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I posted “A Legacy of Faith” a few days ago and shared some memories of my grandparents, describing how much they influenced my life and my walk with God. As I mentioned, I was blessed to have all four of my grandparents to the age of 22, and Granny (Louetta Sanders Pyles, pictured above) was with us until November of last year when I was 46.
As part of my tribute to Granny at her funeral, I shared a story that had taken place the previous Christmas. All of us had gone to the nursing home one afternoon to visit with Granny, but I returned there by myself later that evening so that I could spend a little more time with her. Even though she was 1oo years old, she would frequently sit up quite late at night reading her Bible. So, it sort of surprised me to find her in the bed with her glasses off, apparently ready to go to sleep. I pulled a chair close to the side of the bed so that she could see me and hear me better. We proceeded to have the deepest and most spiritual conversation that we ever had.
One of the subjects that we covered that night was forgiveness. Granny told me that a few weeks earlier one of the nurses had hurt her when she was helping her bathe. I am sure that the nurse was not intentionally rough. Granny was one of the favorites among the nursing staff, and they frequently referred to her as “Little Miss Independence.” Still, it hurt. In response, Granny said that she “talked right ugly” to the nurse and that the nurse “talked ugly” right back at her. I can’t imagine what Granny might have said to her; I never heard her curse. Well, she had used some “farm words” in my hearing when I was growing up, but never anything profane.
Granny told me that she couldn’t sleep that night because she felt so bad about what had happened. When the nurse came in the next day, Granny told her how sorry she was for how she had talked to her and asked the nurse to please forgive her. She said the nurse started crying and apologized to her and asked Granny to forgive her as well. They hugged and cried and made up. Granny said, “We’ve been just the best of friends ever since.” Even at 100, Granny was still teaching us how to forgive and how to ask for forgiveness!
I first became a fan of Mark Knopfler when he was fronting Dire Straits back in the ’70s, ’80s and early ’90s. I was always impressed with his extraordinary guitar skills and his songwriting ability. Even in the ’80s, he was branching out into other musical pursuits like composing soundtracks for movies. Local Hero, The Princess Bride, Last Exit to Brooklyn and Wag the Dog are among his better known cinematic scores. Knopfler has collaborated with numerous other artists, ranging from Classic Rockers to several notables in country music. He recorded an album with the late, legendary musician Chet Atkins and more recently with Emmylou Harris.
Mark Knopfler has continued to release solo works since the disbanding of Dire Straits in the mid-90s. Sailing to Philadelphia, released in 2000, is probably my favorite. 2001 was a very trying and challenging year for me, and I found a lot of comfort and “escape” in that cd which features duets with James Taylor and Van Morrison. Knopfler has a great way of communicating stories in his songs and composing them in an impressive variety of genres and styles.
Since I mostly listen to “old” music, I typically don’t anticipate new releases. However, I was excited to learn a few months ago that Mark Knopfler was completing work on a new album. Get Lucky was released in the U.S. yesterday. You can listen to the title track above. Kim and I got to see Knopfler perform at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville in 2005. It was one the most enjoyable concerts I have ever attended. We are planning to see him again when he tours the U.S. next spring!
Thomas and Katie Lou Sanders and their children
I love this photo. It connects me with my family and my roots. Included in the picture, which was taken in 1907, are Isaac Thomas Sanders and his wife, Katie Lou (Bradford) Sanders, and five of their six children (Uncle Paul wasn’t born yet). Seated in my great-grandmother’s lap is my grandmother, Louetta Sanders Pyles, who passed away last November at the age of 101. I have never had to wonder, “What did Granny look like as a baby?” She looks remarkably just like my father, sister and nephew did at that age! I also love this photo because my early life is filled with many memories of Granny’s pictured siblings, Aunt Bernice, Aunt Elise, Uncle William and Uncle Buford.
You may have noticed on the calendar that last Sunday was Grandparents Day. I took the opportunity to share a message at the Broken Arrow church on Sunday morning about the wonderful blessing that grandparents are in our physical families and the special role that older generations have in the body of Christ. Grandparents have so much to offer in extending love, wisdom, grace, guidance and encouragement to their grandchildren. I consider myself most blessed to have known all four of my grandparents, to have had all of them in my life to the age of 22, and then to have had Granny with us until just last year when I was 46.
While there was a lot to love about my grandparents, what I treasure most is that they were all Christians. My memories of them are inseparable from their connection and involvement with Christ’s church. I remember Pa (C.R. Sheffield) leading singing and teaching the auditorium class at the small rural church in Hentown, Georgia. Mama Lila loved to cook for the preachers and did so many things in service to others in the church and in the community. Granddaddy (Josh Pyles), taught the “Old Men’s Class” at the Diana church in Giles County, Tennessee. Forever impressed on my mind and heart is the image of him stepping into the aisle and kneeling whenever a prayer was led in the assembly. Granny, like Mama Lila, performed so many loving acts of kindness and service for those within and outside the church.
It is true that God has no grandchildren, only sons and daughters. Faith in Jesus Christ as the Son of God, Lord, Christ and Savior must ultimately be claimed in a personal way by each individual believer. Our faith cannot be vicariously inherited from another. Still, it is a tremendous blessing to be a recipient and participant in a legacy of faith, much as the evangelist Timothy was in relation to his grandmother Lois and his mother Eunice (II Timothy 1:5). A young boy was once asked why he believed in God. He replied, “I guess it just runs in our family!” While this is certainly not the measure of a mature faith, it is most definitely a wonderful start!
September 11, 2001
The President of the United States addressed the schoolchildren of America this morning with a message of encouragement to take their education seriously, apply themselves, work hard, listen to their teachers and parents and pursue their dreams for their own good and the good of our nation. Well, he didn’t actually address all of the nation’s schoolchildren. Officials at some schools, in response to parental concern, opposition and even outrage, elected to not make the address available. Other children did not hear the address because their parents (if they followed through with their stated intentions) kept their kids at home today or had them participate in an alternative activity during the President’s speech.
I must admit that I have experienced a huge amount of disbelief over this whole controversy. As I expressed in a comment on a friend’s blog last week (http://bobbyrossjr.com), it was as if some parents believed that in the span of a brief speech President Obama could use mass hypnosis to brainwash and corrupt millions of U.S. children and instantaneously erase years of moral and ethical training provided by their parents and their churches. Would he irreparably influence them to become socialists, communists or, even worse, Democrats? Over the last week, I have heard people compare Obama’s planned address to the propaganda and indoctrination tactics of Hitler, Stalin and Mao Tse-tung. Seriously? I mean…seriously?
As a Christian, it concerns me to see fellow believers respond with such reactionary, politically-induced fear. As an American, it concerns me that our nation has become so politically polarized and the Office of the President so diminished that “party” trumps patriotism with such ease. I know that there is plenty of blame for this to be laid at both ends of the political spectrum, but it saddens me, nonetheless.
In March of last year, on the day before the Democratic Primary in Texas, then Illinois Senator Obama spoke at my daughter’s high school in Carrollton. She and I attended the speech together, and we were both impressed with his oratorical skills, command of the issues and the way in which he handled questions from parents and students. So, did this hour-long exposure to the future President re-program Hannah into some kind of apologist for all causes left and liberal? Hardly! A few weeks ago, she attended town hall meetings in Denton and Gainesville, Texas, to protest “Obama-Care.” She even made her own spiffy protest signs!
As I mentioned in my comment on Bobby & Tamie’s blog, if you have children in public schools, they see, hear and experience numerous things on a daily basis that should cause significant parental concern. The President’s speech on education would not make my Top Ten.
Coleman at Navarre Beach '07
“A Portrait of Persistence.” That’s what I think about every time I see this picture of my son, Coleman, that was taken at Navarre Beach, Florida, two years ago. For those who may not know, Coleman is autistic and was diagnosed at five months of age with a genetic disorder called Dubowitz Syndrome which involves varying levels of mental retardation, microcephaly (small head circumference), speech delays, etc. Coleman does not speak at all, other than having the wonderful God-given ability to say, “Mama.” Yes, his mother is more proud of that than I can tell you! I could write a book about him (and we probably will some day), but for now let me just say that he has been an incredible blessing to our family and to the lives of the hundreds of people who have known him during his 16 1/2 years of life.
Now, back to the beach. Coleman loves the water. I mean, he loooooves the water! He doesn’t know how to swim. But, he doesn’t know that he doesn’t know how to swim. He has no fear of the water whatsoever, whether it is in a swimming pool or in the giant, endless wave pool called the Gulf of Mexico. When we are at Navarre, we stay in the water with him until we are all worn out and have to drag ourselves back up on the beach to catch our breath and some sun. Coleman will sit contently on the sand for a little while, and then he will begin to inch his way toward the water. I think that he thinks that if he moves slowly enough and doesn’t make eye contact with us then we won’t be able to see him. His slow slide-and-glide across the sand may take a few minutes, but his patience and persistence will ultimately pay off in getting him back to the water’s edge to let the waves wash over his feet and legs. In his wake, he leaves a track worthy of a giant sea turtle headed back out to sea! That’s our Coleman! Sea Turtle Boy!
“….forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus,” (Philippians 3:13-14).
LeVar Burton with kids on PBS' Reading Rainbow
Last Friday, PBS aired the last episode of Reading Rainbow, ending 26 years of programming designed to encourage a love for reading among children. Reading Rainbow was the third longest-running children’s program in PBS history, trailing only Sesame Street and Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. LeVar Burton, known for his acting roles as Kunta Kinte in Roots, and Geordi La Forge on Star Trek: The Next Generation, served as the show’s host for its entire run. Production ceased when no entity could be found (not even PBS) that would provide the several hundred thousand dollars necessary to renew the broadcast rights for the show. Apparently, a philosophical shift had taken place among leaders in children’s educational programming who now desired that greater emphasis be given to teaching basic reading tools like phonics and spelling (the how of reading) rather than inspiring and encouraging children with why they should read. I have to admit that I probably only saw a few episodes of the show when my children were young, but still I felt a sense of sadness that such a wholesome and successful show had to end, when outright garbage on commercial television seems to have no lack of funding at all.
The debate about teaching how to read versus why to read got me thinking about the study habits of Christians and the approach to teaching that is normative in many churches through their Bible classes and small group ministries. The higher-ups at PBS decided that they were assuming too much about their young viewing audience’s ability to read and shifted their focus toward teaching basic literacy. Is it possible that churches have made similar false assumptions about Biblical literacy within their membership? Many Christians read widely and voluminously among the genres of personal devotion, relationship enrichment, financial accountability and stewardship, character development, and even Christian fiction. It is not unusual for these same subjects to be represented in (or even dominate) the “Bible” class offerings of churches. But, how well are our church members progressing in their fundamental knowledge of Scripture which is “a lamp to our feet and a light to our path” (Ps. 119:105) and the Word of His Grace “which is able to build us up and give us an inheritance among all those who are sanctified” (Acts 20:32)? I know that this doesn’t have to be an “either/or” consideration, but, rather, is a “both/and” goal that can be achieved in a well-balanced fashion. Still, I want to make sure that we do not substitute mere “supplements” for the “staples” of our spiritual diet. So what do you think? Do we need to tweak our programming?
My first encounter with a Global Positioning System was in the late 1990s in Annapolis, Maryland. Our son, Coleman, was a patient at the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda undergoing protocols of treatment and study in their Infectious Disease and Genetics departments. One weekend, we made a trip to Annapolis to visit Bob and Allene Stoddert whom we had come to know and love during our time serving with the church in Honolulu. The Stodderts lived in a beautiful home right on the water. On Saturday, “Cap’n Bob” took us for a cruise in their boat, and, while I certainly enjoyed the time on the water, I was most enamored with the electronic device mounted near the wheel. The display screen featured a map of the harbor, kept track of our precise position, and even left a line showing where we had been on our jaunt. Amazing! It easily surpassed the euphoria I had experienced earlier in life with things like VCRs and microwave popcorn. This was totally futuristic! Since then, our culture has become GPS-saturated. They have become almost standard on golf carts these days. Kim’s GMC Acadia came equipped with OnStar. And, just last week, we bought Hannah a Garmin for her car as a very late graduation present. The latter purchase was under $200; no monthly service fee, no per-use fees; just unlimited access and directional assistance anywhere in North America. Wow!
While I know that GPS has many complex applications, both military and civilian in nature, for most people it just provides answers to simple but extremely important questions like “Where am I?” and “How do I get to where I want to go?” Spiritually speaking, that is what Scripture (God’s Positioning System) is all about. It is God’s story of who we are (in relation to Who He is), where we are, and how we can get to and spend eternity where He is. Our journey to that destination is described a road, a path, a walk, and a race. Since there are roads that would lead us away from God, we frequently find ourselves in need of guidance and direction to ensure that we are walking in “paths of righteousness.” God has given us His Son, His Spirit, His Scriptures, and His saints to enlighten, guide, convict, correct, and encourage us on the journey. When you feel that you are losing direction and purpose, devote yourself more fully to the disciplines of prayer, fasting, and feeding on the Word of God. Tap into the spiritual resources of our Divinely inspired GPS. When all else fails, ask for directions!
A couple of weeks ago, our family enjoyed an awesomely refreshing vacation in Navarre Beach, Florida. I first visited Navarre in 1983 when I was a college student, and Kim and I took the kids there one summer several years ago when Hannah and Coleman were still quite small. More recently, this significantly less-populated stretch of the Florida Panhandle has become an anticipated destination for our family for the last three summers. I’ll have to clarify that last statement a bit, because, last August, Kim and the children made the trip by themselves. I reluctantly, but needfully, stayed behind in Dallas to give attention to some challenges and struggles that I was facing in my life. To date, that was about the hardest thing I had ever done: seeing them off early on a Saturday morning for a 13-hour drive without me, Father Unit, Navigation Man, Defender, Protector, and Designated Driver of the family. With periodic driving relief from Hannah (and a couple of conversations with OnStar), they made the trip just fine.
My absence last year made this year’s trip that much sweeter. We saw family on the way to Florida, and even got to visit with friends who were vacationing nearby while we were there, but mostly we just chilled for a week. With only a few highrise condo buildings and some rental houses (no strip of restaurants and bars, no go carts, bungee jumping, water parks, or putt-putt), your two main options on Navarre Beach are: 1) relax on the beach, or 2) relax in your room. The sand is white; radiantly white! This year there were very few jellyfish, the water was clear and calm, almost like a lake one day. In addition to the dolphins, crabs, pelicans and other sea birds that we usually see, we got to encounter some new sea life this year. We found live sand dollars by groping around in the sand about 50 yards offshore and we encountered sea slugs for the first time; awesome, fascinating, amazing creatures in my Father’s world. I also caught a small, bony, snake-like creature with a long, pointed snout that absolutely did not like the idea of captivity. I didn’t hold it for long! I will share an entire post sometime about Coleman’s love for the water and the sand.
One glorious week. No rush, no schedule, no meetings, no appointments, no deadlines, no expectations, and no razor; just 7 days of enjoying the moment and playing each day by ear. Rest! Respite! Sabbath! It’s such an awesome concept. God recognized our need for it, and He has prepared an eternity of it for His weary children beyond this life of striving, struggling, and suffering. Scripture is pretty stingy with details about what life in eternity is going to be like, so, naturally, we try to fill in the blanks and “work out all the details” to satisfy our curiosity. There are Christians (whom I love and respect) who have scenario-ed Heaven out into a wide variety of possible existences. Some wishfully and sentimentally imagine it being like the holodeck in Star Trek: The Next Generation: a simulated reality reflecting whatever your greatest interests and enjoyments were on earth (fishing, golf, baseball, etc.). Others suggest that Heaven is just going to be a renewed, refreshed, upgraded, tricked-out earth; oh, and our beloved pets will be there, too! Still others say that we are all going to have jobs, be in charge of things, manage cities, etc. I really hope that they are wrong; not so much for theological reasons, just personal ones. I like the idea of an eternal Sabbath. “So there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God,” (Hebrews 4:9). “‘Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on!’ ‘Yes,’ says the Spirit, ‘so that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow with them,'” (Revelation 14:13). Ahhhhhh! That’s more like it. Rest!
And if I’m wrong? No problem! I’ll be in the presence of the Father, Son, Holy Spirit, and the saints of all the ages eternally. I think I can cope. Just keep your dog off my lawn!
No, the subject of this post is not the famous Seminole warrior (whose name is spelled Osceola), but rather an African-American washerwoman named Oseola McCarty (1908-1999) who spent most of her 91 years in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. I first read about her several years ago, but her story entered my consciousness again last week. My family and I were driving through Hattiesburg on our return from vacationing in Florida, and, as we passed the campus of The University of Southern Mississippi, I spotted the words “Oseola McCarty Hall” above the entry to a beautiful dormitory building. How did a stately building on a major college campus in the Deep South come to bear the name of a black laundry lady?
Oseola McCarty and her mother moved to Hattiesburg from nearby Wayne County when she was a little girl. She left school during her sixth grade year so that she could care for a disabled, childless aunt. Oseola would never have an opportunity to return to school. As a very young woman, Oseola began taking in laundry to help supplement the family income (her mother worked as a cook) and to support her grandmother and her aunt. Oseola never married and had no children. Her grandmother died in 1944, her mother in 1964, and her aunt in 1967.
For over 75 years, Oseola McCarty washed and ironed the clothing of well-to-do residents in Hattiesburg, working for as many as three generations within some families. Oseola worked hard. She worked and saved. She didn’t expend much income for her own upkeep. She maintained a modest frame house, never owned a car (she pushed a shopping cart over a mile each way to do her grocery shopping), picked up broadcast TV stations on her black and white set, and made do without air conditioning in the steamy Gulf Coast heat. As the years rolled on, bank personnel began to notice the size of her accumulating savings and offered her counsel and assistance in protecting and investing her money.
In 1995, Miss McCarty met with a bank official and an attorney for whom she had worked for years and informed them that, while she wanted to leave some money to her church and a few relatives, she wanted to leave the bulk of her estate to Southern Miss for scholarships, primarily for African-American students who could not otherwise attend due to financial hardship. “I’m too old to get an education,” she said, “but they can. They used to not let colored people go out there, but now they do, and I think they should have it!” What an amazing, selfless, forgiving spirit! The bank official placed dimes on her kitchen table to represent tenths of her estate, and Oseola identified where she wanted the money to go: 10% to her church, 30% to her relatives, and 60% to Southern Miss, a gift of $150,000 to the university!
Oseola McCarty’s gift made international news. In the four years that followed, prior to her death in 1999, Oseola received an honorary degree from Southern Miss (the first of its kind in school history), an honorary doctorate from Harvard, the United Nations’ Avicenna Medal, and the Presidential Citizens Medal, the second highest civilian award in the U.S. The new dormitory was posthumously dedicated in her honor in 2002. The endowed Oseola McCarty Scholarship continues to provide needed financial assistance to deserving students. About her gift, Oseola said, “I can’t do everything, but I can do something to help somebody. And what I can do I will do. I wish I could do more.” Wow! I wish I could have known her. And I pray that I can become a lot more like her!
Thinking Out Loud 
