New Conversation Posted

I recently did an interview with Gerald Williams of the Melody Boys Quartet. Gerald has been a quartet man for something like 60 years. I found his recollections of the old days on the road with a quartet fascinating. In particular, listen to his story of the DeSoto, five guys, and one microphone. How things have changed!

You can get to my "Conversations With Dr. Dave" podcast by clicking on the icon to the right of this post, or by going to iTunes and searching for "Conversations With Dr. Dave." You can even subscribe through iTunes and automatically receive the latest postings.

BTW, I am always open for suggestions for interviews. Please note them in the comments section.

"One Who Is Gracious To A Poor Man...

."..lends to the LORD, And He will repay him for his good deed." Proverbs 19:17 (NASB)

Yesterday was a very interesting day. It had already been a busy week with three funerals to officiate, preparation for Wednesday night, and Sunday coming. Add to that a wedding this weekend, and you can have ministerial overload.

So I was quite pleased to know that Thursday was to be a day in the study, preparing sermons and getting reorganized. I planned to enjoy the quiet and solitude.

But apparently God had other plans. Call it a "Divine Interruption."

A couple of visitors came to the office. One in particular had a problem. He wanted to "talk to the pastor."

To make a long story short, he was in trouble. He and his wife were separating (another long story) and he was living "in the woods." He said he had never been in such a situation. He was crying and broke. He had come in the day earlier to see me. Instead, he visited with an associate pastor and told him the story. The man apparently wanted nothing more than prayer.

He told me he had a job opportunity in Arkansas for about a month, after which he would return to work back down here. He was broke and needed to get there. He had tried the payday loan places and they had rejected him.

I felt for him. I prayed with him. I thought about it. After consultation, I took a big risk.

I decided to help him.

Yes, every day we get similar stories and requests for aid at the church. But somehow this seemed different.

I decided to give him the $120 dollars he needed to get to Arkansas. I borrowed it from another staff member and took it to the man. I looked him in the eye and said it was a loan and that I was taking him at this word.

He looked me in the eye and said, "My word is all I have."

I put the money in his hand. He took it, hugged me and left. He never outright asked for the money, but I couldn't help but remember what James in the New Testament said about wishing people well who were needy and not helping them.

I simply obeyed the inner voice.

Foolish? Taken? Naive? Perhaps. But it will be the last time with him if it is true. "Fool me once...., remember?" I felt a deep impression to at least take a chance on giving a guy who said he'd never been without a roof over his head a chance.

He drove away. Then it happened.

I was preparing to mail a letter and opened the envelope to place the letter inside. Inside was a $100 dollar bill! I had already been repaid, save $20. I literally felt chills down my neck, like seeing a ghost.

Later at lunchtime, I told my lunch companion the story. He had that "I know the pastor got taken again" look on his face. I tried to explain all my reasoning and impressions for my decision. That seemed to satisfy him.

Back to the office and preparing for Sunday. The intercom beeps. Another visitor!

When he walked into the office, he stepped toward the desk and threw a wad of bills on it. As he stood and looked out of the window with tears in his eyes, he told me that as a child it was his job to keep water in the bucket. To keep the pump primed so to speak. I protested. He insisted, saying he wanted to do it and was able. I accepted his gift.

I shook his hand and he left as quickly as he came.

I took the money and counted it.

I gave away $120. I got back over $300, counting the money I found and the money he left me.

God had repaid me. With interest. I'm glad I obeyed the inner voice.

"One who is gracious to the poor..."

You can't outgive God!

What a day!

A Missed Chance

Chennault Airport in Lake Charles this week hosted a couple of vintage aircraft for public viewing. If you were willing to fork over $400, you could even take a 30 minute ride. The aircraft were only in town a few days with limited viewing hours.

I missed my chance.

I discovered late in the week that the planes were in town. I later found out they would be here for a final showing Friday morning from 9am to noon. "I'll go," I thought. It was supposed to be my day off anyway.

Nope.

About 9:30, not entirely unexpected, the carpet guys showed up. Our carpet in the house was buckling. They fixed it. They left.

I decided to do a bit of mowing. Plenty of time. My mistake.

Time got away from me. I realized noon was approaching and just said, "Oh, well, I don't want to go anyway." Sour grapes, I think. "He who hesitates..."

The reason I was so interested in this plane is due to a old book with brittle brown pages I acquired after my dad died. It was one of his. I remember reading it when we went to my grandmother's house in the summer. With little to do on long summer days there, I found that book and others like it that my grandmother kept in the bookshelf in the living room that no one is allowed to enter. (Except for Christmas.)

It is called, "Barry Blake And the Flying Fortress." It is the story of an airman in WWII who became a bomber pilot. The story begins with his entry into flight school and takes him into the south Pacific to really give it to the Japanese. The book was published in 1943, in the middle of the war. It is a nice boyhood story somewhat propagandized. Barry Blake, though he has a few scrapes, cleverly devastates the enemy. (There was a concerted effort in those days for the media to paint a picture that the war was really going better than it was- due in no small measure to American efforts.)

Nonetheless, I remember my fascination with flying, fighting, and the B-17 Flying Fortress. I think one reason I enjoyed the book so much is because it belonged to my father. He later served in the Air Force. I wonder if that book and another he had called, "Spitfire Pilot" had any influence on that choice.

Anyway, yesterday I had a chance to fulfill a boyhood dream and see a B-17 bomber up close and personal.

I missed it. I miss my father, too.

Church Slogans

I'm Cuckoo For Second Baptist Church.

Enter a word for your own slogan:

Generated by the Advertising Slogan Generator. Get more Second Baptist Church slogans.

They used to be a bit more popular than they are today. Church slogans. You'd see them on letterheads, the sides of church vans, in the bulletins, and on other printed material. I have not been one to get on the church slogan bandwagon. Frankly, most of them seem to me to be a bit on the cheesy side.

For example:

"Where Everybody is Somebody and Jesus is Lord."
Why is this true at this church? Is this not true EVERYWHERE? Whether you attend that church or not, you are still somebody and Jesus will always be Lord.

"Where Jesus is Lord."
See the above

"Where the Bible is believed, preached, and taught."
Ok. Is there a valid New Testament church that would actually say that it doesn't believe the Bible, preach it, or teach it?

"A Going Church for a Coming Lord."
Actually, I like this one a bit better. It has a nice balanced ring to it. However, no one has bothered to define exactly where this church is going.

"The End of Your Search for a Friendly Church."
I learned a long time ago that most people are not looking for a friendly church; they are looking for friends. In fact, I read some research material this week that suggested that churches are not perceived to be as friendly by outsiders as those inside them perceive them. But who among church members will not say that theirs is a friendly church? Besides that, I also learned a long time ago that if you have to say it yourself, it probably 'taint so.

My Favorite:
"Home Of the Crater Of Diamonds."
Most churches use some sort of spiritual, biblical, or Christological theme. This slogan was printed on the side of the church van in Murfreesboro, AR when my friend, Rick was pastor. He enjoyed pointing out that his church followed a more chamber of commerce theme over something more theological. It certainly was unique, and Rick endlessly enjoyed pointing out that he was from the "Home Of The Only Diamond Mine In North America."

In fact, a favorite memory has Rick and I in that van returning from one of our Doctor of Ministry classes in Little Rock, AR. For some reason which I now cannot recall, he was in a hurry to get home.

Hurry means speed, and speed he did.

Right down the Interstate.

Right past a prominent deacon in the church who was also returning home from Little Rock in his car.

I have often wondered what this deacon must have thought as he watched his pastor and a fellow pastor, in church van, speeding down the highway.

Fortunately, I'm told, the subject never came up.

It reminds me of a slogan I used to see on bumper stickers many years ago: "Speed on, brother....."

I'll leave the rest to your memories.

New Bumper Sticker

Back On The Air

I've relented.

Due to popular demand, (right! Actually they are looking for warm voices) I will be spinning disks and adding "clever" patter to the airwaves around Lake Charles, LA.

KELB is a low power station broadcasting Southern Gospel music as well as other Christian programming at 100.5 on your FM dial. I wrote about it here.

So if you're not doing anything really important and you think about it, tune in Friday, February 27 between the hours of 1:00 pm and 3:00 pm. If you can't get the station on your locally tune in here on the web and click on "Listen Live."

See you there or on the air.

Flat Tuesday

Mardi Gras came and went in southwest Louisiana. I noticed yesterday how the streets seemed to be deserted. School was out. Businesses were closed. I went to the gym yesterday afternoon and had the equipment almost all to myself. Years ago, I understand, our church office even closed.

Where was everyone?

From what my wife told me, they were all over the river in Lake Charles watching the parades and floats. Mardi Gras. It's a big deal here. Krewes have their grand balls, elect royalty and participate in parades. People have beads around their necks and are dressed in purple and green. Various doorways in the hospital and yard decorations also sprout these colors and more.

For many people, Mardi Gras represents the last great chance to indulge before the self denials of the Lenten season. For others, it is simply an excuse to party. The local paper carried stories about crowds of people gathered, enjoying barbecued boudain and other sorts of delicacies. Where do people find time and money to do all this? Down here, Mardi Gras is just a big tailgate party.

For me, it was flat Tuesday. Not much going on. Even the secretaries at our office said it was quiet. Everyone was out celebrating.

Except me. And a few others.

I still struggle to understand what all the celebrations are about. On most holidays, something historical happened. George Washington was born. We honor our veterans, and so on.

But with Mardi Gras, it just feels so different.

Flat Tuesday for me.

Oh, one good part of the season is the King Cake. It is absolutely delightful. I got a good slice of one yesterday, thanks to the fine folks at Vee's Donuts and Bakery. I'd say that is one good thing about Mardi Gras.

And if I don't lay off the King Cake, it will fat Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, etc., for me.