember… his name. Why have I not been able to remember the most important piece of information… his name? Maybe it hurt too much to know that I missed being nice to someone who didn’t know he had only a few weeks to live. I may never understand. I haven’t thought about it in a long time.

But what I do know is that I have a brother in Christ waiting for me in heaven… I will know his name then… we might even have a friendly wrestling match… I’m sure he will win.

God uses life events, both good and bad, to shape us and mold us. He is Lord and He is sovereign. I really can trust Him even when nothing makes sense.

What’s your story?

Sunday Worship

Let me tell you what I thought of the worship this past Sunday. Wonderful. Genuine. Heartfelt. God honoring. Passionate. His Spirit was with us. The name of Jesus was lifted high. We were drawn into His presence! This is becoming the norm for Gateway.

As I thought of your worship, I was reminded of Psalms 101.

I will sing of your love and justice, Lord. I will praise you with songs.

If that is the true desire of your worship and praise, then practice the rest of Psalm 101. Let it become the standard of your life. The following is an abbreviated version:

… I will be careful to live a blameless life. (Christ-likeness)
… I will lead a life of integrity in my own home. (Integrity begins in the home!)
… I will refuse to look at anything vile and vulgar. (TV, movies, internet, magazines…)
… I hate all who deal crookedly. (Refuse to compromise your convictions in order to make a sale)
… I will reject perverse ideas. (Test everything by the Word of God)
… (I will) stay away from every evil. (Definition of every evil: EVERY EVIL)
… I will not tolerate people who slander their neighbors. (Do not participate in gossip)
… I will not endure conceit and pride. (Beginning with yourself)
… I will search for faithful people to be my companions. (Be careful who you choose to be your friends for they will influence your life)

Now go and do it… then come prepared to WORSHIP on Sunday!!!

*(words in parenthesis are my own words)

Thoughts on Sunday

I love our worship time at Gateway. I am seeing more and more individuals engaging in worship in all three services. Cory and Judd are doing a fantastic job in directing our hearts into the presence of Holy God.

I have a confession to make. It is very difficult for me to get into worship on Sunday. The simple truth is I like to talk to as many people as possible. Since Sunday morning is the one time I get to see most of you… well… I talk to one person, then another, then someone walks up to me, then I see someone else, then I notice someone new… on and on.

The problem is I don’t worship and I distract your worship… not to mention that I set a bad example for you.

So I am learning to behave myself and stay on the front row and focus on the words I am singing. If you see me get some happy feet, well, just hold your comments to yourself.

On Sunday we began our series on the Christian Declaration of Independence – Paul’s letter to the churches in Galatia. A great question that comes from Galatians – whose truth are you going to listen to? Man’s or God’s? Only one truth can save…

The message of Galatians is the message of the Christian’s spiritual freedom. It’s been called the Magna Carta of spiritual liberty; the battle cry of the Reformation.

Jesus said in Matthew:

“You can enter God’s Kingdom only through the narrow gate. The highway to hell is broad, and its gate is wide for the many who choose that way. But the gateway to life is very narrow and the road is difficult, and only a few ever find it.” (Mt 7:13-14)

Of this verse, Oswald Chambers said:

If we are going to live as disciples of Jesus, we have to remember that all noble things are difficult. The Christian life is gloriously difficult, but the difficulty of it does not make us faint and cave in, it rouses us up to overcome. Do we so appreciate the marvelous salvation of Jesus Christ that we are our utmost for His highest? (O. Chambers. My Utmost for His Highest. Grand Rapids)

Let’s us journey together on this gloriously difficult road!

Galatians 1:11-24 this Sunday.

Never Forget – Our Freedom Came at a Price

While on vacation last week at Pawley’s Island, Mary and I had some friends in for the week from California, Mary and Harold Hunt. Mary and my Mary traveled all over the USA participating in Aspiring Women conferences. Mary Hunt was one of the main speakers and my Mary was part of the worship team. They connected and became fast friends. Harold and I decided to test out the friendship thing because of our wives. We found that we had a similar interest. We both love history.

So a few years ago, we decided to do some “dry run” vacations. We spent time in their home and they spent time in our home. Since Harold is a big Civil War buff, I took him to Charleston to see the confederate submarine Hunley. Awesome.

Our “dry runs” were a great success. So we decided to try Europe. Harold wanted to see World War II sites. Since I had traveled to many of the sites, I put together a two week trip of France, Germany and Austria. We walked along the beaches at Normandy where the D-Day invasion began. We went through German gun emplacements and stood along the cliffs of Pointe-Du-Hoc. We walked broken-hearted through Dachau, the longest running concentration camp of World War II.

We stood silently among the graves at the Normandy American Cemetery. Over 172 acres, there are 9,387 burials of US service men and women. Of this number, some 307 are unknowns. All the graves face westward towards the United States. There are three Medal of Honor winners. Two sons of President Theodore Roosevelt buried side by side – one from World War I and the other from World War II (he is the only WW I soldier buried at Normandy). In addition, there are 33 pairs of brothers buried side by side, including the Niland brothers. They were the inspiration for the movie “Saving Private Ryan.”

So now that brings us to last week at Pawley’s Island.

One day Harold and I decided to explore Georgetown, SC. I have spent very little time in Georgetown… I think it was probably the odor of the paper mill that did it for me. But we had a great day of exploring.

We checked a map guide and found that there was a church whose cemetery had graves dating back to the Revolutionary War. The Prince George Winyah Episcopal Church was build around 1750 with old brick from British ships' ballasts. Prince George Church is one of the few original church buildings in South Carolina dating to the colonial period that is still in use today.

During our Revolutionary War, the British held Georgetown and used the church as a horse stable. Between Georgetown and Charleston is the area that Francis Marion, the Swamp Fox, harassed the British.

As I was walking through the cemetery, I thought of all the men and women who died for our freedom as a nation. My heart was full of deep appreciation. How is it that I can view my freedom so casually when so many gave their lives for that freedom? I must never forget those brave individuals who gave their lives creating a place called the United States of America.

As my heart turns towards the cross of Jesus, I ask the same question. How can I view my freedom in Christ so casually when Jesus gave his very life for my freedom?

Jesus paid it all
All to Him I owe
Sin had left a crimson stain
He washed it white as snow

Don’t let anyone take away your freedom in Christ!