The Reason for the Season-Part 1

Note: This is Part 1 of a 2 part series. This was a sermon that I was honored to give at Litton Springs United Methodist Church in Litton Springs, Texas during the Lenten Season.

The First United Methodist Church in Brewton, Alabama

When I was a little girl, I attended bible school at the First United Methodist Church in Brewton, Alabama. This is where I learned my first scripture: 


For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth on him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.
John 3:16. 


As I recited this new scripture, the adults smiled these big, toothy smiles as they encouraged me and told me how proud of me that they were that I had memorized this scripture. But the truth was, that I understood very little about what I had learned. I categorized things in my mind as either good or bad. I did not know what a “begotten son” was, but I knew that it must be good because that is what God gave us. I didn’t know what “perish” meant, but that did not sound very good. “Everlasting life” was also a huge mystery to me, but it sounded pretty good. 


Now that I am much older, I understand much more about God and Jesus and these scriptures. But I do have a confession to make: sometimes, when I read scripture, I don’t understand some of them anymore than I understood John 3:16 as a small child. So, when I do receive revelation about one of the scriptures, I get really excited and want to share my new knowledge with others. This is what I want to do today.


I will be focusing on Old Testament scripture today from Genesis, Chapter 15:

6 And he believed in the Lord; and he counted it to him for righteousness. 7 And he said unto him, I am the Lord that brought thee out of Ur of the Chaldees, to give thee this land to inherit it. 8 And he said, Lord God, whereby shall I know that I shall inherit it? 9 And he said unto him, Take me an heifer of three years old, and a she goat of three years old, and a ram of three years old, and a turtledove, and a young pigeon. 10 And he took unto him all these, and divided them in the midst, and laid each piece one against another: but the birds divided he not. 11 And when the fowls came down upon the carcases, Abram drove them away. 12 And when the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram, and lo, an horror of great darkness fell upon him. 13 And he said unto Abram, Know of a surety that thy seed shall be a stranger in a land that is not theirs, and shall serve them; and they shall afflict them four hundred years; 14 And also that nation, whom they shall serve, will I judge: and afterward shall they come out with great substance. 15 And thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace; thou shalt be buried in a good old age.16 But in the fourth generation they shall come hither again: for the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet full. 17. And it came to pass, that when the sun went down, and it was dark, behold a smoking furnace, and a burning lamp that passed between those pieces. 18. In the same day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, Unto they seed have I given this land, from the river of Egypt unto the great river, the river Euphrates.
Genesis 15: 6-18


Now I know that whenever some people hear the words “Old Testament,” they automatically shut down and quit listening or reading. It is as if they have visited a hypnotist who has told them that whey they hear the code words “ Old Testament”, they are to fall asleep immediately.


One lady in my bible study group even shared with the group that in her opinion, the Old Testament is no longer relevant in this day and age. After all, we believe in Jesus and Jesus is a New Testament kind of guy! Right?


Well, for me, while I appreciate her sharing her feelings, I believe that our New Testament guy came for a very specific reason. And to understand part of this reason requires knowledge of this story in the Old Testament. 


The story of the life and faith walk of Abraham is a beautiful one that begins in Chapter 12 of Genesis and ends with the death of Abraham in Chapter 25, verse 8. It is a beautiful love story between God and Abraham that I encourage you to read regularly. 


But to fully understand today’s scripture involves knowledge of covenants in the Old Testament times.  A covenant was usually sealed in blood and became known as the blood covenant.


The covenant at that time was similar to our contracts of the present day, with some major differences. One of these difference is that back then, a covenant was made between two unequal parties; when I say unequal, I mean that one may be rich, and one poor; or one could be royalty and one of peasant-type status. Whatever the situation, one of the parties to the covenant would be considered “greater than” the other and the other party was the “lesser than party.” In our present day system of contracts in the United States, a contract can occur between any two or among more than two parties who have the legal authority and capacity to enter into contract.


Back then, it was always the “greater party” of the two who initiated the covenant. In our present day, anyone can make an offer to another party. And the terms of the covenant were set by the “greater party” as well. There were no negotiations back then. The “greater party” made the initial offer and set the terms. The only power that the “lesser party” had was to either accept or reject the offer and terms. So, in a covenant between God and Abraham, the offer would have to be made by God, as the “greater party”, who would also set the terms of the covenant between him and Abraham.


In our present day, we say that a contract is made, or signed or agreed upon. But back then, a covenant was said to be “cut“ between the two parties.


We say that a contract in our present day creates a “business relationship between two or more parties.” But when a covenant was “cut” in Abraham’s day, it was said to create a “personal relationship” between the parties. There were no comments back then like, “Sorry. It’s only business.” 


In our present day, we establish legal remedies for breach of contract, in the event that one of the parties does not fulfill his or her contractual obligations. Back then, there was only one remedy for breach of the blood covenant: death.  The blood covenant was a serious thing. 


So let’s look at an example of a covenant back in the day of Abram. ( By the way, some of the people in some of the tribes in Israel still abide by this system, but not many.)  For our example, we will look at a marriage ceremony between a young man who is from a prominent family, and a  young lady, who is from a more common family. We are doing this because of the requirement that a covenant be cut between two unequal parties.


In our example, imagine that an animal of size has been sacrificed. After the sacrifice or killing, the animal is cut into two halves. One half is positioned across from the other half in such a way that the blood from the animal is drained into the middle. This blood forms a pool of blood. The groom and his family would stand by one of the halves of the animal. The bride and her family would stand by the opposite half of the animal. 


The groom, being the party that is “greater than” would go first. For a marriage ceremony, the head of the groom’s household, which would usually be his father, would remove his sandals, and step into the accumulated pool of blood. He would then make promises to the bride and her family, on behalf of his son. I don’t know what the promises were back then. Maybe something like this: “My son promises to wed your daughter, to be a good husband and provider, to love and cherish her, and to not take more than 1,000 concubines, and he definitely will not hog the remote control.” (Ok, so some of that was silly, I admit it.)


The reason that the groom’s father stands in the pooled blood when he makes this promise is that the blood symbolizes the penalty for breach of contract: death. If his son does not keep the promises of the father, the life of the father can be taken; not the life of the groom, for he is not the person making the promise. That is a stiff penalty.


In this example, the father of the groom steps out of the pool of blood and now it is the turn of the bride’s family to step forward.  The head of her household would step up. This would usually be her father. He would remove his sandals, step into the pooled blood, and make promises to the groom and his family on behalf of his daughter.


Again, I don’t know specifically what the promises were.  Maybe something like this: “My daughter promises to wed your son, to be his lawfully wedded wife, to love him, and be loyal and true to him and only him, to bear his children, cook the meals, keep the house, and not hog the bathroom.” (Again, a little silliness, I know.) As the bride’s father makes these promises he is standing in the blood to symbolize the penalty for breaking the covenant: death. The family of the groom can take his life if his daughter does not keep her promises.


Now, I don’t know about you, but I think that if I were married and my husband had to make promises on behalf of my son or daughter, and the penalty for him or her not keeping her promises would cause me to be a widow, I would be the most meddlesome mother-in-law that you have ever seen, just to save my own husband. 


(To be continued tomorrow.... To read Part 2, go here.)
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Thanksgiving Challenge and Joy Dare:


Today, I am thankful for:


114. Old people.
115. Rest
116. My vegetable garden
117. The United States of America
118. Sabbath.


copyright 2012 by Kathy Robbins

Join Me In My Walk From Texas To Alabama

I wrote last week about my challenges for 2012. My first challenge is to read the bible all the way through in a year. My second challenge is to walk from my home in Texas to my home in Alabama. Well, not really. I am going to walk the same distance for the year: 719 miles. I have already logged 2.4 miles toward this effort. If I can go farther, that is great. But my goal is 719 miles.


To add to the fun, I am logging my progress on the +3Network to raise a little money for charity. The +3Network is a cool website that puts money for charity together with exercising. Companies have committed to donating money to a particular cause. A participant teams up with the cause and then logs their exercise for the cause for the day. For every unit of exercise logged the company donates money to the particular cause.

Members can win prizes after completing challenges for which they sign up. Organized bike rides and hikes are some of the group activities organized by non-profits and individual groups. Members can participate in these as they desire.  However, most of these occur in California, where the web designers live. I would love to see some started for the Austin, Texas area on that website. Garmin GPS units can be used to track and upload activity automatically.


I chose breast cancer as my charity to honor my Mamaw, Marguerite Ratcliff and my grandfather, Aubrey Robbins. Mamaw survived breast cancer, only to have it recur as bone cancer later. My Papa Robbins died from lung cancer when I was only seven years old.  Anhu footwear provides the funding for this cause. Other causes include Second Harvest Food Bank, Rebuild Hope, Project Open Hand, Cal Poly SLO Cross Country, Nevada Cancer Institute and The American Heart Association. But there are more.

On the website, members can link to other members and keep stats on the money raised within a group. Almost any kind of exercise qualifies. Running, biking, swimming, skateboarding, spinning, weight room sessions, yoga, walking the dog. Almost anything that you can imagine is included for credit. Please feel free to join me on this site and send me a friend linkup. 

Neighborhood walking is a little boring for me, so I get a little help here from my MP3 player, to listen to music and scripture if I want while I walk. After I finish, I upload my progress onto the +3 Network, and then click on the Facebook link to post my progress and the monetary contribution. Other people I know take a camera with them on their walks and runs and take a picture of the sunrise or something else that captures their interest. I frequently enjoy these posts on Facebook. 

With help from my MP3 player and inspiration from the +3Network to track my progress, I look forward to finishing my 719 mile trek this year. Won’t you join me with an exercise goal of your own? Please visit +3Network and send me a friend request so that we can participate together.

Linking up with Laura and Jen

Stress Relief Idea #22

Make friends with nonworriers. Nothing can get you into the habit or worrying faster than associating with chronic worryworts.
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I want to give a shout-out to Beverly Nelms, who was my very first Google follower and to Grace Arreza who is a Google follower from Indonesia. Thank you both for following robbinswrites!

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Good luck to the University of Alabama tonight in their quest for the National Championship in their football game against LSU! Congratulations to the T.R. Miller High School Marching Band from  my hometown of Brewton, Alabama for being selected to perform the halftime show at the game. 




copyright 2012 by Kathy Robbins

The Iron Bowl-An Alabama Tradition

Thanksgiving is two days away. The Iron Bowl is four days away. While all of the other bloggers write about Thanksgiving, I choose to write about the Iron Bowl-the annual game between Auburn and Alabama; one of the biggest rivalries in college football. 


As someone who was raised in South Alabama, I can attest to the fact that by the age of five years, each resident of the state is required to pledge allegiance to either one or the other: Auburn or Alabama. For most residents of the state, there are no other acceptable choices. 


If you were raised in the Robbins family, as I was, you were required to pull for Auburn; that is, if you wanted to continue to eat, have clothing and shelter. For my childhood best friend, the requirement was to be an Alabama fan, if you wanted to continue to eat, have clothing and shelter. I could look over this, well, except for one day of the year.


Everyone in the state knows the choice of their friends, neighbors and co-workers. For this one week of the year, alliances are drawn upon the lines of loyalty to our team. One might even hang out with someone who isn’t particularly liked during the week building up to this very important game, which decides who has the bragging rights for a full year.


I have a friend from Texas who reports that she moved to Montgomery, Alabama as a teenager. Her father was in the military and was stationed there; he hoped to retire there. On the day that they moved in, there was a knock at the door. They answered, in hopes of receiving a huge welcome to their new neighborhood. Instead, a man stood there and asked them, “Who are you for?”

“What?! Who am I for?” she asked.

“Yes! Football! Which team are you for in college football--Auburn or Alabama?!,” he demanded. 

She got a confused look on her face. She said, “Texas, why?”

Now he was the one with the confused look. “Texas?! You are for Texas?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I am from Texas and we pull for Texas in football.”

“Texas,” he said, still looking confused. “Ok, I’ll uh, see ya’ later.”

And with that last comment, he left. No more discussion. No “Welcome to the neighborhood” ….nothing. She said her dad decided not to retire there. She said that they never really felt like they blended in.

In Alabama, football schedules are consulted in the event of an important decision: weddings, parties, parades. Everyone knows that one doesn’t plan a wedding at the same time as the Iron Bowl. If, for example, someone from out of state didn’t understand and did plan one at that time, he or she would need to line up an out-of-state pastor, because none would be available in-state---not during this game. Also, all of your guests would need to be shipped in from out of state as well.

Funerals were completely out of the question at that time as well. No one would be there. There would be no pastor and no one to dig the grave. If you die around that time, rest assured that the funeral will not occur at the time of the game.

There were a few people who do shop, out of necessity. And, of course, there are the poor employees who are required to work. But, they usually are allowed to listen to the game as they work. A friend of mine from Florida had moved to Alabama for a couple of years. She was reportedly amazed when she went to a mall at the same time that the game was being played. She said that she was shopping and heard the score of the game announced over the loud speaker. She said everyone in the store erupted into one loud cheer. She said it made her jump. She said, “That never happened in Florida. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Now that I have explained the basics, I will tell more about the stunning, exciting history of the game on Thursday. You won’t want to miss it. What could be more interesting?

copyright 2011 by Kathy Robbins

Childhood Friends: Laughing Our Way Through Life

Cindy

I read a blog post written by Deidra over at The High Calling. She wrote about laughter. She suggested that the rest of us write our own stories about the same topic. Here is mine. Happy Reading!

Cindy and I are the products of an Alabama small town. We met as babies in a playpen. Our mothers plopped us down together to play as they visited. We really didn’t have much choice in the matter. We were just there together, kind of like siblings.

Kathy being silly at work

Nourishment provided by our families and each other, mixed with sunshine, clean air and a little rain helped our friendship to blossom over the years. I don’t know what we did as babies; don’t remember. But as we grew, we traipsed through mud puddles, explored our neighborhood, traded crushes on boys and just generally had a marvelous time.

And we laughed. And laughed, and laughed. Through good times and bad, and sometimes through tears, we laugh. Whatever the occasion, we can find something funny. Whatever the pain, we go through it together and make a point to laugh anyway. The laughter is our song to the universe singing a melody of  perseverance to the stars.

We used to meet up for a glass of tea (this usually turned into a several hour affair) and we would laugh, at the simplest, silliest things. Sometimes, I would fuss at her for her timing. Well, it was her own fault! She would say something really funny right before I took a sip of tea and it took all of the control that I could muster not to spew the tea all over her face, because it was so hard to swallow and laugh at the same time. I chuckle now just thinking about it.

Kathy and Cindy

Our time spent together these days is over the phone. During those occasions, one of my boys will enter the room and say, “Well, I know that you are talking to Aunt Cindy”. (I make them call her Aunt because she is too close for them to call her Miss.) I ask them how they know. The answer is usually, “Well Mom, whenever I can hear you laughing loudly all over the house, it means that you are talking to her!”

That is one of the best signs of friendship that I can imagine.

Amen.


copyright 2011 by Kathy Robbins

The Worst Day of His Life

The day started as normally as any other day. Kevin woke up at 4:00 Friday morning to prepare for a full day’s work. He dragged around the small bungalow that he and his seventeen year old wife shared. He was only eighteen himself and had been married only six months.

Being married at such a young age was not unusual in either of their families. That was just the way that it was done in their culture. Anyway, they had both lived fast lives. That, too, was the norm in their culture. This culture was one in which, when speaking of one’s husband or wife, one refers to the other as, “My old man “ or “My old lady”, respectively without any of the parties feeling an insult. A bad explanation is one that is followed by the phrase, “That dog won’t hunt”, because everybody in those parts hunt and knows that any dog that won’t hunt is utterly worthless. It is a culture with big families, young marriages and people who live fast lives.

Kevin was always dragging on Friday mornings: the effect of hard, physical labor for a full week in the logging woods of Alabama. Logging didn’t require a lot of education or skill, but there weren’t many jobs waiting for an eighteen year old.

After he dressed in his camouflage pants and t-shirt, he drifted into the kitchen, started up the coffee pot,scrambled four eggs and made toast. While the toast was finishing up, he made his sack lunch. After eating breakfast, he rolled his last joint. He would be able to buy a new bag this afternoon after getting paid. He went into the bedroom, kissed his young bride, and then walked outside onto the front porch where he was immediately inundated with the smell of the cool, night air. He loved the smell of the pine trees in the air during the early morning hours. Never having lived anywhere else, Kevin didn’t realize that it was the pine that provided the familiar scent. It had never occurred to him that this smell wasn’t common everywhere. Pine and pot were his favorite scents.

As he got into his car, he looked up and admired the full moon and stars. He had grown accustomed to driving to work before dawn, and never encountered much traffic. He put in the CD from Lynyrd Skynyrd and listened to Sweet Home Alabama and Freebird. When he arrived at work, several of his friends were already waiting for him. Soon, they would load up into the work trucks that would carry them on top of the red dirt roads out to the worksite in the deep piney woods. During the ride, they would observe the beautiful sunrise through the haze of cigarette smoke. Then, the peaceful atmosphere of the morning would be broken as the heavy logging equipment was started.

After a full day's work, he went to cash his paycheck. He would stop by Skip’s house to get a full bag of pot and then meet his buddies for an after work buzz. Where they went to go drinking, nobody knows for sure; except them, of course.

The sun was high up in the sky when Kevin went home to his beautiful wife. Her name was Dawn. She was thin and blonde, with an easy smile and a good disposition. Coming home drunk didn't bode well for his marriage. He and his young bride soon broke into an argument. That was not unusual. Young love tended to lean in that direction. She was most likely mad that he came home drunk. And booze was probably not all that he had been doing. Not only had he come home drunk, but she had been stuck at the house alone all day because between the two of them, they owned only one car. This also is not unusual for a young married couple just starting out.

She couldn’t ride into town with a neighbor because they lived in a little bungalow in the county. The nearest house was at least a mile away. But the bad is accompanied by the good. They had plenty of privacy out in the country, the deer were plentiful and there were no neighbors to hear their frequent arguments.

The argument continued to the edge of violence when Kevin threatened to shoot Dawn with a rifle. She wasted no time leaving the house for her own safety. On her way out the door, with tears running down her face, Dawn informed Kevin that she was ready for a divorce. As she ran to their only car, she noticed that the sun was slowly being covered by puffy, white clouds, forming shadows on the green grass.

Then, she took their only car, and went home to her parent's house. She poured out her story to her parents, explaining to them that she was through with him for good.

Now, Kevin was home alone, drunk, upset, and soon to be divorced. He had nowhere to go and no way to get there. For the first time in his eighteen years, he had found happiness when he had gotten married and now it was over. She had been the only stability that he had had in a long time. He liked being married, having a home of his own. This was the worst thing that had ever happened to him in his eighteen year life. His buddies were nowhere to be found as he plummeted into darkness. The appealing quality of the bungalow now had a sinister effect. No longer was it a haven for new lovers, but now had become a symbol of isolation and loneliness that he could not endure. He had felt this loneliness most of his life. It had begun as a gnawing fear when he was small, overhearing the bitter arguing of his parents, and had become a permanent fixture in his life as soon as they had gotten divorced when he was eight years old.

Angry, confused, crying, disappointed and heartbroken, Kevin drifted into the worst, darkness of his life. Was this all that life had to offer? This kind of heartache, one time after another, and another and another? He felt like such a failure. He picked his rifle back up. He would show her. He would show them all.

He called her parents house, hoping that she would answer the phone. She had to be there. Where else would she go? She was there all right. But her mom wouldn't notify her that she had a phone call. She told him that he needed to leave Dawn alone. Kevin responded by placing his rifle into his mouth and telling Dawn's mother that he planned to kill himself. He said that he had just called to tell his wife goodbye.

Dawn's mother Nancy could hear that something was in his mouth. She knew it because it was affecting his speech. She also knew that he was drunk and probably high too.She knew that there was no telling what kind of drugs were in his system, because that was the norm for their culture too. When Kevin told Nancy that he had a rifle in his mouth, Nancy knew that he was telling the truth. This was a dangerous situation that would require calm, firm guidance. She knew that this was most likely the same gun that had been pulled on her daughter. She was concerned, but first and foremost for Dawn.

Nancy told Kevin that he needed to call his own mother and tell her what he was going to do. His mother was the one that he needed right now. She told him to hang up and call her.

Man, that wasn't the response that he expected. He expected to get to talk to Dawn--to tell her that he was going to kill himself. He wanted her to tell him not to because she loved him. This is what he wanted and expected to hear, just like in the movies. He definitely didn't expect to be told to hang up and call his mother.

Like a robot, he followed Nancy's advice. He was broken and could not think clearly for himself. Hopefully, when he called his mom, they would talk it out, and things would end peacefully. He called and got the answering machine. The answering machine?!!! With the gun in his mouth, Kevin told the answering machine that he was about to kill himself and just called to say goodbye to his mama. Then he hung up.


His wife had left him in the only vehicle that they owned, his mother-in-law didn't want to listen when he called to tell her that he wanted to kill himself, his wife wouldn't come to the phone and his mother was unavailable for him to tell that he was planning to die. This day had turned into a living nightmare. He felt like the most unloved person on the face of the earth.

Life is fleeting, characterized by many ironies. One is that people can spend years working toward a single goal before it is achieved. But five minutes or even one second can undo years of work. Not only can one second change the entire future of a person, but this also affects the lives of others: groups, families, towns, nations and even the entire world. This can work for the negative or the positive.


Kevin called his dad. By this time, he was crying again. With the gun in his mouth, he told his father that he was about to kill himself, and he just wanted to call him to tell him goodbye. His father screamed, "Kevin, No!!!!

Boom! With a singular pull of the trigger, the worst day of Kevin's life was over forever…..

After life

Hosea 13:14 " ...Where, O death, are your plagues?
Where, O grave, is your destruction? "



I was blessed with the best grandmother ever. We called her Mamaw.

All of my young life, my family regularly traveled the three hours northeast from Brewton, Alabama to Opelika, Alabama, where my Mamaw and Bampa lived. As soon as we arrived, we were greeted by my grandparents, and immediately ushered into the lighted kitchen, where we were fed, regardless of whether or not we had eaten dinner. After eating what was usually a warm bowl of macaroni soup, we never had trouble sleeping.

Our Mamaw and Bampaw, they were quite a pair.

They were married 68 years when my grandfather passed away. Mamaw passed away a few years after that.

When Mamaw went into the hospital for the last time, she knew that things were bad and she told my mom to call all of us and let us know to come. So, I packed up my one year old son Levi and went to Opelika straight to the East Alabama Medical Center to visit her in the hospital. I had someone to come and get Levi so I could stay as long as I felt comfortable. She was having trouble breathing. Her lungs were damaged from radiation treatment that she had received as part of treatment for breast cancer years before. The cancer was eradicated for a few years and then returned into her bones.

My uncle Jack was at the hospital, sitting with her and trying to help her to feel secure. But she kept asking for my mom, who had been at the hospital all day and had gone home to get some rest. I stayed a while, and then went home to her house.

Uncle Jack came to the house the next morning and announced that Mamaw was resting comfortably. I think that she was in a coma. I went to the hospital and had to leave because my son needed a nap and could not sleep at the hospital. I left with him and got a motel room where he could sleep without any distractions. While at the motel, my cousin, Toppy arrived to inform me that Mamaw passed away. My mom had sent her there to tell me so that she wouldn't have to do it over the phone. I cried and thanked her and got Levi ready to go to the hospital to see her before she was removed for the funeral home.

When I arrived, there was a full room of family waiting to go into her room. There were also close neighbors and the aides who worked at the house helping her to do housework and dress. I went around the room hugging people one by one, telling each one that my grandmother loved him or her dearly. Every single one of them responded by saying, "I know, she told me all the time."

What a gift she had to let people know how much they meant to her while she was still alive.

We went into her hospital room to say our last goodbyes and to see her peaceful before they left with her to go to the funeral home.

I returned to the motel and got a nap with Levi. After we awoke, I was praying on my knees. I was praying for her soul and that God would take her in his loving arms in heaven. It was then that I saw an image of Mamaw in my mind. She was dressed up and her hair was fixed nice and she had on makeup and looked very pretty. She told me that she was so happy; for me not to worry about her because she was OK. She said that if she had known about how wonderful that place was before she came, she would have gone a long time ago.

At that point my grief was immediately replaced with joy. I thanked God for her life and for taking care of her.

I related this story to my family and told them what a comfort it was to receive such a message. Some of them were comforted by this.

And now, I go through life with the assurance that what we are doing on this earthly plain is very important. But I believe that the real living will be with Jesus in heaven.

I still miss Mamaw. But I still have comfort from this image of her after death. And I am assured that if I press on toward the prize, I will see her again.

"Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?"-- I Corinthians 15:55

Patton

I was chillin'. It was the last day of school and school was over. Hallelujah! No more days of having to wake up uncooperative boys to get them ready for school. Nope. Not for 3 more months.

Since I knew that we were all safe to sleep in, and two of my boys were spending the night with friends, I lounged on the couch (Yes, I am from time to time a couch potato), and turned the TV on to a movie channel. That particular night, they were having a special weekend of nothing but war movies. And the particular movie that was on was "Patton." Seeing this movie again brought back a flood of memories.

This is a movie that I have watched numerous times. This is an old favorite for me. And I can never watch it without remembering the first time that I saw it at the old Ritz Theatre in my hometown.

I went with my sister. I was in 3rd or 4th grade. I don't remember the rating, but I do remember that I heard more cursing in one place than I had ever heard in my life. Back then, cursing was a really big deal. Now, not so much. And not only was I amazed by all of the foul language, but there was a man in the movie theatre who laughed every time that Patton cursed in the movie. He didn't just chuckle, he laughed out loud, very loudly. And I can remember that my sister and I wound up watching this man almost as much as we did the movie, because, well, to tell the truth, he was making a scene in the theater. But we couldn't say anything, because he was an adult, and we were just kids.

Whenever I see the movie "Patton" to this day, I think of this man. Who was he? Is he still alive? Does he still watch this movie? Does he still laugh when he hears the vulgarity? What in the world was so funny in the first place?

I especially like the scene in the movie where Patton is talking about feeling like he had participated in the great battles in history in a former life. This scene is mystical, and arouses my curiousity about life after death.

After watching this movie at the theater, I remember checking out a biography of General Patton in our school's library. The movie definitely made me more interested in this important figure in the military history of our nation.

And last of all, this movie reminds me of a story told by my grandmother. My grandmother, Mamaw, we called her, lived in Opelika, Alabama. This is about 30 minutes to an hour from the Georgia line. And along the Alabama-Georgia border is the Chattahoochee River. The same one that was written about in a country-western song.

According to my grandmother's story, General Patton was stationed at Fort Benning, Georgia during World War II. This was about 1 to 2 hours away from Mamaw's house in Opelika. Fort Benning was near Columbus, Georgia, which is said to be a sister-city to Phenix City, Alabama. The two cities are separated by the famous Chattahoochee River and the Alabama-Georgia state line.

At that time in history, Phenix City, Alabama was referred to as "sin city." The legend has it that Phenix City was as dangerous as any city in the nation. There was a big prostitution and gambling ring in that area at that time. The corruption and resulting crime was so bad at one point, that Marshall Law was implemented for a few weeks to get the city under control.

One night, quite a few of General Patton's soldiers went in to "sin city" to have a good time and apparently succeded. But too much so, for they were arrested and put in to jail. The problem for General Patton was that his soldiers were to deploy in the next couple of days, and he felt that he needed them. So he contacted the authorities in Phenix City to request that his soldiers be released from jail so that they could deploy. The officials would not comply.

So, the story goes that General Patton got angry and insisted that his soldiers be released. Again, the local officials refused. General Patton informed them that if they did not release his soldiers, he would have the army to surround that jail and blow it up to get release for his men. They still refused. (As I type this, it is starting to remind me of the story of Moses and the Pharoah).

General Patton, led the Army's 2nd armoured division's tanks on the highway across the bridge over the Chattahoochee River into Phenix City, and lined the tanks up in front of the jail where his men were held. Again, he told the officials that they had one more chance to free his men before he attacked the jail with his tanks.

This time, they acquiesced. The soldiers were released from jail and General Patton moved his tanks back over the bridge and on to Fort Benning. The rest of the story, well that is history.

But every time I rode with Mamaw over that bridge, she would tell that story that all of the locals knew, but many people in other parts of the country did not. I think of that story every time I watch the movie "Patton".

No obituary

When I was growing up, I had a friend, who I will call Jim, for the sake of privacy.

Jim was rather cute--not drop-dead gorgeous, mind you, but cute. He was a little short, and had a nice tan, and a quick smile. He had brown hair mixed with gray. That was very unusual. It was one of the first things you noticed about him when you met him. He also had patches of light pigmentation on his eyelids and various other places. The patch on his eyelids looked somewhat like eye makeup.

We spent a lot of time together in the neighborhood with all of our other friends. We all rode bicycles together, played spotlight, baseball, football, kickball, listened to the radio, attended school, played and ran in the woods and the field together, talked on the phone and anything else we could dream up. Once or twice, I think that we even played spin-the-bottle.

We also shared the same birthday. He was born exactly 1 year before me.

Jim had a mother who had been divorced a couple of times. That was a little unusual back in those days, but not completely rare. She was married to a new man. She had daughters by that man. They were Jim's half sisters. And the new man adopted Jim.

Jim's biological father had deserted him and would have nothing to do with him. None of us in the neighborhood had ever seen him.He didn't talk about it much and we didn't ask. We didn't know what to ask. We didn't know much about a world in which someones father would desert them.

Although Jim was adopted by this man, they weren't close. He didn't spend time with Jim. He was just there. But being there is more than Jim's biological father had done.
And Jim's mom? She pretty much ignored him too. She took her daughters shopping for new clothes and other stuff. But not Jim. One sister was a cheerleader and got absolutely anything that she wanted. It was as if Jim didn't exist to his mom.

Time marched on, we grew up, moved and went our separate ways. But, from time to time, we would run into Jim in various places--the grocery store or the hospital. We heard that he ran off and eloped with a girl, just before her parents had the marriage annulled.

Then we heard that he got married a few years later. I saw him in the grocery store. He said that his wife was in labor having his baby. But he wasn't going to go to the hospital. He was going to go get drunk. That was what his father did when he was born. So he thought that it was the appropriate thing for him to do, too.


I stayed close to a few of the people from the old, dear neighborhood. I got updates from acquaintances about Jim and some of our other mutual friends.

About 2 months ago, a friend from home and I were talking on the phone. She told me that Jim had called her out of the blue. It seems that he was going through a divorce--which number, we didn't know. But it wasn't the first. He had also recently lost his job that he had for many years working in a factory. He was bragging to my friend about how many possessions he had and how much money he had been making. Well, that is, before he lost his job. And, of course, his soon to be ex-wife was trying to take everything from him. It seems that he kept talking about himself and forgot to ask about my friend very much, so she finally ended the conversation after he told her that if she got lucky, he would come and take her out on a date. I think that she told him that she really didn't want to be that lucky.

About a month or two later, I was talking to her on the phone again. She told me that another friend of ours, I'll call him Joe, had told her that Jim died. At one time in life, Joe and Jim were best friends. She asked what happened and Joe said that he didn't really know. He said that Jim was drinking about a quart of hard liquor every morning, and up to a gallon before 24 hours had passed. He guessed that had killed him.

I had a lot of questions. What day had he died? What was the official cause of death? Had he been sick? Had he been hospitalized? Where was he buried? Where was the funeral? Which funeral home had his family used? My friend did not know the answers to any of these questions.

But my curiosity was piqued. We had all grown apart over the years, but I still had an affection for someone with whom we had been so close at one time. So, I began a search for the answers to these questions.

I could find no obituary in any newspaper, no funeral listing at any funeral home, no evidence that he had died at all. I went back to my friend and asked again. We were confused. I did another search on the Internet and finally found a listing that listed Jim as deceased as of 2011 at the age of 50.

That's it. Nothing else. No mention of him on a listing of people in his community who had died. No obituary. No listing at any mortuary in the town where he lived or in any town or city nearby. It was as if he died, and was either left in the spot where he died, and was still there, or, even worse, he died and nobody cared. Nobody. Not even enough to bury him with a proper funeral. Not even a mention in the local newspaper.

I furthered my search and asked my friends on facebook if they knew about his death. I got only one response from a mutual friend asking what happened. I responded that I didn't know; that I had heard that he had died, but that I hadn't been able to get any information since then.

That ended the search. I found a phone number for his mom, but I didn't call. I figured that it would be too awkward.

I think to myself, how sad for someone with living family to die and nobody even notice. Nobody even wrote an obituary. I wondered if he has been buried. I think that it would be terribly sad to live for 50 years, and then die and not even get an obituary. I shudder to think that it could happen to me. I wanted to write him an obit. So, here it is:

Jim, Born Sept 3, 1961. Died March 5, 2011

Jim, was born and lived in Brewton, Alabama most of his life.He enjoyed sports during his young life. He liked to hang out with friends. And he was a ladies man even at a young age.
Later in life, he married, fathered several children, and held down a job for years before his untimely death at the age of 50.
He is survived by his mother, Virginia Smith, of Cantonment, Florida and her husband, Mr. Smith, a wife, several children, and two sisters.
He is also survived by childhood friends, who will probably miss him the most of anybody.

There. Now he has an obituary. Rest in peace, my childhood friend......