A Day in the Life, Wednesday, July 11, 2012

9:42 a.m. – Feed and water cats. That encompasses four feed bowls and four water bowls, half upstairs and half downstairs. Four cats eat a lot. One of them weighs 25 pounds, okay, 24 ½. I generally check their food three times a day and change the water twice.

10:20 – Brush teeth. Finally found a good dentist. I wanna keep her happy…

10:30 – Shave.

10:45 – Shower and get ready, finish packing, head to church and help load van. Kelly and I are going on a mission trip today along with about 20 other folks from the church. One of our former members, Rodney Mileski, is now a church planter in Carmel, a suburb of Indianapolis just on the north/northeast side of town, and we're going to work with him. Of course Indy is about a 110-mile drive north of us. I’ll drive the new church van, along with luggage and equipment. I'll also be pulling a trailer for the first time in 31 years, and only the second time I've done that. John Borengasser, our minister of music and administration, will be driving the new mini-bus. Neither are brand new, just new to us…

12:57 – Head for Carmel. Stop in Seymour, the home of John Cougar Mellencamp, because the bus is running hot. Pit stop at a service station/mini-mart there, make a few phone calls to seek help and advice. Dan Fidler tells us to idle the bus and let it cool off, then don’t drive as fast. If it gets over 58 mph it begins heating up. So the second half of the trip on I-65 to Indy is a lot slower than the first half.

Check into hotel about 4 p.m. We’re at the Staybridge Inn and Suites in Fishers, right next to Carmel. Got a good rate on the rooms there.

Along with a free breakfast, the hotel also serves a free dinner between 4 and 7 in the evenings (during the week, not on weekends). First night is burgers cooked out in the hotel’s courtyard, and they are delicious.

After dinner, went to the park we’ll be working out of all week, Meadowlark Park near downtown Carmel. We’re told to canvas the neighborhood and promote the “VBS in the Park” we’ll be doing for the next three mornings. We can’t knock on apartment doors but we can approach people who are outside. Dick Zuberer, my Sunday School teacher at church who I’ll be rooming with, is with me as well as 17-year-old Rebecca Woolsey, who probably kept people from yelling at us with her presence. Truth is though, the people are very polite and friendly, and one woman tells us she’s living with her sister, who has four kids that probably need to be in the Bible School. That contact might yet pan out for Rodney, but those kids were not at the VBS. We walked a very busy bike/hiking trail which led downtown, and talked with several people along the way…

Our room would be Grand Central Station at the hotel, the meeting place for devotionals in the morning and lunches two or three days during the week, plus other meetings. We went to a nearby Meijer and picked up some groceries, loading up the fridge and buying some pork I would cook the next morning for lunch that day. Got 48 bottles of water for 6 bucks. They lasted about two days and we had to go back for more later in the week. Also had soft drinks in the fridge. One night our door got knocked on about 25 times, but it was hot up there, and we were all tired and thirsty…

Stayed up till about 1:30 talking and fellowshipping with Dick, which would be about average for our bedtime. Set the wake-up call for 6:45, he took the couch in the living room and let me have the kingsize bed. I didn’t argue with him about that…

Just Hurt

Lay down on the living room couch,
Try to think of somewhere to go.
Before you know it the lights are out,
No longer aware how time goes by so slow.
You're asleep don't you know?
You keep thinking that someday,
Someone's gonna love you anyway
Despite all your faults.
You're not surprised when no one calls.
Just hurt.
Maybe you should get a phone.
Don't think it would matter though
You've always been alone.
And quiet.
When people say that you don't think they're right.
They're just not listening,
Or just not at peace.
But still they act happy - at least.
You're not Robert Redford
Nor are you an actor.
Your eyes aren't blue.
If you dream you dream of love - and someone new.
And you know you just can't win - you'll only lose.
You just hurt.
Just hurt.

Copyright 1977 by Randy Hartley

The Best BBQ in Louisville?

In my quest to find the best BBQ in the Louisville area, Alice, Kelly and I ate at Shane's Rib Shack this afternoon. I prefer South Carolina style BBQ, cooked in vinegar and pepper with the sauce on the side, but for pork cooked in sauce, Shane's was not just the best in the Louisville area but perhaps the best I've ever had. The meat wasn't slathered in sauce, but had just the right amount and the sauce was very tasty. Appropriate sides were Brunswick stew and fried okra. The sweet tea wasn't up to par, and the perfect topper would've been banana pudding (which they didn't have), but in my 27 years here I haven't found a better place to eat BBQ, yet. Until and unless I come across something better, Shane's is king of the 'ville...

A Preacher's Bible

I only wish I had written this, but I am reading through one of his Bibles (maybe this one) in my quiet times now. I take it to church with me and use it during my home Bible studies with Jehovah's Witnesses:

I do not look particularly special or imposing; just an old King James Bible with a somewhat battered cover and pages worn with time and much use, and with verses underlined and notes scribbled in the margins. I am not his only Bible – many of my brothers, older or younger than I, were carried and read and studied and used by him, for the better part of six decades. But, like all of the others, I was loved and honored and believed by him…and most of all I was preached by him.
For Clyde Hartley was a preacher, and that makes me a preacher’s Bible. In the 12 churches he pastored from one end of Alabama to the other, he preached. Revivals and supply preaching, he preached. Every opportunity he got, he preached. Without boasting, I say there is something special about a preacher’s Bible. All Bibles are precious and powerful and important to the saints of God who believe them, but I was privileged to be owned by a preacher – by an old soldier of the cross.
I have ridden in his car with him, walked into pulpits with him, accompanied him to gravesides, kept watch with him on long dark nights, listened as he said, “You may kiss the bride,” and helped him give counsel and comfort to those seeking it.
I don’t know how many sermons have been preached from my pages, but it is many. I could not say how many souls have come to Jesus through my Gospel, but the number is great. I do not know how many lives have been influenced or how many people helped by the preacher and me, but it is a vast multitude, for he preached many years and touched many people.
He preached about Jericho and Jerusalem and Jabesh-Gilead.
About Samson and Samuel and Saul of Tarsus.
About Heaven and hell, and the rich man and Lazarus.
About blind Bartimaeus, Peter, John the Baptist, and doubting Thomas.
Little Zacchaeus in the sycamore tree, and John on the Isle of Patmos.
About Moses, Daniel, the three Hebrew children, Abraham, Joseph, Nicodemus, Elijah, Noah, Solomon, and the woman at the well.
He preached salvation, and said, “All have sinned,” and, “The wages of sin is death but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord,” and, “God commendeth His love toward us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us,” and, “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father but by me.”
He preached about sin and the second coming.
About love and holiness and power.
About hope and peace and mercy.
About grace and goodness and glory.
About The Great Commission, The Great Physician, and The Great Shepherd.
About David and Goliath, Paul and Silas, Ruth and Naomi, Cain and Abel, and Jonah and the whale.
And most of all, above all, he preached Jesus. His birth, life, death, resurrection and return. His beauty, power, wisdom, and His ministry at the right hand of the throne of God.
And because I knew the man personally, I can say: he lived what he preached. He walked with God, had great faith, looked for a new Heaven and a new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness…and in so doing left a legacy for those who follow.
And now the preacher’s voice is silent, and his form is stilled.
But his work remains, and in that City he preached about so often he has found that every word I gave him was true, for he knows now the One who wrote me.
So now we’ll say our amens and goodbyes and depart, but we will expect to meet again soon, because he and I have told you to expect that.
If he were here he would take me and open me and read me and tell you one last time: “God loves you,” and, “Ye must be born again,” and, “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”
Now I’ll go home with someone, and be put in a place of safekeeping, and perhaps be used very little for the rest of my days. But that is all right with me. Like the preacher who owned me I have finished my course. But when you take me out and look at me and handle me, treat me with the honor and respect due God’s Word, and with a little more besides.
Because in my younger days…
I was Clyde Hartley’s Bible.

By Ricky Emery, Baptist preacher and Clyde Hartley’s son-in-law, for his funeral Aug. 1, 2008.

Sunday in the South (Feb. 28, 2010)

As we drove over the mountain from Arab (Ala.), beautiful Lake Guntersville came into view. A wave of nostalgia hit 14-year-old Kelly, and suddenly she was 5 again and on her way to hear “Pox” preach at his church.
We arrived at the church, Mt. Carmel Baptist (on Georgia Mountain), between 10:30 and 11, went in a side door and began to run into people who recognized us simply because I do look like my dad. For me, it took a while for some of the names and faces and their positions in the church to fall into place, but before the day was over I had connected most of the dots.
Sandra Preston came up to me and hugged my neck, then burst into tears. “You look so much like your dad,” she said.
We took our seats near the front of the sanctuary, where we had always sat when we visited the church and where my mother sat to listen to my dad’s preaching.
The current pastor, Dean Timbes, was new to me, but he talked about how in his nearly five decades of ministry he had never been in a church where the name of the former pastor came up as much as Clyde Hartley’s name did. My dad loved his church, and they loved him in return.
I had never heard the choir, led by Jennie Clark and accompanied by Mandy Chandler, sound better. Seeing Jennie reminded me of the time she approached Alice and me after Sunday School and told us Faith and Kelly were going to be singing “Amazing Grace.” Kelly was maybe 4 at the time. Alice and I looked at each other and both said, “Kelly doesn’t know ‘Amazing Grace.’” But she stood there anyway with Faith and pretended to sing. Her lips were moving but nothing much was coming out. She’s since become a pretty good singer and does solos in the church quite often. She even knows “Amazing Grace” now.
Chuck Knight was the guest preacher for the morning service. Chuck had been a member of my dad’s church in Albertville, Union Grove Baptist. My dad had baptized Chuck, had given him his first position in a church as his youth minister at Mt. Carmel, and Chuck helped preach my dad’s funeral. He wouldn’t let us pay him for that, saying it was an honor to preach Clyde Hartley’s funeral and he couldn’t take money for it. In his brief message from Philippians 1, he talked about how he had been a Timothy to my dad’s Paul. I noticed further on down in that chapter the words my dad quoted in the days shortly before his death, in verse 21, “For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.”
After Chuck’s sermon the original building committee was called forward to read the plaque that dedicated the new educational building and fellowship hall to my dad’s name, and they burned the note to the building since it was now officially paid for. In part the dedication read, “In gratitude for the labors of all who love & serve this church; in remembrance of those who have finished their course, we celebrate this note burning service this morning.”
The deacon chairman, Don Campbell, spoke of a time that he felt the need to be re-baptized. My dad counseled him about it and told him he knew he was saved, but if being re-baptized would make him feel better then he would do it, and he did. I think Sunday was a pretty emotional day for Don.
The associational director of missions, Randall Stoner, said a prayer of dedication.
The Sunday School superintendent, Johnny Edmonds, shook my hand at least three times. He didn’t have much to say but he did seem to really appreciate that we had made the drive down.
The church provided a pitch-in lunch in the fellowship hall following the service. A few of the members commented to me that my dad always found a way to be at the front of the line when lunch was served. I pointed out that he was usually the one to say the prayer, and he’d position himself by the table at the front of the line to do it. When I was around I’d usually stand next to him, because I knew his tricks…
Bro. Timbes, Bro. Stoner and I talked some and discovered we had mutual friends, some I had gotten to know through the campus ministries at Jacksonville State, and some from other places.
While we were talking to one of the church members, Joan Hughes, Kelly mentioned that the only thing missing from the day was the Juicy Fruit gum that “Nana” used to give her during the worship service to keep her occupied.
One new couple in the church introduced themselves to me. They had family from Roanoke, in east central Alabama where I had grown up. They asked if I knew any Brooks. Dave Brooks has been my best friend for 39 years and this was his cousin. So we talked for awhile.
Until a cute little 20-year-old girl stood in front of me and I asked, “Am I supposed to know you?” I knew who she was. Alex Hughes is the same age as my oldest daughter, Faith. They somehow had maintained a friendship of sorts over the years even though they hardly ever saw each other. The way she stood there and smiled as she talked to me, I knew she had to be smiling because I reminded her of my dad.
Alice, Kelly and I had our picture taken holding the dedication plaque close to where it’s supposed to be placed. Then we changed clothes and went on out to the car.
We drove by my folks’ old yellow brick house on Lindsey Lane across the road from Lake Guntersville just to see the old homestead, and then we began the seven-hour journey back to Southern Indiana. Kelly bought some Juicy Fruit gum along the way…

Redeeming the Time

A devotional on the importance of maintaining a daily quiet time:

Colossians 4:
2 - Continue in prayer, watching in it with thanksgiving, 3 - praying together also concerning us, 4 - in order that God may open to us an opportunity to spread the word, to speak the mystery of Christ, the cause for which indeed I have been bound, in order that I may manifest it as it behooves me to speak. 5 - Walk in wisdom toward unbelievers, redeeming the time.

We are commanded in 1 Thessalonians 5:17 to “pray continually.” According to John Pollock, Billy Graham was once asked how often he prays. He answered, “All the time.” While I served as a counselor in two Billy Graham Crusades (in Louisville and Indianapolis), I never had the opportunity to meet him. But I don’t believe Billy Graham prays “all the time.” I think that more likely he has an attitude of prayer at all times.
In Colossians 4 we are urged to continue in prayer. Prayer should be a part of our daily quiet time, as we seek God to direct our steps. It should also be a part of our daily walk, and we should continue in an attitude of prayer throughout the day. We are likewise urged in verse 2 to “watch in it with thanksgiving.” As we study prayer in the Bible, it can be noted that thanksgiving is the proper way to approach the throne of God. We don’t go in with our petitions, and list everything we want and expect from God. We go in with a right attitude, approaching Him as the Supreme Being of the entire universe, and as our close friend, being thankful for what He has already supplied us with.
“Watching in it” – the first circumstance that brings to mind is Gethsemane, where Christ prayed before he was crucified. And all He asked his friends to do while He prayed was to watch and wait. And of course they fell asleep. That’s what this is conveying to us to avoid. Rise, be awake, stay awake…
The apostle Paul here is asking for the prayers of the saints so that he may have an open door to spread the Gospel, to testify about Christ, which is exactly what got him into trouble in the first place. He still yearns for chances to speak about Jesus as the Spirit moves him.
Verse 5 is the focal point of this study. We are to walk in wisdom as we witness. “Redeeming the time” in this instance is an imperative to make the most of what we have, in time and in opportunities, to rescue the time from being lost. There are 1440 minutes in a day. We don’t get any of them back. Use them wisely…
God expects us to tithe our money. We know that. We’re expected to give at least a tenth of what we have. But tithing should include not only a tenth of our money, but a portion of our time as well. Jesus spent time, and lots of it, in worship, thanksgiving, prayer, meditation and spreading the Good News. Shouldn’t we follow His example?

Take Up Thy Cross and Follow Me

One weekend, when I was 25 years old, I was invited to go to a Missions Conference with a vanload of students from the Baptist Campus Ministries group from Jacksonville State (Ala.), where I was in my first year there as a student. I wasn’t interested in the conference, but I was interested in getting out of Jacksonville for the weekend, so I rode along.

That Friday night, 30 years ago today (Feb. 20), I committed my life to the Lord. Until then, I didn't know what having Jesus as the Lord of my life meant.
As the son of a Southern Baptist pastor, I had grown up in church. I knew all the Bible stories. I knew all the right answers. I had the head knowledge. But Jesus did not rule in my heart as the Lord of my life. Then, at Binkley Chapel on the Southeastern Seminary campus in Wake Forest, N.C., through the preaching of William Hendricks and the music of Ken Medema, the scales fell from my eyes, and that knowledge was opened to understanding.
I didn't know what the future would hold (still don't), but I knew I didn't want to face it without God. And I promised Him I'd go anywhere He wanted me to go and do anything He wanted me to do. And I've tried to follow that promise since. I'm still open to going anywhere He wants me to go, and doing anything He wants me to do.

I wish everyone could have that same experience, to come to the point in their lives where they understand what really following Jesus means. It gave me a sense of purpose and direction I had never known before, and turned my life completely around.

Matthew 16:24 immediately became an important verse to me, where Jesus said, “If anyone wishes to come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross, and follow me.” Simply put Jesus is asking us to forfeit our lives to Him and let Him decide how we’re to live them. Of course that’s easier said than done, but studying the Bible as often as you can, every day if you can, and praying makes it a more attainable goal. As Christians we shouldn't make decisions without God's guidance.

Another passage from Matthew that soon became important to me was The Great Commission, in chapter 28, verses 18-20. Jesus assured His disciples just before He ascended into Heaven, “And lo I AM with you alway, even unto the end of the world.” I took that assurance to heart.

Ironically, of course, these are considered to be “missions” verses, and even though I wasn’t interested in missions before I left for that weekend, I am now, and have been since. I may not get paid to be a missionary, but I certainly feel called and ordained by God to be a missionary, and feel that call is meant for every other Christian as well.