In the meantime

Well Done, Good and Faithful Servant

I have written several times here about my father-in-law, Rev. Asa Dorsey, who over the last 76 years has become a legendary figure in North Georgia. (See links to articles below). On December 23, as we were preparing to spend Christmas Day at his home with the family, Asa suffered a heart attack and was hospitalized. Over the course of the next several days it became apparent things would not go back to normal as he became weaker and weaker. He suffered at least two more small heart attacks in the hospital, further weakening his already frail heart.  

Those days visiting him in the hospital were precious times that we will treasure for the rest of our lives. It was an incredible gift from God that despite the weakness of his body, his keen mind and phenomenal memory were with him until his final breath. Just hours before he passed, he related to his nurse how in the late 1950s he named his mill after his newborn daughter, Fonda. He even remembered the name of the clerk of court he filed the papers with. 

On Friday morning, January 2 at about 10:30 am, Asa slipped away from this life and stepped into the presence of the Lord. 

It is hard to imagine life without him here. It is indeed true that you are never ever ready to let them go, even when they are 93 years old. We have caught ourselves on numerous occasions over the last two weeks picking up the phone to call, or briefly wondering whose weekend it is to be with him, before quickly being hit with the reality and the finality of the fact that he is gone. 

For the last 26 years, we have celebrated Asa's ministry on the first Sunday in January, the anniversary of the first sermon he preached in January 1933. When we began doing that it was on the occasion of his 50th anniversary, and we assumed we were honoring him at the end of his ministry and his life. Little did we know he still had one-third of his ministry still ahead of him. 

On the first Sunday in January, 2009, we gathered once again to celebrate Asa's life and ministry, but this time he was not in attendance. As in the years before, there were stories to be told, songs to be sung, and tributes to be given. There was love, laughter and tears. But this year was different because he is home. 

The first time I ever heard Asa preach, I remember he joked about how some people didn't think it was proper or dignified to shout. "Well, if you don't believe in shouting," he said in that booming, joyful voice of his, "when we get to heaven together, you might want to stay off of my cloud!" I thought of that story as I sat in the pew at the memorial service. The mental image of Asa shouting for joy in heaven brought a wide grin to my face and warmth to my heart. 

It has been said that God's gift to us is life, and what we do with it is our gift to him and to the world. God gave Asa Dorsey the gift of life in large measure - 93 years of it. The gift he gave back to God and to us was faithfulness. 

Have a great time in heaven, Asa. We'll see you there in the morning.

Related Posts: 

Happy 92nd, Asa Dorsey 
Honoring a Life Well Lived

Coming Home

In general, I shy away from posting things of a personal nature here, but I know that you will forgive and indulge me sharing this bit of exciting news in our family.  About two hours ago, a plane took of from Johannesburg, South Africa, heading to Paris, starting the first leg of my daughter Faith's trip home.  She left Swaziland Friday and then had a chance to attend the Passion Conference's World Tour in Joburg.

Now at last, she's on her way home.  The last twelve weeks have flown by for all of us, but it still has been a long time.  We've all missed her terribly, although Chris admits to kind of enjoying being an "only child" for the summer, not to mention having the car all to himself.

Her plane arrives in ATL tomorrow afternoon at 1:40 after stops in Paris and Amsterdam.  I'm sure she'll be exhausted, but I know she will have a bunch of stories to tell us about her amazing summer in Swazi.

Tomorrow will be a very momentous day for the Riley family.  Faith arrives home, Chris heads back to work as an ASP worker at an area elementary school, and Fonda has her first day of classes as the Music Specialist at another area elementary school.

I have the best job tomorrow.  I get to be the chauffeur who collects Faith from the airport and brings her home!

Check out Faith's blog from Swaziland here.

The Love of a Mother

Tomorrow is Mother's Day, and throughout the world, sons, daughters and husbands will do what they should be doing already - honoring their mothers and the mother of their children.  It is estimated that Americans alone will spend nearly $5 billion dollars on flowers, jewelry, gifts, dinners and cards to say "I love you" to our moms.

Did you know that this year Mother's Day in the United States is exactly 100 years old?  Julia Ward Howe (who also wrote the words to the "Battle Hymn of the Republic") wrote the first Mother's Day proclamation in 1870, but she was not successful in her effort to get official recognition for the holiday. The first Mother's Day in the U.S. was on May 10, 1908 in Grafton, West Virginia.

Seems like everything and everybody now has their own day.  We set aside days to honor our parents, our grandparents, our bosses, our secretaries, our public servants... the list seems to go on and on.  It would be easy to be cynical and dismiss all of these days as a conspiracy by Florists, greeting card companies and restaurants to make more money.

But we would be missing out on a great opportunity to not only bring happiness to our moms, but to be obedient to God's word.

There is a Bible study principle known as the law of multiple mentions.  In essence this says that if God says something over and over again, it must be pretty important!  Such is the case with the principle of honoring our parents.  It is the fifth of the Ten Commandments and is the only one with a promise attached to it: "Honor your father and mother, that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your God is giving you."  (Exodus 20:12, NKJV)  We are then reminded of that principle repeatedly throughout the Bible.  In Ephesians 6, Paul says, "Children, honor your father and mother for this is right" and then he repeats the fifth commandment and reminds them of the promise - "that you may enjoy long life upon the earth."

Mothers are a wonderful, precious gift from God.  It was in our mother's arms that we first learned about safety, security, and above all, love.  We can easily begin to understand God's unconditional love for us, because we saw that love modeled for us by our mothers, who loved us no matter how badly we messed up.

When we think of our mothers, somehow, "thank you" seems so shallow... so trite compared to what they have done for us.  Some of our best and brightest wordsmiths have attempted to find the words to express what is in our hearts.  Like Abraham Lincoln who said, "All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel Mother."  Or Edgar Allen Poe, known for writing many dark and frightening tales wrote, "The angels, whispering to one another can find, among their burning terms of love, none so devotional as that of 'Mother.'"

Or how about the old Jewish proverb that simply says, "God could not be everywhere and therefore He made mothers."  Or the Irish proverb, "A man loves his sweetheart the most, his wife the best, but his mother the longest."

Perhaps the best and most eloquent was that great philosopher Calvin... not the theologian, the one from the comic strip "Calvin and Hobbes" who said: "Nobody knows how to pamper like a mom."

Let me add my feeble, inadequate words to theirs by simply saying, Happy Mother's Day, Mom... I love you more than words could ever express.

Honoring A Life Well Lived

This past Sunday, my family and I traveled to Cleveland, Georgia to attend a service that was part anniversary, part recognition and all celebration.  It was a service at Union Grove Congregational Holiness Church to commemorate the seventy-fifth anniversary of the first sermon preached by a beloved and legendary Georgia mountain preacher, Rev. Asa Dorsey.

Now in the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that Asa is my father-in-law, so I am hopelessly prejudiced on this subject.  But Sunday morning I was in good company - in a church packed with folks who feel the same way I do about this man.

The first time I ever heard Asa Dorsey preach was at a revival service in Gainesville in the fall of 1975.  I had recently started dating his youngest daughter, so to be honest, I attended the service to hear Fonda sing, not to hear Asa preach (if you have ever heard my wife sing you will understand that perfectly!)  But that night I was mesmerized by Asa's preaching and especially by his staggering ability to quote whole chapters of the Bible word for word, even pausing at the commas!

His preaching career began on Sunday, January 1, 1933 at a home Bible Study in Clarksville, Georgia.  Asa was 17 years old and had been wrestling with a call to the ministry.  The Bible Study leader announced that a brand new gospel preacher would be bringing the message that day.  Asa remembers looking around to see who he was talking about when he heard himself being introduced.  He was stunned. The first thing he did was ask them to join him in prayer.  As he knelt to pray, Asa sensed God saying to him, "The decision you make now will affect the rest of your life." His decision made, he stood and spoke from Romans 8 on the subject of freedom in Christ.

There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death.

Over the next seven-plus decades, Asa would preach at thousands of Sunday morning services and hundreds of revivals and tent meetings all over the South.  He also officiated at over 1,700 funeral services. People in the community who never darkened the door of Asa's church, or sometimes any other church, would ask him to speak at the service for their loved ones.

My most poignant memory of Asa is not of him standing in the pulpit preaching to hundreds of people, it is of him on his knees praying for my son.  When Chris was seven weeks old he had to have neurosurgery.  Asa and Annie Kate drove to Virginia to be with us for his surgery.  That morning before we left for the hospital, we all knelt around his crib.  I cannot recall one word Asa said as he led us in prayer that morning, but never before or since have I felt the power and the presence of God as clearly.

On Sunday morning, historian and journalist Larry Fricks, author of a book on Asa's life entitled The Greatest of These, shared some stories about the impact of Asa's life and ministry on North Georgia, including some that didn't make it into the book. 

Asa, now 92 years old, spoke to the congregation for about ten minutes.  Speaking about the funerals he performed, Asa quoted a line from Shakespeare dealing with the weight of your words as it relates to the weight of grief.  He said he always kept that in mind and tried to bring comfort to the family with words that were lighter, not heavier than the grief they were bearing.  He spoke fondly of the three terms he served as pastor of Union Grove Church, the first one beginning in 1934 when he was only 18 years old.  And he quoted in it's entirety the passage of scripture in Romans that he preached from that Sunday in 1933.

We live in a day where many pastors move all over the country as they climb up the ministry equivalent of the corporate ladder, with each church being larger and more influential than the last.  It is very rare for someone to spend his entire ministry in the same geographic area.  It is even rarer for that ministry career to span the better part of eight decades.  Sunday morning the people of Cleveland, Georgia had a chance to recognize the investment of a life, to honor the man for his dedication and integrity, and to give thanks to the One who called him to serve them seventy-five years earlier.

As he closed his remarks Sunday, Asa compared our lives to a stage.  We enter in the same way through a door called birth, and we all exit the same way through a door called death.  The time in between is lived out on the stage called life. He noted that he was closer than ever to that second door.  "Beyond that door," Asa said, "is everything that I have preached about for the last 75 years... and it's looking better all the time!"

Related: Happy 92nd Asa Dorsey

Note:  Larry Fricks is one of the subjects of a new book written by Meredith Vieira's husband Richard Cohen entitled "Strong At the Broken Places."  Larry, who lives with Bipolar Disorder, travels all over the country as a resource and an advocate for those living with mental illness. The book was profiled on NBC's Today Show this week.  (Click here to view the Today Show segment profiling Larry Fricks.)

Christmas Eve Gift

My family on my father's side had an unusual tradition. 

Many years at Christmas we would travel to my grandparent's house in Alabama on December 23.  We would be there for Christmas Eve day and then head back home that night.  My father was the oldest of seven children, so I had a LOT of uncles, aunts and cousins on that side of the family, most of whom lived nearby.  On December 24, whenever one of the family would arrive at my grandparent's house, they would come through the door saying, "Christmas Eve gift!"

I remember wondering why they said that.  Sometimes they were carrying gifts to put under the tree but at least half of the time they had nothing in their hands as they walked through the door and said, "Christmas Eve gift!"

As an adult, I asked one of my uncles about the family custom.  He smiled and said that the family had been doing that since my father was a little boy.  The meaning behind it was simple, yet profound.  The "gift" they referred to was themselves.  The gift of being together as a family was, after all, the best gift we could give each other.

Some Christmases when my father was growing up, especially during the Great Depression, that was about the only gift that they had to give each other.  But even in the years when there were presents under the tree for all of us, the best gift they gave each other was being together at Christmas.  So they recognized that with the tradition of saying "Christmas Eve gift!" as they arrived to share the special day together.

For the life of me, I can't recall a single material gift that I was ever given at my grandparent's house - even though there was always something under the tree for me.  Whatever those gifts were - perhaps toys, clothing, or books - they have long since faded from my memory.  Yet I can close my eyes and see the faces of my cousins as we talked, laughed and sang together on Christmas Eve.  I can vividly remember what it smelled like in my grandmother's kitchen, and the love and patience showered on me by all of my uncles and aunts.

So they were right.  The gift that we announced as we came through the door and shouted "Christmas Eve gift!" was the best gift, the most valuable gift, and the gift that has stood the test of time: the gift of time spent with those you love.

As you give presents to those you love this Christmas, keep in mind that the best gift you can give is the gift of yourself.  The material things you get and give this year will soon be used up, broken and forgotten.  But the gift of love and time invested in your loved ones will be kept and cherished in their hearts - and in yours - for the rest of our lives.

Some say we give gifts at Christmas to carry on the tradition of the Magi who brought gifts to Jesus.  But when we give the gift of ourselves, we are truly being like the One whose birth we celebrate.  The one who loves us and gave Himself for us so that we could spend eternity together with Him.

Christmas Eve gift!

Daddy Cut My Hair

Today's earlier post (and yesterday's Streaming Faith Daily Devotional) was about forgiveness. As I was writing it, I couldn't help but think of the Michael Kelly Blanchard song "Daddy Cut My Hair."  Several artists have recorded this song including Gary Chapman and Noel Paul Stookey.  Chapman says this is the greatest song about forgiveness that he has ever heard.  I agree.

I had a wonderfully close relationship with my father, but I still cried the first time I heard this song.  In fact, I fight back tears every time I hear it. 

Daddy Cut My Hair
Michael Kelly Blanchard

Daddy cut my hair. He didn't care for style
He'd just snip and snip, then sweep it in a pile
I could not keep still, but he would understand
Some things are just known between a boy and a man
Right there in the middle of our kitchen's cluttered floor
In the middle of the fifties, in between a couple wars
He'd get out some old scorched sheet and wrap it round my neck
And he would be so close to me I'd smell the coffee on his breath
He would be so close to me...

We had a fallin' out. Hanged if I know why
But every time I think on it there's water in my eyes
We said some awful words, he ordered me to leave
For years my sister wrote about how hard my mother grieved
Second tour of duty, when the thrill had long been gone
I started giving haircuts to my buddies there in 'Nam
The wire came on Friday. I was cutting Jo Jo's hair
"We buried Mom on Wednesday. Dad was happy I was there."
We buried Mom on Wednesday...

He never did remarry. Traveled quite a bit
As a father still some distance, but as a Grandpa, quite a hit!

The stroke was unexpected, there is so much to relearn
He gets around with just a cane, but his speech has not returned...

Now I cut Daddy's hair, he still don't care for style
I snip and snip the memories and then sweep them in a pile
I don't say a word, He smiles when I'm done,
Some things are just known between a father and a son.
Right there in the middle of our kitchen's cluttered floor,
In my middle fifties, I feel the ache once more
For all the years our anger kept us far apart
Thank God that there's forgiveness to mend a broken heart
Thank God that there's forgiveness...

©  1993 Gotz Music/Diadem Sky Music

There is a video on YouTube of Blanchard performing this song for a Bill Gaither video.  It's marginal quality, but the song's powerful story still comes across well and it's worth watching.  See it here.

Is there someone in your life that you are separated from because of a lack of forgiveness?  You need to make it right with them today.  Don't let another day pass with the relationship broken. 

"Thank God that there's forgiveness to mend a broken heart..."

Requiem for a Beloved Friend

Tonight, for the first time in twenty years, I am not a dog owner.  Cindy, our beloved Shih Tzu, was put down this evening.  She was 15 years old.

If you are not an animal lover, you should stop reading now. I promise you will find this post sappy and emotional.  But if you have been blessed enough to share a significant portion of your life with a dog, you know exactly how our family feels tonight. If you've ever wept unashamedly as you watched a greatly loved companion sweetly and peacefully slip away, you know the pain we are feeling tonight.

It was time.  We all knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt.  We saw this coming over the last couple of weeks as she went downhill rapidly. She slipped away quietly and peacefully.  But none of these facts make it any easier for us to let her go.

I have always been a "dog person," but growing up I had never had a dog for more than a couple of years.  Some ran away, some were hit by cars, some had to be given to new homes because one of the family was allergic.  After Fonda and I married, we lost two dogs, a beagle named Buffy and a Lhasa Apso named Sadie. Both were hit by cars before they turned three.  I loved my dogs, but I never seemed to be able to keep them very long. 

All that changed in April 1988 when we gave our daughter a Shih Tzu puppy for her third birthday.  We named her Sadie, after the Lhasa we lost. We have a video of that day, with Faith walking around the house and yard holding Sadie, her little legs dangling and her tail wagging. Sadie immediately became one of the family.  Shih Tzus are not known for their great intelligence or how easily they train, but they are known for an incredibly sweet personality and for being wonderful with children. 

Four years later in 1992, Sadie had a litter of seven puppies when we bred her with a friend's male Shih Tzu.  Faith named each one of the puppies and cried when their new families came to get them.  We kept the runt of the litter, a thick little furrball that Faith named Cindy. 

For the next eleven years, Sadie and Cindy were inseparable.  Where you saw one, you saw the other.  These two dogs were a huge part of our chidren's lives. They were Faith and Chris' companions, confidants and playmates.  On more than one occasion we found Sadie and Cindy the unwilling but patient victims of a dress up party at the hands of Faith and her friends.

In 2003, we lost Sadie at the age of 15.  We probably waited too long to put her down, but we just could not bring ourselves to do it.  Cindy weathered the loss of her mother and constant companion well. She adapted to yet another new home when we moved to Acworth later that year.  Over the last four years, she went blind and deaf, but she still got around the house well and loved being near us wherever in the house we were.

In late August of this year, we let Cindy out in the backyard as we had thousands of times before.  That night something - we think it was a raccoon - attacked her and tore her up pretty good.  For a few days we didn't think she would pull out of it. She did rally some, but she was never the same again.  She didn't seem to know where she was.  She paced incessantly and was always panting.  The vet believes she might have thrown off an embolism from the animal attack, and that might have been the cause of her loss of mental function. 

Cindy was unfailingly sweet and loving to the end. She lived a very long, very full life.  If you believe the "dog years" thing, she was 105 years old.  She was pampered, there's no doubt about it.  But she gave us far, far more than she ever received.

 

The Power of the Dog
Rudyard Kipling

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie--
Perfect Passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-term loan is as bad as a long--
So why in--Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

The Best Decision I Ever Made

Twenty-eight years ago today, I stood at an altar at Zion Church in Cleveland, Georgia and promised to love, honor, cherish, and be faithful to Fonda Dorsey.  In some ways, June 10, 1978 seems like just a moment ago.  And in other ways, it seems like a lifetime ago.

So much has happened in these 28 years. Together we've raised two awesome kids who make us proud of them every day.  Our baby girl leaves Tuesday to spend the summer in Zambia working with high school students.  Our son is 16, talented, creative and loves the Lord.

Things haven't always been rosy.  We've lost two parents, two siblings and a host of good friends.  We've been through some difficult times where we've seen church people, even pastors at their worst.  Just in the last year, we've been through my getting out of full-time ministry and adjusting to a normal non-ministry life. 

Through it all, we've had each other. 

I am so blessed.  My wife is my best friend.  I'd rather hang out with her than anyone else.  We love to be together.  I know only too well how rare this kind of relationship is, and I know I am blessed.

When we first got married, our pastor, Nane Starnes used to love to say that June 10, 1978 was the best day's work I ever did.  That is more true today than it was then.

Happy anniversary, Darling.  I love you.  Always.