Valentine Gifts

The year was 1973. At the beginning of the year, gas was still cheap, and you could still buy a car for less than $4,000 fully loaded. Skylab was launched, the World Trade Center and the Sears Tower opened. There were no cell phones, there was no internet - which meant that when you met someone, you did it in person. In 1973, I fell head over heels in love.

I had been recruited by my friend Ernie Tidwell to play basketball for Bethesda Baptist Church. It was a church that I had gone to when I was little, but once we moved out in the country, that ended my church activity. But I loved to play basketball, so I agreed to give up a Sunday morning a month to have a chance to play.

When I came back home from UGA, I left most of my friends behind - still at school. Ernie and I had worked together the summer before I left and reconnected once I started Macon Junior. So when he asked me to come to his girlfriend's house to hang out and play board games, I readily accepted. Once there, I can remember being in the living room when through a swinging door from the kitchen came the most beautiful girl I had (and have) ever seen. Pick up a thesaurus and dump out all the adjectives.

Then look for some verbs to describe what I felt. Stunned, stupefied, gobsmacked - I'll run out of those too quickly. I honestly went home thinking I had made a fool out of myself, trying not to be noticed looking at her eyes, her smile, or listening too intently when she laughed. I tried to act normal, but I'd never ever felt that way before.

On the way home I kept replaying the evening. And yet she was Ernie's girl, so I did my best to be a good friend to him and to her. We rode to basketball games together for the next couple of months, and continued to hang out from time to time. For them it seemed nothing had changed, but for me, everything had - and I didn't know what to do about it.

Valentine's came along though, and of course I didn't have a girlfriend. And Bunny was still Ernie's girl. But I felt like I needed to give her a gift, as a friend of course. So I bought her a Beatles poster. I almost didn't give it to her - I was afraid she'd think I was weird. (By then, she'd have already picked up on that, but teenage emotions cloud your reasoning.) With everything I had in me, I wanted her to like that poster, and wrapped in it not so discretely, me.

It was the first time in my life that I knew that if I could have anything in this life, I wanted Bunny Clinard as my love forever, and my first action in hopes that my wish might come true.

This is our 42nd February. For me, it began right there.

And to this day, I have never forgotten that feeling, and I have never stopped thanking God for giving me my heart's desire.

Happy Valentine's day, my love.

The Long Walk

Bunny and I had boys, so I'll never experience what my Father in love did that December day back in 1973. Curtis Clinard had boys too - three of them - but he had only one daughter. And on that day, he took a long walk down the aisle of Bethesda Baptist Church and gave her hand to me.

He'd have been 86 today.

And right now, I'm sitting at the desk he used for so many years to prepare thousands of Sunday School lessons. I'm working on tomorrow's sermon about heaven - the place where God will dry every tear - and thanking God for Curtis Clinard's gifts to me.

First among them was my bride, who has been everything I had ever dreamed of or hoped for in a wife. She's just amazing in so many ways - an awesome Mother to two boys, a great pastor's wife, a soul mate and one true love. There aren't enough words to say everything I could say about her and what having her in my life has meant to me.

But Curtis gave me more than just my bride's hand. 

He gave me an example of how a Christian man should live. Over the years I had some opportunities to call on some of his old customers when he was with Carnation-Albers. When I'd mention his name, every one of them would ask two things, "How do you know Curtis?, and "how's he doing?"

Had one laugh out loud when I told him that I had married Curtis' daughter. "You must be some salesman. I'll bet that was a tough sale, because Curtis loved his daughter." I smiled right back and said, "You better believe it was - but it sure was worth it. I got the woman of my dreams and married into a great family to boot." 

In every instance of meeting someone who knew him in a business relationship, I heard of Curtis' integrity and genuine desire to build relationships with people and help his customers any way he could. For someone who was just starting out in sales, it was a great lesson. To have people would remember me 10 years or more later in that same way became my goal.

Having Curtis as my father in law was truly a gift from God. One that is still shaping how I live and relate to God and others to this day. If following God is truly a "long walk in the same direction" as Eugene Peterson has written, then Curtis' long walk marked a trail for me to follow, as it did for others as well.

Curtis had a wonderful journey in this life, for God had blessed him with his one true love, Dot. When she passed away, there was less of him. The next few years were not nearly as full of joy as when they were together, but he still brightened up when family came by.

And then he was gone too. 

As I finish my sermon on heaven for tomorrow, I'm sure Curtis would approve. The title is "Count Me In" and he already has been.

Happy birthday Curtis.

See you later. 

A Witness In Wood

I took this picture a few years ago. It was at this desk, where a man built a career. He rose from salesman, to territory manager, to manage a district for a major multinational company. He'd leave his family late Sunday night or early Monday each week and drive all over the Southeast, returning on Friday. Later on, he'd fly to distant places and meet a salesman that he'd hope to help become better. But every Friday, he'd be home.

Saturday night he'd study his Sunday School lesson at this desk, preparing to teach the class he led for decades.  He was the picture of an expository Bible teacher, and could have been a good preacher if God had led him there. His calling was broader - husband, father, servant, Sunday School teacher. I can remember the men in his class and the respect they had for him as a teacher. But it wasn't just his teaching they were looking at - it was the way he lived his life. There are lots of ways to teach. He led by precept, principles, and by his practices. 

He retired from his career, and came home. Enjoyed his wife, his kids and his grandchildren - had a garden, and a shop downstairs. He and one of his long-time friends started a little business building furniture and fixing things in homes. They had a ball helping people, though I doubt they made anything from it. Still every Saturday night would find him sitting at this desk, preparing his lesson. Broadman's Commentary, Standard Sunday School Lessons, Open Bible, Amplified - were the tools of this teacher. In retirement, he did more around the church and around the house. He continued to encourage his pastor, to love his family, and to serve as an example of a true Christian man for us all, until His maker called him home.

In the aftermath, Bunny was struck with the realization that both her parents were gone. Having been through that myself years ago, I knew the feeling of having no "roots" or "pillars" to lean on that losing your parents can bring. There are still times when it sneaks up on me, and Bunny still misses her Mom and Dad a great deal. They were such a blessing.

When Bunny's oldest brother asked her what she would like to have of the things left behind, initially she couldn't think of anything. Then I remembered Curtis' desk. It was such a part of who I saw him as, and Bunny remembered him sitting at it from when she was a little girl. She had recollections of going up to him sitting there to ask him for a new dress, of the crazy "finger in a box" toy, and the silly "goofy glasses" her very reserved daddy would pull out and create laughter. This simple piece of wood was so tied to both of our memories of him - who he was, we quickly agreed we'd love to have it. So she asked with the stipulation that if one of her brothers wanted it, they should have it.

It's here. We brought it down from Georgia a couple of weeks ago.

Every Saturday night I go in my office and sit at that desk as I prepare the powerpoint for tomorrow's message and go over the lesson for Bible Study. I am very conscious of the legacy left me through the memories of Curtis Clinard. His love for Christ was real and penetrated every area of his life. 

So when I sit down, it's as if his hand is on my shoulder. And how I wish it was.

Thank you again Curtis. You trusted me with your precious daughter, encouraged and guided me through my married life, and continue to give me a standard to aspire to. I could not have asked for a better Father In Love. See you later my friend. Say hello to Ballard for me, and give Dot a kiss.