In the Fall of 1984, I was sitting in Freshman English in a small classroom in
Inman, S.C. Standardized Tests were given out and we answered about 200 questions, in hopes that we would begin thinking about our futures. As a Freshman, I was not thinking a lot about anything, unless it was girls, and that job did not pay too well.
After thinking about the test and carefully answering each question, I turned it in. Mr. Burns, the bearded English prof said, "Thanks, Mr. Jenkins," and off to the computer tabulation center it went.
About 6 weeks later the results came back. What was the proposed course for my future? Well, here goes:
1- Crime Scene Investigator- Now this is before the barrage of TV series about murder and figuring out
whodunnit, only Jack
Klugman, as Quincy was doing this well at this time. I was encouraged at the prospect of this career. I liked Quincy, he lived on a boat and that helped with the ladies.
2- Writer
3- Teacher
Now I am sure that some of you are surprised that I did not score well in the preaching area. Now that I think about it, you may not be surprised at all. Some of you may be saying, "
Ahh, so that explains his problem." I did some research about the
CSI work and decided I was not interested in all the Math and chemistry needed to
succeed in this field. I have a few friends that are math nerds. I like them, in fact I like them a lot, but my mind just does not work that way.
It is funny though how I have not been able to escape dealing with death and dying. As a minister it happens all the time. People often ask about my congregation and what kind of people I work with. I reply, "From Womb to Tomb." The past three weeks I have dealt heavily in death and it seems to
be everywhere I look.
Several weeks ago, I got a call from my uncle concerning the declining health of my Grandmother. I grabbed 5 days worth of clothes, a few books, and my Funeral Garb. You see, I even have special clothes to "Marry 'em or Bury 'em." The Geneva Gown is black with ruffles sleeves and looks very formal and solemn. I though black had a slimming effect, but somehow I think it does not apply with me.
The drive of 4 hours to the upstate of SC is one that I enjoy. Especially when I am alone. My mind takes me many places and often I get lost in the music and memories and wake out of my Daze around Columbia, SC. The car is a place where I clear my mind and has been the
birthplace of many sermons. I do not do it much anymore, but I have been known to drive around and get lost and end up in the middle of nowhere. But, I drive still.
On that trip home, I thought a lot about my Grandmothers life. She was married over 50 years to my Pop. (There is a story about him on down in the blog--Check it out) In ways, she never recovered from his death. She lost 2 sons to tragedy and illness, and spent her life in a hard working but simple manner. If anything would make me lose my faith, it would be to lose my son in a tragedy. I guess that is one of those fears of mine that borders on the irrational, but the shroud of death is there. Although she suffered all that loss---she never lost her faith.
A stroke had left her unable to walk and becoming less able to talk and interact. I entered the hospital room and approached the bed. I grasped her hand and moved toward her ear, "How you doing, sweetie?" She was barely able to get out the reply, but it still came, "One Day at a time, Richard, One Day at a Time." The voice of a fellow walker on this road of life spoke from my soul, "Aren't we all, Grandma....Aren't we all." A day later, she stopped eating and drinking.
I spent about 5 days there. What does one do when death is coming? What is there to do beside one who cannot even talk anymore? I told Grandma that she was the best Strawberry Cake maker ever. I touched her face. I dipped a little mouth sponge on a stick into mouthwash to give her a fresh mouth. I helped nurses change a diaper and give a bath and realized that she once gave my Dad a bath and changed diapers too.
Her last remaining son is only 5 years older than me. He was a late gift to them. I have a pic of my Dad in a Graduation gown holding his little brother. Now that is a surprise! He has not had an easy time. Being raised by aging parents, competing with stories and memories of brothers that are dead. Dead people don't make mistakes, and sometimes his were magnified. The past few weeks have brought us closer. I have been able to meet his new wife and share a meal in their home. We were able to pray together and encourage each other and tell a few stories that brought smiles. Even her death has been a source of unity and reconciliation.
Driving to the hospital one morning, a little pup ran full speed out in front of me. I dodged to miss him and He kept running. Where to...? He was running toward a graveyard. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw gray hairs peeking through the red on my goatee.
I drove past a telephone pole that my buddy, Brent Blackwell ran his
camaro into in 1986. It was in front of a mortuary. He lived, but the pole was still crooked.
I grabbed a paper and read about death. Local, State, National, and World....death.
We seem so separated from God, we seem so seperated from each other. We seem to be trapped by our fears and problems. What is our Hope? Is there an answer?
Romans 8:38-39And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.
One evening, I looked over and my grandmother was playing with her wedding band. I couldn't help thinking that she was thinking about my Pop. I thought about their love and a deeper love as well.
Because she is His Bride--Death has been conquered
Because Death has been conquered-She has no need to fear
Because she has no need to fear--She has peace
Because she has peace-she is longing for him.
Because she longs for Him--He comes to get her
He comes to get her--because she is His bride.
Years ago at the lake, Grandma would call me or Amy and ask us to meet her at the fence. She would make me Strawberry Cake or make Amy a chocolate pie. There were more calls to Amy than me--but who's counting! We would reach over the fence and reach over to get the prize, a gift of her love.
Christ would meet my Grandma on Friday evening. She was wrapped in His righteousness as she entered into heaven. Jesus met her at the gate and ushered her in. He reached across and offered the gift of healing and restoration---and she will never be the same.
No matter what you are struggling with today, Jesus is there to meet you at the Fence and offer what you need. I have a feeling that if he can conquer Sin and Death and Hell...you are a piece of cake. Not strawberry, that is all mine...but you are a piece of cake. Reach out, he is there for you!!
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