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When babies are made, that takes a few months.
When a man is made, that takes a few years.
When a patriarch/matriarch is made, that takes a lifetime.
You can’t hurry up and have a legacy.
Legacies take time.
Perhaps this explains why there are so few legacy lives to study today. Americans have an extreme aversion to anything that is slow. Anything that cannot be mechanized or technology improved is somewhat frustrating to us. We are the people who stand impatiently in front of the microwave tapping our feet and checking our watches because it’s taking 45 seconds to heat what we want to eat.…
On October 30, 2007 the greatest man I have ever known slipped the surly bonds of earth and kissed the face of God.
A life well lived, a song well sung, a sermon well preached, a love properly given. No one felt that almost 75 years was long enough, but we didn’t want to see the strong, manly hero we had followed live in a worn, decrepit body either. So we gathered that morning without anyone calling us together—we each came separately to the room where Daddy was resting.
As we measured his respirations decreasing we ignored the counsel of the nursing staff telling us to call for them at a particular time. Standing around Daddy’s bed were the children he fathered and the woman who birthed them for him…we held his big hands, stroked his handsome face and reiterated our love for him. My youngest daughter had written him a beautiful, personal, heartfelt note and I read it to him, and my siblings each took their time talking to Daddy, too. I watched as my mother showed great love to the lover of her life as we sensed him moving down the hall of eternity.
His breathing slowed and we measured it with a clock on the wall. It was 7:55 AM on the 12th floor of a hospital in The Medical Center in Houston, Texas, when the angels arrived at the bedside of Franklin Garner Jones; my bishop, my mentor, my friend and my daddy. The angels had to elbow their way in because my brother, my sister and her husband, and my mother and I were standing around the bed watching the beautiful and horrific story unfold.
And just as Dad had done with every struggle he ever faced in his whole life, he nailed death. He didn’t back up to death, he didn’t run from death, and although he wasn’t looking for death, he embraced death as the strong man he always was.
He exhaled life.
The kindest, gentlest, strongest man that I have ever known went to be with Jesus eight years ago today, and I miss him.
Seven years ago this morning the world as I knew it changed. All of my life I tied my trust to an anchor, an immovable rock, a bastion of strength that never faded and never faltered. I set my direction and charted my course from the constancy of life displayed by that anchor. At 7:55am on October 30, 2007, that anchor moved.
Friendship is one of the uniquely human things of all the species living on the planet. While other members of God’s creation have special bonds with one another, it is humanity that builds friendships spanning time and barriers. There are many versions of the quote that says, “If you get to the end of your life and can count X number of friends, you are fortunate.” I’m sure that statement is made from someone’s observation and experience with people who stayed and with people who walked away. …
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1. Recognize God as the Owner– deal with the spirit of mammon. Mammon uses money to get a hold of people’s hearts and promises everything that only God can provide (Matthew 6:24). Most people think that more money will be the solution to their problems, but statistics show that within two years most people will completely destroy or consume any bonus or raise they receive. That means if you don’t make good stewardship decisions, you will be at the same level of poverty regardless of raises and bonuses.…
I have complained for months about my inability to see very well from my right eye. My left eye is clear and my right eye resembles a foggy windshield, a sometimes hazy picture, like stepping in from the cold into the warm and everything turns opaque – – but only in my right eye. My eye surgeon is one of the greatest in the country, but he’s not the easiest to get to. He has a bevy of people around him who are bright and young and eager to solve whatever ocular degenerative cases may be approaching Dr. Mann. So it’s often difficult to get to see “the man” because the up-and-coming brilliant minds can usually solve your problem.…
As I write the title of my blog I realize how cliché–ish this phrase can be. Of course time passes. I sure hope that isn’t my best thought for the day… that is, unless I really am able to comprehend what I’m saying.…