A Christmas Blessing

             For a seven-week stretch in mid-October to November 2009, I had the opportunity to teach basketball lessons to the kids at the Murphy House just outside of Jasper.  The Murphy House is not only a house—there is a large study room, fully-functional kitchen, toy room, and meeting room—it is an after-school program for kids with behavioral and emotional problems.  I was called on to teach the Murphy House kids the fundamentals of basketball for forty-five minutes a week. 

            We had around twenty kids to participate in the program.   Each week, I would teach a different skill, and conclude the instruction with a brief “life takeaway.”  These were very simple lessons of life—have focus, read a book, study hard—yet I felt as if these kids weren’t learning these things at home and they were life lessons that were worth repeating. 

            At times, it was very difficult for them to pay attention in drills and simply follow instructions.  I often had to call them out and correct their behavior.  Some of the kids couldn’t pay attention, even for five seconds.  Most of them had never even shot a basketball, much less executed a fundamentally-sound lay-up. 

            I couldn’t imagine what home life was like for some of these children.  These weren’t children who were raised in the most affluent Beverly Hills home—they were country children who grew up in the sordid sections of Walker County.  Some of them wore the same outfit every week.  Others struggled with proper English.  But I noticed two distinct things that were prevalent among every child there. 

            First, every child wanted my attention.  They would often say, “Hey coach, look at this…I can dribble” or “Hey coach, watch this shot” or “Hey coach, I can make it from here.”  They had a certain thirst for recognition and approval.  As human beings, we all seek out the approval of others when we perform.

            Secondly, I noticed that all of the children there had a heart of gold.  There was something special and sweet about each one of them.   They were good children, capable children, yet children that needed some encouragement.  I tried my best to encourage them and praise them when they did well. 

            It was the last session of the camp, and I was standing in front of the huddled mass of children.  I finished our lesson, and, one by one, each child started asking me if I was going to come back.  I promised them that I would come back soon, and we said our goodbyes. 

            About a month had passed and I was working in my law office in Jasper.  I was about to go to lunch and I walked out and checked the mail box.  I found a package inside addressed to Coach Al Blanton.  Unsure of its contents, I opened the manila envelope and found several Christmas cards, addressed to me.  It was from the Murphy House kids.  Each child had sent me their own, personalized Christmas cards.  Some of them nearly broke my heart.  I would like to share a few with you at this time.

Thank you for teaching me to play basketball now I’m playing basketball at a church.  Thank you.

To Coach Al for Aaron.

I miss you Coach Al

Heyy, Coach Al

It’s been awhile since we’ve seen you

thanks for all the things you taught us.

Just to let you know I have been practicing.

thanks again and have a great holiday. 

Love always/Jackie

You are the best coach ever

Have a Great Christmas

            After I read all of the cards, I sat at my desk and was overwhelmed with joy and appreciation.  That was so sweet of them to do that, I thought.  I will never forget those kids.This is what Christmas is all about.

            I lounged back in my office chair and smiled as a tear rolled down my face.  My job as their basketball coach was to enrich them and in some small way, be a blessing to them.  But it was I who received the greatest blessing—the heart of a child. 

No Greater Love

            Why is it so difficult for us to accept the fact that God loves us?  We are reminded time and time again through the Holy Scriptures of the depth and breadth of God's love for his children.  I'd like to take some time this morning and examine God's love as discussed in the Bible. 

1. Who does God love? 

a. The World

            John 3:16, " For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." 

b. Us (The Children of God)

            John 16:27 "No, the Father himself loves you because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God."

            Ephesians 2:4-5 "But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved." 

            2 Thessalonians 2:16  "May our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope.."

            1 John 3:1 "See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!"

2. How does God demonstrate his love?   

a. By being faithful and keeping his promises

            Deuteronomy 7:9 "Know therefore that the LORD thy God, he is God, the faithful God, which keepeth covenant and mercy with them that love him and keep his commandments to a thousand generations." 

b. By sending his son when we don't deserve it

            1 John 4:9 "This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him."

c. By exhibiting an unfailing and enduring love

            Psalm 36:7 "How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!" 
            Psalm 136:2 "Give thanks to the God of gods. His love endures forever." 

d. By giving us the Holy Spirit

            Romans 5:5 "And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us."

e. By dying for us
            Romans 5:8 "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." 

            Examining these verses, what is our response to this?  First, we should accept the fact that God loves us.  I believe this is the most crucial step in the life of a believer.  Do you believe this?  Does this resonate with you, even when you are experiencing suffering in your life?  Let me echo this sentiment:  GOD LOVES YOU, and he loves you resolutely more than you can ever imagine or be mentally cognizant of.  He loves you more than your father, your mother, your wife, your husband, your son, your daughter, or anyone else in your life. 
            Secondly, we should love God with all of our heart, soul, mind, and strength.  Why is this so crucially important to our life?  Because if we love God, we know God AND are known by God.  Consider the following verses, coupled together: 1 Corinthians 8:3 says, "But whoever loves God is known by God." 1 John 4:7 offers " Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God." 
            Lastly, we should love one another.  1 Thessalonians 4:9 says, "for you yourselves have been taught by God to love each other."  1 John 4:7 "Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God."  And finally, 1 John 4:11,"Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another." 

My Tribute to Creg Rinehart

              One day.  That was the projected lifespan of Creg Rinehart by doctors who brought him into this world and said he didn’t stand a chance.  Three months premature, weighing only two pounds, and blind, doctors said that Creg would not last more than one day.  He was diagnosed with the most common developmental disability in the United States—cerebral palsy—which greatly impedes the neuromuscular potential of the human body.    He was placed in an incubator for six months, fighting to stay alive.  That was fifty years ago. 

I could tell you a lot about the birth of Creg Rinehart, but what I would like to tell you about is his life.

Most people within the reach of this newspaper have at least heard of Creg Rinehart, who lives with his family in the community of Heiberger, but my life has been tremendously blessed by having the privilege to know this titan of a man.  What he has meant to my life cannot be adequately measured nor appropriately described with my limited writing ability. Nevertheless, I will try to find the words to express a proper tribute to my most valued friend. 

Our paths first crossed when I was interviewing for the head basketball position at MMI.  When I pulled up in front of the Ireland Center, I noticed that there was another car parked in the circular drive in front of the gym.  As I was walking into the gym, Creg was mustering up enough strength to get out of his car.

            “You need some help?” I asked in my ignorance.  His salt-and-pepper hair and penetrating blue eyes caught my attention, along with the laborious way he emerged out of his blue Ford Taurus. 

“No, I’m fine.  I’ve just got to get into the gym to watch basketball practice,” he softly replied. 

As the door to the automobile swung open, I noticed that Creg was on crutches, and his custom leather shoes with Velcro straps had pieces of metal on the soles, scraping the ground as he plodded forward, one foot in front of the other.  I walked over to introduce myself. 

            “I’m Al Blanton.  It’s nice to meet you.” 

            “I’m Creg Rinehart.” 

            A relationship had begun.  At that moment, little did I know the extent of the impact that Creg would make on my life. 

            After I got the job, I learned quickly that Creg was indeed MMI’s biggest fan, and that he would most likely be in attendance at every home game.  For the first couple of games, Creg sat directly behind me on the bench and was hollering at the referees more frequently than I was.  It just didn’t seem right for Creg to be in the stands, so I asked him if he wanted to be my assistant coach and sit on the bench with the team.  At first, he hesistated, but after I assured him that he wouldn’t have to wear a suit and tie or go on recruiting trips, he agreed. 

            “Creg, all you have to do is just help me,” I said.

            “I can do that,” he offered. 

            Creg became the bright spot and a sense of unity during two difficult seasons of basketball.  Creg went on road trips with us, ate meals with us, gave pregame speeches, and yes—cheered for the team with everything he had.  I always took great pride in watching the players rally to assist him in getting off the bus and to and from the gym.  I was hoping that these moments with Creg were teaching them a little bit about serving other people and about manhood. 

Creg customarily traveled with us on road trips that were no more than two or three hours away—Selma, Tuscaloosa, Jasper.  In January 2007, I asked Creg if he could go with us to Jacksonville, Florida for a two-day tournament at Trinity Baptist College.  “I’ll have to ask my parents,” he replied.  A couple of days later I got a phone call from Creg, informing me that he could go. 

While we were in Jacksonville, the team took a short road trip to St. Augustine, the oldest permanent European settlement in the United States.  I let the players walk around at their leisure while Creg and I strolled around and took pictures and visited the little shops of the old town.  I was glad that Creg was able to experience this bit of history, and I hoped that it would be one of the lasting memories of his life.  It didn’t take long for me to realize that being able to spend time with Creg in that moment was one of the greatest satisfactions of my life. 

If you don’t know already, Creg works in the MMI dining hall, taking up lunch tickets and greeting students and faculty as they walk in the door.  He has been doing this for several years now.  Every morning, Creg makes the twelve-mile drive from Heiberger to Marion to fulfill the duties of his job.  But it is those people who come in contact with Creg that receive the greatest fulfillment.  I have had the pleasure of sitting down to have many meals with Creg in that same cafeteria, and I believe that our relationship was built during these small moments together.

So what is it about Creg Rinehart that makes him such a special person?  The first thing is that he pours his life into the lives of other people.  Make no mistake about it, Creg loves sports, and he is indeed MMI’s biggest fan.  But I believe that athletics has merely been the conduit for Creg’s greatest ministry—investing in the lives of young men and women.  Creg cares about each individual kid on a personal level.  Those players know that Creg not only wants them to win but to see them succeed. 

Creg is content with the person he is.  There is not a selfish bone in his body, and he has no desire for self-gratification in any form.  I believe that the only thing Creg wishes he could have done is to play sports just one time.  And it’s a shame, because he would have been the kind of player that I would want on my team. 

There is no sadness in Creg’s life, just the pure joy of living.  He lives with his parents, and he will probably never marry.  He struggles daily to walk a mere ten feet.  He has to have assistance in the most fundamental of life activities.  Yet there is no anger within him regarding his condition.  He never complains or questions why God made him this way, he just makes the necessary adjustments and rolls on with life. 

Creg does not let his afflictions define him.  As debilitating as his condition in, he runs through the tape of limitations and stretches his boundaries as far as they can go.  When others tell him that he can’t do it, he says “Watch me.”  When the odds are stacked against him, he says, “I’m willing to try.”  This, my friends, is called courage. 

I could not imagine someone who has lived a fuller and more abundant life. Creg is the best person I know at squeezing the most out every inch of existence, caressing and holding the little moments of each day as if it were some precious jewel.

I have never met a person, nor do I believe that I will ever again come in contact with anyone whose life is as captivating and inspiring as Creg’s.  His life and his example is the most profound testament of courage that I have ever known. 

When I look at my life, I feel that I have achieved fairly modest success.  I have been a college professor, lawyer, and college basketball coach.  But when my life is stacked up next to Creg Rinehart’s and all that he has meant to those around him, I can only look up in awe at the giant that stands in front of me.

Ah...life

            I don't know about you, but I have recently been wrestling with small bouts of depression.  I thought a sure fire remedy would to simply be incessant about my church attendance.  Wednesday morning prayer breakfast, Wednesday night church service, Thursday night small group, Friday morning Bible study, and Sunday church-- that was my church schedule for the week.  In addition to that, I was reading the Bible and submitting myself to God in prayer each day.  Yet my feelings about myself and my faith continued to wax and wane almost daily, and it became increasingly difficult to maintain any consistency in my Christian walk. 

            I have the fantastic ability to beat myself up every time I engage in any type of sinful behavior.  I will have a moral hangover for two, three, four days-- maybe even a week.  On top of this, I continue to feel sorry for myself at my current plight in life.  I keep asking God, "Is anything good ever going to happen in my life?" 

            As many of you may know, I was a basketball coach for seven years.  I walked away from coaching in April 2009, and since that time, I have struggled valiantly trying to decide what I want to do with my life.  It seems like everything I consider doing will be pale in comparison to my time as a basketball coach.  The sad thing is, I have no desire to get back into coaching, even though it was the career that I was once so passionate about.  Why this is, I cannot explain. 

            And this is why I want to be a writer.  I find tremendous meaning and value in writing.  But today's message is not really about my desire to be a writer.  What I really want you to take away from this message is this: There are times in our lives when all the pieces are not falling into place in the major areas of our life: Relationships, Career, Finances, Health, School, etc.  In fact, I am not satisfied at all in any of these areas of my life at this moment.  This is been my unnerving struggle and the thing that keeps me up at night. 

            So, what are we to do?

            I have recently been attending Church of the Highlands in Birmingham.  The pastor does a great job at teaching us to give everything to God when we encounter the trials of life.  This concept makes perfect sense when you consider one thing at a time.  Yet there have been moments when I've wanted to stand up in the middle of the service and shout-- "Well what do you do when your life just stinks?"      

            I've been thinking about this a lot lately.  Are our lives so bad or are we just spoiled Americans?  Are our expectations too high or is our focus in the wrong place? 

            I think to combat these feelings, we have to do three things: 1) Concentrate on the wonder of God (from the words of the speaker at church last night), 2) Focus on the importance of the little things of life, AND 3) Pray without ceasing and get in the word!!

            First, what types of things should we be in awe of?

            Consider the following verses regarding God's wonder and awe. 

            1) JESUS.  Isaiah 9:6 says, "For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace." 

            2) THE EARTH. Psalm 65:8 "The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders; where morning dawns, where evening fades, you call forth songs of joy."

            3) THE KINGDOM OF GOD.  "Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe." 

           

            Lastly, I have started to try my best to appreciate the small, seemingly insignificant things of life.  My eyes have been opened to the little pleasantries, all the many ways that God blesses me each day.  If I do nothing but focus on the "big" things of life, I will continue to miss out on thousands of ways that God is blessing me each day.  And daily, don't forget to pray.  It's truly amazing how prayer can have such a healing effect on your soul. 

The Threshing Floor

Out of weakness comes the greatest strength,

Out of confusion comes the greatest certainty,

Out of brokenness comes the greatest completeness,

Out of tragedy comes the greatest triumph,

Out of error comes the greatest wisdom,

Out of hate comes the greatest forgiveness,

Out of fear comes the greatest courage,

Out of anguish comes the greatest rest,

Out of sickness comes the greatest healing,

Out of war come the greatest heroes,

Out of strife comes the greatest happiness,

Out of danger comes the greatest rescue,

Out of toils comes the greatest peace,

Out of suffering comes the greatest victory,

And out of death comes the greatest life.

God Our Father

            Have you ever stopped and thought about the fact that God is your father?  It’s a crazy thought, really.  When God created the world and all that is in it, the only thing that He made to be his children were human beings.  He could have made trees his children, or mountains, tigers, or electrons.  But he chose instead to make us his children.  We tend to forget that we are part of the family of God.  If our relationship with God were subject to legal ramifications (and thankfully it’s not), we might be liable for parental neglect.  

            And furthermore, why did God create that type of relationship for us?  He could have been God our Boss, God our Uncle, God our President, or God our Commander. But He chose instead to be God our father.  Why do you suppose he did this? 

            I believe it is because there is a very special relationship between parent and child.  It is a relationship of intimacy and love.  How intimate do you feel with God?  Do you think most people view their relationship with God this way?  I believe that many people fail to grasp the fact that we are part of the family of God, and there is a certain tight-knit intimacy that is inherent in that type of relationship.  Like all relations of intimacy, we have to be able to drop our guards and our pride to allow intimate relations to exist, to allow dialogue and freedom and love to manifest and grow.  Most of us treat God the Father as some person who is of no relation at all.  We treat God as some faraway stranger or vagabond.  But God is our relative, and he should be the closest relative we ever have.  He should be closer than mom, dad, sister, brother, uncle, cousin, and grandma. 

            Our perception of God begins to falter when we assume that God is like our earthly fathers.  Human associations with the word “Father” is becoming progressively more jaded.  Our perception of what “father” means is in the process of dramatic transformation.  Yesterday’s fathers were loving, kind, present, able, and strong.  They are like Andy Griffith, Ward Cleaver, or Cliff Huxtable.  Today’s fathers are flawed, angry, and absent.  They are more like Archie Bunker, or the guy that left your mother twenty years ago, or even someone you have never spoken to. 

We have conditioned ourselves to think about the nature of a father by our perceptions—whether it be a negative one or a positive one—of our earthly fathers.  If our earthly father has been absent, our conditioned mind thinks that a “father” is someone who is absent and in ways, untrustworthy.  If our fathers have subjected our entire lives to condemnation and guilt, why should we not believe that God is the same way?  If our actions prove to be subpar, isn’t God up in his heavenly perch storing up wrath and condemnation and anger? 

What a child repeatedly hears, he eventually begins to believe.  If we are told that we are cowards, punks, idiots, and losers, we eventually begin to believe this.  Disparaging words leads to the eventual whittling away of a child’s confidence and self-worth.  We must go through a process of deconditioning ourselves to think like this.  But much more so, we should take into account instead what God is saying about us.  The Bible says that there is no condemnation in Christ:  “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”[1]  God is not storing up His wrath to throw at us like lightning bolts. 

He sees us as men and women of tremendous potential who have been given gifts beyond measure.  We can rest on the promise of Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”  God says that we can do all things through Christ!  This doesn’t sound like a loser to me.

The key to finding success is being able to break free from all the negative things said about us and concentrate on cultivating God’s power in our life.  Yes, we are all small and insignificant and cowardly—without the presence of God in our life.  Imagine then what we have with God.  He is more loving than we can ever imagine…our human condition cannot possibly fathom the depths of his love and understanding.  God is love.  Do you believe that?

---

[1] Romans 8:1

Why do we doubt?

A few years back, I picked up a copy of USA Today at a gas station in Pensacola, Florida.  I thumbed through the sports section first, as I normally do, but then a short snip-it caught my eye on the front page.  It stated that over the course of the last five or so years, the percentage of Americans that believed in God has dropped 10 percent.  I sat for a moment and thought about how sad that was, and all the many reasons why people have turned away from God.  Why do we continue to doubt God? 

The famous Methodist preacher Charles Allen wrote a book several years ago entitled Life More Abundant.  The first chapter is entitled “Why I Believe in God.”  Allen says that believing in God should be somewhat similar to the standard of guilt in a criminal case: innocent until proven guilty.  Instead of trying to “prove” that God exists, why is it that we don’t just believe until we find evidence otherwise? 

You say, “Well is a lack of evidence not enough?” and I say, “There is more than enough evidence for us to believe beyond a reasonable doubt.”  Who can say that any of us comes into this world as an atheist?   Coming to the conclusion that God does not exist is the systematic manifestation of human experiences, human reasoning, and arrogance, not simply an inherent thought that comes with being born into civilization.  We doubt because we have gravitated away from God, not because he has gravitated away from us.  We take the sum of our experiences and say, “Well God simply does not want to be a part of my life, or God doesn’t care for me, so therefore He must not exist.”  We offer, “God has no interaction in society and He has not made Himself known to humankind, so therefore He cannot be real.”

Human self-sufficiency and pride is the overarching enemy of faith in God.  Intellect and power, in our human perceptions, eliminates the need for God.  We say, “I can do this on my own—I don’t need any help.” And when we begin to achieve and accumulate income, we ask, “Where was God in all of this?  I did this myself.”  I believe that pride is the most damaging of all sins to the Christian faith, because it elevates our capacity to be totally self-sufficient.  We don’t feel the need to turn to God. 

Ultimately, I believe that doubt in the existence of God stems from three main reasons: 1) because we have no conscious dealings and no interaction with God, 2) because the circumstances of life—evil and suffering—have led us to the conclusion that if there is a God, then he doesn’t care, and 3) because we have no signs that God exists.  I would like to take each of these one at a time. 

First, we begin to doubt that God exists because we have no conscious dealings or interaction with Him.  “God hasn’t spoken to me,” we offer.  But I believe that God has spoken to us, and He wishes greatly to be in constant dialogue with us as we walk through the trials and tribulations of life.  Recently, I resurrected an old institution that has largely died out in the era of text messaging and email.  I began writing hand-written letters to several of my friends.  I have found tremendous value and joy in this exercise.  The importance of letter writing is this: as a letter is read, it becomes a one-way mode of communication. In essence, one who reads a letter must submit his attention to the words of the author for a little while without a response.  The words have more of a saturating effect in the lives of those who read it.  Of course, we may respond by writing letters of our own, but only after we have had time to read and reflect on the letter in its entirety.  I appreciate receiving letters, especially those that have been hand-written, because of the time and effort it takes to do it (unlike text messaging or email).  Letter writing has always been a very compelling evidentiary source of information for historical researchers and enthusiasts.  We learn much about the love of John Adams for his wife Abigail through his letters.  We understand Jefferson’s thoughts on the separation of church and state through his letter to Danbury Baptist Church.  We appreciate more greatly the beliefs of Ronald Reagan by studying his letters.  “How does this relate to God?” you ask.  Because God has written us the greatest love letter of all-time, the Bible.  Consider the time it took for the Bible to manifest itself before it could be “sent” to us.  The Bible has been written over thousands of years by many authors.  God has spoken to us, and he has spoken to us loudly and resolutely.  Not only has he spoken to us in tangible words, he has spoken to us by sending us a concrete example to this world of his divine nature and will through his son Jesus.  John chapter one says, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”  God speaks to us through his Word.  One author cleverly noted, “Jesus is all that God wanted to say to us.” 

Many people believe that God stopped speaking directly to mankind after Jesus came.  Indeed, it seems on the surface that the God of the Old Testament had more direct interaction with human beings than he does in today’s world.  But I believe that God continues to speak to us, and that our lives are very important to Him.  “How does he do this?” you might inquire.  I believe that God speaks to us through people, through our experiences, through prayer, and at times, audibly.  God uses pastors and other people to deliver to us his truth.  He uses our experiences to draw us closer to him.  He draws near to us when we pray.  And at times, his words can be audibly heard.  The question is, “Are our minds and hearts open to the messages that God is sending us?  Are we fully aware that God intends to have constant communication in our lives?”  No communication is effective unless the recipient is willing to receive the information.  We cannot interact with God if we keep hanging up the phone on him and throwing his letters in the trash.  We cannot hear him if we are not willing to engage him.  In short, we drown out the voice of God in our life, and as we continue to listen to the words of the secular world, the word of God becomes more foreign to us.  For those who may be doubting the existence of God, ask yourself this, “Have I listened to Him lately?  Have I opened his letters?  Have I attempted to communicate with Him?”  We doubt God because we have refused to respond to his constant communication, not because God has failed to interact with us. 

Secondly, we doubt God because of the circumstances of life.  We look at all of the heartache, the hurt, the suffering, and the anguish of our lives and conclude that God simply could not exist, because if He did, we would have better lives.  Nowhere in the Bible does God promise that life will be without tribulation.  In fact, he warns us of the converse of this notion.  He thoroughly warns us of the fact that there will be suffering and distress in life.  Most of the stories of the Bible are stories of overcoming extreme pain, loss, unbelief, murder, envy, spite, anger, lust, hatred, death, and turmoil.  If you think it’s bad, consider the lives of Job, David, Paul, and Jesus.  None of their lives were absent of suffering and hardship, and in fact, they suffered more than most of us could ever fathom.  Yet, they were able to endure, rejoice, and forgive through their trials and sufferings because their eyes were fixed on the wonderful nature of God.  They understood firmly that suffering will come, that suffering is a part of life, but there is purpose in suffering.  When we experience pain and suffering in our life, one of our first reactions is to say that God is punishing us for something we have done in our life.  “Why did you allow this to happen to me?” we beg.  Have we not considered that through this suffering that God is trying to teach us and prepare us for something that will one day comfort and benefit other people?  We are so very focused on how suffering applies to our life that we fail to see how our suffering can and will positively impact those around us.  This applies particularly when unexpected death occurs, or someone is stricken with a fatal disease.  Do we even consider that God is using these experiences for our benefit and for the benefit of those around us?  When suffering comes, lean on the words of Paul in Romans 8:28, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  When our house burns down, we ask, “Where is God?”  But God has already sent the fire crew to rebuild us before we ever realize it.  When we weep, God weeps with us, and he knows that suffering is for our good and will ultimately draw us nearer to him.  In this, I do not mean to be trite; death and loss is a horrible thing.  But what I am trying to say is that we should focus on the overall plan.  Life is often like watching a movie.  When one of the main characters gets killed, we have to wait to see how the movie plays out in their absence.  God is constantly writing a good ending to our lives.  The circumstances that befall us can be tragic, yet God in his infinite wisdom has a plan for all of us.  He is there in the midst of that suffering, and he desperately wants to restore us and give us a life more abundant than we ever had before. 

Lastly, we doubt because we fail to see the signs that God exists.  Recently, I went to a church that I had never attended before.  As I was leaving, I took a wrong turn and ended up on a road that seemed to be going nowhere.  There were no signs to point me in the right direction, I just had to have faith that the roads would eventually lead to my destination.  While I was traveling down that road, I began to notice all of the wonderful little displays of nature that were largely untouched—trees, rocks, ravines, creeks, valleys, hills, leaves, moss, soil, minerals, dirt, straw, and brush—and as the sun was beaming in the distance, I thought about God.  I thought about how impossible it would be for the earth to simply form without the hand of the Creator.  I thought about all the subtle details of nature that we fail to appreciate every day—that God put that creek there, a rock here, allowed trees to grow, and painted the pretty pictures of the earth for us to enjoy and revere, his handiwork to admire. 

I think about love and emotion and feeling and I cannot but conclude that God created these things to help us to know that He exists.  We may be able to scientifically explain how nature works, but no scientist has ever been able to explain love.  God has given us nature and love and the complexities of the human body to point us to one immutable fact: that he created the world and all that is in it.  How can we possibly deny this?  How can we look at nature and the human body and unexplainable temperament of love and say to others that God does not exist? 

God has made himself known to us.  He has spoken to us.  He has provided for us.  There is really no cause for doubt that God exists.  Instead of asking, "Does God exist?" shouldn't we wonder why we are doubting in the first place?   

The Tragic Life of James Agee

A few years ago, a lawyer friend of mine from the Blackbelt gave me as a gift a book entitled The Collected Poems of James Agee.  Since I had never heard of Agee, in my ignorance I assumed that he was probably a local writer whose poetry anthology was the summation of his writings en toto.  I couldn't have been more wrong. Embarrasingly and because of this fact, I gave the anthology only casual glances-- reading a poem or two here and there-- while mostly letting it rest on my bookshelves for four years. 
Recently, the writings of this man and his life have crept back up into the forefront of my interest, and quite ironically, it aptly coincides with my intensifying intrigue into Alabama's Blackbelt.  About a week ago, I went to the Mountain Brook library to check out several books about the Blackbelt, and as I was perusing through several titles, I ran across a book called Let Us Now Praise Famous Men.  I had never heard of this title, and I wondered why it had anything to do with the state of Alabama, much less the Blackbelt.  I noticed that it had been written by James Agee.  "Who is this guy-- James Agee?" I thought to myself.  I quickly ran home to see if the names matched.  They did. 
John Hersey's introduction to the Let Us Now Praise Famous Men gives a short account of the life and writings of Agee.  Apparently, Hersey met Agee at a party for Time magazine writers in the fall of 1939.  Hersey writes, "He was at the heart of a constellation on the other side of the room, and he seemed to be doing all the talking.  There were rockets of laughter going up.  Someone told me the man was Jim Agee...No one else got many words in.  He talked with both his tongue and his hands. It seemed that for this person words had not only sound and meaning but also physical weight, volume, and shape, and to these qualities he tried, as he spoke, to give their full value with his long fingers and strong palms-- molding the clay of abstractions, arranging mental flowers, tightening difficult screws, caressing lusted-after erogenous zones, touching ideal chords on a ghost piano, and even, in moments of awe or vehemence, stretching his arms out and tilting the axis of the whole world." 
When I read Hersey's description of this enigmatic character, I was hooked.  I set out on my own little investigative journey into Agee's life.  As I became a pupil in AGEE 101, I firstly noticed how dichotomous his life truly was.  As a writer, Agee struggled tremendously with breaking free from the bonds that restrict artists in general, gaining freedom in our craft, i.e. "how to become what I wish I could when I can't."  Agee also struggled to find intimate, lasting relationships, having three wives by age forty-five.  He drank incessantly, smoked incessantly, warred with depression and inveterate thoughts of suicide.  Yet, Agee had a profound appreciation for the greatness and the limitless possibilities of humankind as bestowed upon us by our Creator.  His faith in Christ was a reverant one, certainly, but it almost seemed as though unendingly obstructed by Agee's own wrestlings with self-loathing and self-deprication. 
Agee was born in Knoxville, Tennessee in 1909.  The most tragic event of his life occurred when he was but six years old, when his father was killed in an automobile accident.  Agee was sent to a school for boys, St. Andrews, in nearby Sewanee, Tennessee, where he was mentored by one Father Flye, a priest who became somewhat of a father to Agee in the absence of his own father.  For the rest of Agee's life, he remained in correspondence with Father Flye, giving accounts of his life and his failings in often anguished tones.
Agee enrolled at Harvard and became president of the Harvard Advocate, a highly-esteemed literary magazine.  After graduation, he was fortunate, through a friend, to land a job at Fortune magazine in New York, working and writing on the fifty-second floor of the Chrysler building.  Agee struggled with deadlines and brevity, alcohol, and women.  He listened to classical music, specifically Beethoven's Ninth, with the sound turned up as loud as possible, immersing himself with every piercing decibel. 
Finally, in 1936, Agee got the break he needed.  He was assigned to a piece on Southern sharecroppers with photographer Walker Evans.  An ecstatic Agee and the talented Evans went to Greenville, Alabama to find suitable subjects.  There, they were fortunate enough to find several families of tenant farmers to take them in for several weeks to conduct interviews and take pictures of their impoverished way of life.  What started out as a story for a magazine turned into one of the most compelling stories ever written about the people of Alabama. 
Tragically, Agee died in a New York taxicab of a heart attack--a product of years of bodily abuse of alcohol and hard living--before he even saw modest success of any of his works.  Posthumously, Agee won the Pulitzer Prize for his autobiography A Death in the Family, and Let Us Now Praise Famous Men has been critically acclaimed as one of the best works of the twentieth century.

Morning in Marion

It is 7:15 a.m. in the Blackbelt, and it is not time yet for the little frenzied sounds that the city makes.  A restless and engaging bird is chirping from the bursting oak as I sit on the bench on the south end of the Perry County courthouse, built before anyone still alive can remember. 

I am enthralled by the effervescent purity of the morning as it makes its holy rising, marshaled in on the wings of the dawn.  The sun is shining like a gold ring from just above the courthouse roof, a dull but not overbearing luster.  Rising above me, like giant redwoods, are twin Corinthian columns, already the product of rot and spoil, yet still retaining the loveliness of a former beauty queen. 

Flowering plants and hedgerows, green with red tops, provide a calming disposition.  A flock of birds parade by without pomp or circumstance.  The sun hits the green grass in a disarming way, challenging each individual blade to reveal its radiance and the depths of its full color, brightened, exposed, and pure.  The smattered patches of dirt are disjointed from the green grass; rocks, sticks, minerals, grit, soil, and concrete fuse together in this gentle outlay.  The quieting rhythm of clay tile of on the entryway, alternating dark to light, dark to light, gives means of support under the towering façade, rising some forty or so feet to its north.   Brick by white painted brick, the inestimable handiwork of hundred year old masters, is still evident and palpable. 

An American flag is calmly blowing in the Southern wind; the birds are speaking more purposefully now, more resolutely and urgently, as if they can hear the coming flood of the city.  The humming of engines arrive like Roman legions in the distance, charging ahead in proud rhythms.  Guiltily, sadly, I rise and let the sounds of the city overtake me, as I long to hear the peace that tomorrow brings. 

Running on Empty

The other night as I was filling up my sixteen-gallon gas-guzzler of an automobile, I began to think about all the many ways we re-fuel in life.  I began to think about what we are putting into our minds to recharge us, bolster us, and give us energy to get us up and get us going every day. 

What if we viewed each morning-- each entire day-- as though we woke up with an empty tank yet a completely clean slate?  What types of fuel would you use to ramp up your wisdom?  Your knowledge? 

Have you ever considered how important it is to fill your mind with the high octane, penetrating truth of the Bible?  When is the last time that you pulled your vehicle up to this pump? 

It really is profound how our lives are suddenly transformed when we allow the truth of God to fill our tanks.  Life runs rather smoothly.  We don't have to worry about running out of gas, or gas prices going through the roof.  Jesus said, "I am the same yesterday, today, and forever."  All it takes is a little humility and openness each day to let God fill us with his overarching wisdom and understanding. 

Have you refueled today?

Something Worth Reading

What would you do if a madman wanted you to leave town?  Would you pack up your family and head out?  Worse, what if this madman went to church with you? 

The Devil in Pew Number Seven is a true story about a preacher who moved Sellerstown, North Carolina in 1969 to become pastor at Free Welcome Holiness Church.  He brought his wife and young daughter to the community to lead a small congregation of believers.  But he would soon learn that a man who attended services at the church would stop at virtually nothing to try to force them out of town. 

It began with late night phone calls and terrifying letters.  As the progressivity of the harassment unfolds, we cannot but plead with the pastor…why don’t you just leave town? 

The story is about the will of one man led by God versus the will of another led by hatred.  It is the story of courage and an unshakable resolve to do God’s will in the face of danger.  The Devil in Pew Number Seven was released on August 1. 

Still Making an Impact on Me

Basketball.  I have often wondered why I chose this particular medium to live out a great portion of my life.  Paradoxically, basketball for me has been the source of tremendous heartache and consummate happiness, as well as an outlet for the converging challenges of life and a battlefield of the mind.   This perpetual high-speed game has been the origin of a hundred rising suns and ten thousand desperate nights in my life. 

As a player, basketball was my chance to run and jump and enjoy the beautiful freedoms that life has to offer.  It was the playground that provided a group of men the opportunity to grind together, live together, share together, and suffer together in a communal environment with one goal in mind—victory.  Through basketball, I was able to feel the assuaging comfort of success and the callous reality of defeat.  It has furnished unending anguish and unrest, and extreme joy.  It defeated me more times than I choose to count, but yet I still made it my special game—the one that was closest to my heart. 

Most of my pleasant memories of the sport draw upon my days as a young boy at “Glen Clem’s Basketball Camp.”  Coach Clem was the head coach at Walker College, a privately-funded junior college in Jasper.  Clem stood about 6’5” and weighed over 250 lbs.  His skin was olive, and he had a thick black mat of course hair.  He wore plaid sportjackets and designer shoes and his nickname was Big Daddy.  Sure, there was a towering presence about him.  His most distinctive features were indisputably his large, bug eyes and echoing voice, like a thunderclap.  If Fred Flintstone could have been exemplified in a human being, Clem was it.

As my friend Matthew says, basketball coaches (unlike those of any other sport) have the most dominating and gregarious of all personalities.  Clem was no exception.  At Glen Clem’s camp, I witnessed firsthand the utter hilarity of this unique character.  He made basketball fun by utilizing wild and colorful terminology that I had never heard before.   He warned us not to wear “costume jewelry” while we were in camp, and swore that if we got out of line we’d be subjected to the lashings of his “black snake whip.”  He would often pick on longtime campers such as Kellen, who apparently was twelve years old but had been attending Clem’s camp for fourteen years.  He used downtime in camp to provide for our amusement his proverbial vaudeville act…shooting (and making) shots while he sat Indian-style at midcourt, hook-shots from thirty feet that drained the net, and many other offerings that split our sides and made us revere the Glen Clem circus. 

Still, he took the time to share with us little lessons of life, takeaways if you will, that stick with me to this day.  I call into question anything that gave me fonder memories of my boyhood than my time with Coach Clem.  He was the kind of coach that I wanted to be.  I could write an entire book about Clem, but for now we don’t have enough time.  What I will share with you is my proudest appreciation with the fact that I was able to share time with him and the further denotation of “coach” in the same exact office that he worked for thirty-seven years.  

Coach Clem passed away, suddenly, in 1996 in Gatlinburg, Tennessee.  To this day, he is still making a profound impact on my life.  I miss you greatly, coach, and I long to see you again one day if I'm fortunate enought to make it to heaven. 

Life Game

        I have watched and participated in many games in my life.  But today I wanted to talk to you about a game that cannot be seen.  This is a game of high stakes, swift consequences, and eternal results.  "Who are the participants?" you might ask.  Naturally, there are two teams competing in this game. 

        The first is the Black  Devils.  This team is coached by Satan himself.  The “players” on the team are his demons and the ungodly…murderers, slanderers, rapists, and idolators, cheaters, liars, and thieves. 

        The opposing team is the Crimson Crusaders.  This is God’s team.  God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit make up the entire coaching staff.  The players are Christians and the angels. 

        The conditions of the game are very rough, the terrain very difficult.  This game is played on a neutral battlefield, the earth.  There are no referees.  The weather conditions are often uncertain.  Sometimes, it will rain and the field gets sloppy.  Other times, the game takes place on a beautiful day.  But there is one thing for sure…the game never stops for inclement weather…it continues in perpetuity. 

        There are no halftimes, intermissions, timeouts, or breaks.  The spectators in the stands are all on the side of the Black Devils, for if you are a member of the Crimson Crusaders, you don’t sit in the stands…you play.  

        Both the Crimson Crusaders and the Black Devils have exquisite uniforms. The armor of the Crimson Crusaders includes:

                      Belt of Truth

                      Breastplate of righteousness

                      Shield of faith

                      Helmet of Salvation

                      Sword of the Spirit

                      Feet fitted with peace

They wear red to symbolize the blood of Jesus Christ, their savior.  They are heavily equipped by God, but sometimes it takes them a while to figure out how to properly use their uniform. 

The Black Devils’ armor includes the

                                     

Belt of Lies

                      Breastplate of evil  

                      Shield of doubt

                      Helmet of destruction

                      Sword of the Flesh

                      Feet fitted with fire

The Ball is the souls of the spectators.  When the Crimson Crusaders score, God always gets a celebration penalty.   When the Black Devils score, the pyrotechnics in Hell light up the underworld. 

Both teams are strategic in their gameplans. 

The Black Devils use any means necessary to confuse, frustrate, anger, disrupt, or thwart the Crimson Crusaders' players or the coach’s plan.  Satan runs trick plays, takes cheap shots, and uses any means necessary to win.  He doesn’t value sportsmanship or class.  He watches game film, and tries to recruit more players. 

He tries to exploit weaknesses by sending in his best demons to attack us at our most vulnerable points.  He uses VICE, FLESH, and PRIDE to his advantage. 

On the other hand, the Crimson Crusaders have a much different strategy.  This is God’s strategy.  The first thing that He does is give people a choice to be on the team or not to be. 

Secondly, He sacrifices his best player.  He retires Jesus Christ to the Hall of Fame just when the battle is getting started.  But he sends in as a replacement the Holy Spirit, which has won numerous 6^th man awards as the best substitute there ever was.

He equips us with a good pep talk—The Bible, which is powered by LOVE, HOPE, and TRUTH.  He also allows his team the freedom to come up with their own strategies to fight the Black Devils.  He builds our practice facilities and calls them “church.”  He builds our understanding of the nature of the game through prayer, and he uses our faults, adversity, and difficulties to strengthen us for the fight. 

          But the Crimson Crusaders must realize that the numbers are stacked against them in this game of life.  They must realize that the enemy is strong, and not one to be taken for granted.  Their enemy is working everyday to change the world.  To gain a victory, it’s going to take work.  It’s going to take sacrifice.  But it starts with your decision…will you play for the Crimson Crusaders or the Black Devils?  Whom will you serve?