Christ Animated

I bought a pill box recently. It's small, delicate and cost me one dollar at an estate sale. I bought it because -- for some reason -- it reminded of my grandmother. I don't recall ever seeing her with a pill box. But it looks like something I might have seen in her house. I saw it ... and I immediately missed her. She died 20 years ago. Never saw more than one of my five kids. Never met two of my brother's children, or either of my sister's. I look forward to the day we are all in glory together and they meet one another. A lot of memories. A lot of love. From a $1 pill box.

This was written a few years ago ... Homecoming. Sunday, Chunky Baptist Church will celebrate its homecoming. My brother is the guest speaker. Lunch will follow. For a lot of us, the word "homecoming" has certain connotations -- food, fellowship, honoring a person or group, celebration, memories, friends and family. Whether associated with church, sports or anything else, little changes. But for those of us who don't live, worship or attend that "home" anymore, it's not a coming, it's a going. We're home-going. We plan, anticipate and travel in order tk be a part of the event. We're going back home. So the emphasis of the word lies really with those who are inviting. For them it is a homecoming because others will come home to where they are waiting ... to feast, fellowship, remember and catch up. I love going home. I love visiting with my family and friends and seeing how people have grown physically and otherwise. But I think what I l

“Whatcha know good?” That’s a question I have been asked occasionally over many years. And every time I’m asked, I try to think about it before I answer: What do I know that’s good? I know a lot that’s good. I know that my oldest niece is getting married in Alabama this coming weekend to the man she’s loved for years. He’s been a part of the family for about that long, anyway. We love them both and they are a great pair. I think this moment of Shelby and Graham becoming man-and-wife is something that’s very good. I know that on the same day, on the West Coast, my daughter-in-law Arianna will be standing with her mother Zina to support her as she marries a godly man who swept her off her feet. That’s good. I know that my children are all healthy and doing well. That’s so good. I know that puppies and animals of all sorts still make me smile. I know that I will laugh loudly at videos of cats jumping and missing their intended targets. Every time. So good. I know that the c

One high school weekend, a friend of mine and I decided to take a walk through the majestic forests of Chunky. Well, the pine trees and undergrowth. Let’s not argue over details. We threw rocks, climbed through electric fences, pretended to shoot squirrels and tried not to step in anything that might bite us or make us smell worse than we probably already did. I have no idea whose property we trespassed on, but I offer a slightly belated apology. At one point in the day, we walked in the drainage ditches alongside the interstate, yelling at each other over the roar of 18-wheelers and other traffic on the asphalt. We walked inside one of the biggest culverts I’ve ever stood in and I remember the awe and timidity at realizing we were just yards below thousands of pounds of speeding vehicles and their cargo. We were safe, but I knew the danger was there, not far away. I remembered the trek this past weekend on Veterans Day. I thought of the dangers that are out of my line of sight and oft