Let There Be Light

   After I posted yesterday, I had the feeling that there was something wrong. Not particularly what my thoughts were, and I can certainly be in error on a lot of things, but there was a feeling of incompleteness, something more to be said.

   It was that way this morning, that feeling was still there as I got up earlier than usual and had some time to not only walk, but spend some time in reading. The theme of my Bible reading and some other articles that sprung up from that showed me why my feelings were so.

   I do believe that recent events, not only those of the past week, but the trend of happenings in our country shows a need to be concerned.

   But not fearful…

   If the trend continues, and the world out there is more antagonistic to the church, Christians will have the opportunity to show those around us what true following Christ looks like. We are called to be salt and light in the world, and those characteristics will be very noticeable as the world looks increasing different.

   We don't need to be mad at the world and the decisions made by those in power, but show the fruits of the Spirit, love, joy, peace, gentleness, self control...

   If we truly want to be Christ followers that live to make a difference, and if we want to ask the question "What would Jesus do?", the lines may not be so blurry as when the world likes us, or at least tolerates us.

   What we need is wisdom and power, but not just those qualities. The key is Godly Wisdom and God's Power.

   I read Romans 1 this morning, Paul's letter to those living in the seat of the Empire's power. He outlines the moral decline that takes place when a country takes God out of the equation. Scary…

   While I definitely want the best for our land, and pray that we, as a nation, will turn back to God, I also want to be faithful to the One who calls us.

   Let There Be Light

Same Pictures, Another Take...

   I know it may be dangerous to wake up with a thought on my mind, and then try to weave a blog post out of that.

   It may also be unwise to use the same pictures from other posts to craft a narrative about a controversial subject, but again, there may be a reason why these pictures are still on my desktop, perhaps waiting for another use, illustrating another risky conclusion.

   It was early when I woke up, still dark outside, but a time to think, to consider, to pray, and maybe to write. It was quiet, but the headline of the Florida Times Union was not silent, as it lay in the driveway of a house on my route, FUNDAMENTAL RIGHT it screamed, and I knew what it was talking about.

   The sunrise was coming, right on schedule. All over, people were watching it come up on another new day.

   What were they thinking about? Was this one dreading what might happen today? Was he looking expectantly for a dawn of blessing? What was the future?

   Did the future look like this building? People passing by it on the road, commenting on the sign, or the way the sun lit it up, seeing it as a relic of the past, but with little relevance for today, old fashioned and only good for nostalgic snapshots. What is an apiary anyway?

   But there was another building on our route the other day, one built in the same time period, that was still in use, performing the same functions as it had over all these years.

   One building irrelevant in the course of daily life, the other still serving.

   One building, and its people, still vibrant and blessed. One not.

   One making a difference, one relegated to the scrap pile of history.

   A lesson for America. I sure hope so.

   The slippery slope just got a bit more….

   All over our great country tomorrow, men and women, boys and girls will bow their heads and repeat a prayer of Jesus, and when they get to the line that states "Thy Will Be Done", I pray that we will all be ready for it.

   Congress and the Supreme Court are not the solution, Christian people are…

   "If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land."

   Which of the buildings above will be our symbol and denote our land?

 

 

 

Racist: Was I…Am I?

   From Dictionary.Com, a definition of Racism:

   noun

1.

a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human/racial groups determine cultural or individual achievement, usuallyinvolving the idea that one's own race is superior and has the right to dominate others or that a particular racial group is inferior to the others.

   Since yesterday morning, I have been thinking over this word, and looking back at my life over these 70+ years, thinking about where I have been and where I am right now on this highly charged subject.

   Growing up in the South as a white boy, then teen and finally adult, anything referenced on this subject was almost always black/white. True, we knew about other races, but these were the people that we lived with, and around, all our lives.

   We had a black maid. Her name was Flossie, and she came to our home, from her part of town, on the bus and went back there the same way. As I recall, she was paid to wash, iron and clean. That was who she was, and we kids thought nothing about the arrangement. A lot of the families that we knew had the same situation.

   We lived in a section of Chattanooga, I guess just a plain old middle class section. An area of older homes, but well kept up, and, of course, not racially integrated. I remember that there was a "big" section of woods behind our house, and, if we went through that area to the west, we would come to a "colored" settlement on the other side. These folks were not "good" or "bad" or "anything", just different.

   There were no blacks in our grammar school, nor junior high, nor even our private high school. There just were not. They had their own schools, and we had no thoughts of their schools being any different than ours, they were just "theirs".

   Blacks rode in the back of the bus, had their own churches and sections of town. This was what they "wanted" and felt "comfortable" in. This was "normal".

   Growing up in that environment, I just never thought much about it. It was just the way it was. If I saw any inequity, I did not dwell on it, just accepted it.

   Even as a young adult, with a growing family, my sense of fairness, did not have race on its radar screen. If our "colored" brethren wanted to move out of the downtown blight, that might be OK, but not in our neighborhood. After all, we had our property values to think about and did not need the crime that would accompany "them".

   Even our church had contingency plan if "those" black agitators came one Sunday to "sit in" the service. I was even a part of that plan.

   When Martin Luther King was shot in Memphis in 1968, our first thoughts were not about racism or the life of the black folk around us, it was how the possible coming riots would affect our safety.

   This was our life. This was normal. All our friends, our co-workers, our church family seemed to feel the same way. After all, we were not prejudiced, we knew some colored people, we actually liked and got along with them. We employed them and treated them good. We just did not know them particularly well.

   Fast forward to 2015. Have I changed in attitude or conviction?

   I taught and coached black kids in school and sit next to black men and women in church. I am friendly, and I try not to discriminate.

   Back in those earlier days, my concern was for me, mine and ours.

   Even now, in my more accepting attitudes, is it any different, really?

   Searching to know the "real" me.

   And praying to God for help.

 

 

Couldn't Pass This Up...

   The other day I posted a few words on our experience at Gardi, with its pictures of the Apiary and Fancy Honey building. This was an adjunct to our reason for this trip, which was to look at and photograph the church at Mt. Pleasant.

   So here it is:

                           The Akin Memorial Methodist Church

   This church building is 123 years old, and, although I do like these old buildings, the people that were a part of its past and present are the continuing story line.

   This church, by that term I mean the people, is active and up to date. They even have their own Facebook page, and I note that there is a lot going on. As I scanned the listings on this page, I noticed that one of their former pastors was Rev. Don Proctor, a minister I worked with in the Ware State Prison on our Kairos weekends.

   Small world, for sure.

   From the website Historic Rural Churches of GA, I copied this information:

Akin Methodist   Circa 1892

Akin Memorial United Methodist Church is located in the southern section of Wayne County. Its interior is one of the loveliest we have seen among the simpler country churches we explore. This church has stood for over a century as a place for men, women, boys and girls to worship, be taught and inspired to live better lives. Lawrence Randall Akin erected the building, built of virgin heart pine lumber in 1892. It was dedicated as  Mt. Pleasant Methodist Church.

Mr. Akin had moved to Mt. Pleasant from Camden County as a young boy. In 1882, he met Jane Brown, also from Camden County, when she came to visit his mother. Two years later on May 17, 1884, they were married. After the honeymoon, they returned to live in Mt. Pleasant and start their family. Lawrence had already told everyone he wanted twelve children. He got his wish and twelve were born in less than 23 years. Lawrence Akin was a very conservative lumber and turpentine man, a director of the First National Bank of Brunswick, a senator, a legislator, a family man, a good husband, good father and a faithful church attendee… even to the point of building his own church at Mt. Pleasant.

One of the reasons this church was built was because Mr. Akin already had a big family and knew that it would eventually get bigger and he was too embarrassed to take such a large family into the Methodist Church in Brunswick. The congregation was made up of the people who worked in the lumber mill, the commissary, the train station and even neighbors from Everett City and Gardi. A visiting preacher from Jesup would come down every Sunday to hold the service each week.

Many pastors served the church for the first half-century and the church was on several different circuits or charges in Wayne, Glynn, and Mclntosh Counties. The church served the little town and community of Mt. Pleasant for about half a century. The main business of the section, saw milling, slowly dwindled in the 1920’s due to bad land management practices and over-cutting. Then the mill was closed and Mt. Pleasant began its decline into obscurity. The church, both spiritually and physically, was in much need of repair. In 1940-1942, about six people worshiped here. The Methodist Conference was seriously considering closing the old church.

Several years before this, Brunswick Pulp and Paper Co. had bought the land and holdings at Mt. Pleasant. Old buildings were torn down and cleared away. New ones were built and some new families moved in. At this time, Rev. John Swain (Retired) came over from Darien once a month and held an afternoon service. Very soon, ways and means were sought to restore the church building. Mrs. Edith Mclntosh, one of the other members, was interested and contacted some members of the Akin family for financial help and they became involved as well. Mrs. Ruth Akin Hightower, with other members of the family, had the church restored and repaired. The church was was appropriately renamed in honor of Lawrence Akin at that time.

The above is from the local church history.  We can only add our sincere appreciation to all who participated in the re-birth of this magnificent example of a historic rural church in the Georgia pineywoods.  Thank you for all you do for her and for us.

   It makes me happy when I see these older rural church still in God's business., blessing others and being blessed in this work.

 

Do Buildings Really Call Out?

   Nothing Profound, Just Interesting (to me, anyway)

   Yesterday, we made a trip. Just an afternoon out, in the air condoning of the car, out of the heat that read 100 on the car gauge, to the metropolis of Gardi, right up Hwy. 341 from Brunswick, GA, just east of Jesup, the county seat of Wayne County.

   There is an old abandoned building sitting on the north side of the highway that I have passed many times, a structure that was calling my name.

   I had seen a photograph of an old Methodist Church in the Mt. Pleasant community (a story for another time, maybe), but I missed the turnoff. Realizing my error, a few miles up the highway, I remembered this building, so we just kept on, even though not on my original route, it could not be but a few miles, and we were making great time.

   From the Internet: A building built about 1900, originally a post office and general store, it was purchased around 1941 and turned into an Apiary and a store for the honey it produced.

   I search the internet for more, but what do I find?

   I find that so many people have posted this picture and talked about the shot, that I can't even read them all right now. Blogs galore, with great pictures, interesting comments, blogs that I did not even know existed till now.

   And I thought I was more original than that.

   Oh Well, I guess this place called more names than mine, but I'm glad that I heard it, too.

   Another adventure.

Where Do I Look?

   When I don't even know what time it is, where do I look?

   When I walk down an unfamiliar road in those times before the sun can light my way, where do I look for guidance and hope?

   When I walk into a town where I do not know anyone, where do I look?

   Even in the midst of death, in a strange cemetery, which way am I called to look?

   In a book I was reading the other night, the author puts his character in the midst of all these places, and, as he is becoming increasingly frustrated, someone tells him to Look Up.

   In Psalm 121, the author begins:

"I lift up my eyes…."

   Looking up, figuratively and spiritually, is the answer.

   Look Up

Why Can't I…?

   This past Sunday morning, on my way to church, I turned my car out onto the main road and headed south. On the east side of the street, I noticed a woman jogging down the bike path. My first thought was, "Man, I used to do that all the time and really enjoyed the feeling I got from that activity".

   Then my thoughts became, "I sure wish I could still do that."

   Almost immediately my thought turned to "Don't let your mind dwell on the things that you can't do anymore, after all look at your age, consider the things that you can still do".

   For the rest of my drive to church, I mentally tried to list the many things that were still in my ability to do. I thought of things I had personally seen over the past few days, activities that others could not do anymore.

   The ability to read

   The ability to walk

   The ability to talk

   The ability to think

   When I got to the service that morning, I even wrote in the margin of my bulletin, the phrase "not what I cannot do, but what I can".

   Each morning this week, as I have awakened and got up, that thought has been there. As I have walked in the cool of the new day, it was there.

   Even this morning, as I walked in our old neighborhood, as I passed a house with a pickup truck parked in the drive, I thought of the lady who lived there, a lady I did not know, but knew about. That truck was a symbol of her late husband, a man who had recently passed away. There are a lot of things she cannot do anymore, with him.

   Psalm 31:15 states:

   "My times are in your hands"

   Ecclesiastes 3 is full of verses on times:

   "a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to …

    a time to …"

   Bemoaning what I can't do is not the way to go. It is like the slogging through a muddy swamp.

   God help me to celebrate what I can do, and to redeem the times that are left in my life with a care for others and service for You.

   After all, My life (and my circumstances) are in Your hand.

   Another sunrise signals a new time to …

   And I am grateful and challenged at the same time.

A New Set of Eyes

   Mayre's niece is visiting our Island this week with a friend. On Monday evening we took them over to Jekyll to eat supper at Driftwood Bistro, one of our favorites.

   After supper we drove around, just looking at what had been happening over there in the past few months. We were interested in the new buildings going up and the old ones that had disappeared, the property just awaiting for new ones.

   But the visitors from Chattanooga were much more interested in the natural beauty of the island. From the deer roaming around the historical hotel to the old oak trees at Driftwood Beach, there were many oohs and aahs.

   And like the typical tourist, there were pictures on the cell phone:

   I think Janet might have missed the snarling log:

   The sun was setting on the Jekyll Island Hotel, the landmark of the Island:

   And, while the girls were out looking for a bathroom, I found out what the view of the old hotel was through the eyes of a croquet ball, waiting behind a wicket:

   But one of the best parts of the evening, was hearing our visitors talk about the island and its many sights, both natural and man-made.

   We tend to take all of this for granted, because we have seen it all many times, but it is never exactly the same and good to see it through the eyes of one seeing these spots for the first time.

   We live in a great place.

   It is good to be grateful and appreciative.

   Thank You, God

   And then frozen yogurt for desert,  Caramel with Sea Salt, covered by Chocolate chips, sitting atop broken pieces of Waffle cone.

   Doesn't get much better than this...

Forgive Me….One More

   There was one town in Connecticut that seemed to personify what we figured an old, but still vibrant, town in New England would be.

   GUILFORD

   One friend here at home had suggested this town on the south coast of the state would be worthy of a visit. This town was settled in 1639, only 19 years after the Mayflower landed in Plymouth and is still an active spot today.

   Below are scenes from our 2 hour visit one Wednesday morning in May.

Oldest House in the state, 1639

Henry Whitfield, pastor and town founder, and owner of house above

Village Green, Congregational Church

Christ Episcopal Church

Lunch

True and good lemonade, too

Probably the only time my Birthday gift came from a hardware store

   And Color All Around

And, perhaps my favorite picture of the time there. Can anyone read the words in the reflection?

And what is it a reflection of?

Forgive Me, this town was just too good not to pass along…

Amen

History at Our Doorstep

   Please bear with one more short blog from the trip.

   While in Connecticut last week, our innkeeper informed me that about 1/8 of a mile to the north of our driveway up to the house with the big shower and picture window to the world, was a historical spot that we might enjoy:

   With this in-the-stone inscription:

   After some questions from my wife, I remembered an episode in the Ken Burns film study of the Civil War that explained John Brown.

   We looked at the story on film which included Brown's foray into Kansas and killing of 5 pro slavery settlers in Lawrence.

   But the more famous of Brown's calling of abolition took place at Harpers Ferry. After putting together his "army", and training them at a rented farm, his little band attempted to take over the federal arsenal at that river town, and arm the slaves to begin a slave rebellion.

   US Army troops, led by Robert E. Lee, ended this attempt and took Brown prisoner. After a trial in which he was charged and convicted of treason against the state of Virginia, he was hung in Charlestown in 1859.

   Brown' life and his death showed the North, and the South, the feelings of each side.

   The North treated Brown as a martyr, and the anti-slavery folks there were made to realize the strong defense of slavery from their countrymen in the South, while the South treated Brown as a criminal and cheered the hanging that followed the trial. The deep divisions of the two parts of this country were on full display.

   What better way to end this part of our trip than to go to Harpers Ferry, WV (it was in Virginia before WV became a state). We could have the whole John Brown life, from birth to death, in one travel day.

   From a visit to a place in CT, one that we did not even know existed, to another spot in another state, one that marked a watershed in North-South relations and feelings, we had our history lesson on the road.

   And we learned a little more about the Story of our Land.

   A Good Thing

3185.7 Miles

   Well, we're home:

   3185.7 Miles

   11 States

   Too many pictures to count

   A College Graduation (photos later)

   Memorial Day in Massachusetts

   Motels and Bed and Breakfast

   From Georgia to Maine

   Churches

   History

   Courthouses

   Family

   Old Stuff

   We did not know this, but it worked out for us.

   God Blessed us with great weather, no car problems, good health long the way and a lot of photo ops.

  And we are grateful people, Amen