I believe the one thing that made it easier for my parents to say goodbye was that they knew there was a body of believers in Dasher, Georgia eagerly awaiting my arrival. Hugh and Jewell Guthrie had driven their truck and trailer to Oklahoma and moved everything for me. When I arrived in Dasher sometime around 12:30 AM I went directly to the Hyta House where I expected to find a trailer full of my belongings. There was no trailer. For some reason an empty feeling came over me. I guess I just wanted the assurance that everything had arrived and was safe.
Bummed, I got out of the truck and let the dogs run a bit in the yard. When I opened the back door, I immediately realized that everything had already been moved into the house. Each box was appropriately placed in the room for which it was labeled. Boxes not labeled were placed in spare bedrooms - there were even sheets on my bed.
That was truly a sign of the times to come for me in Georgia. Over the next five years I grew passionate about Georgia Christian School and the value of Christian education. I grew closer to the families that I worked with and whose children attended the school. I met alumni that were sent here in the 40’s and 50’s to live in the dorms and attend school at Dasher Bible School, and I heard their stories of spiritual transformation. I learned of the history of restoration in the Lord’s church in this area and the role the school had played in church growth. I’ve learned the value of commitment and understanding the real cost of sacrifice for something in which you believe.
When I began looking for church home, I felt it would only be fair to look at congregations outside of the community in which I lived. There were many that I visited and each and every one is filled with wonderful, beautiful people. But I never felt a connection with a body until I visited the Central Avenue Church of Christ in Valdosta. The very first day I attended, I knew this was the place I wanted to worship. I placed membership with the congregation in late January or early February of 2001.
Fast forward now to October 2002. Time was flying by but I loved my new life in Georgia. I had made many friends at work, at church and in the community. Then, one night after Sunday evening services, I went to Wendy’s to get something to eat. I had done this many times, but this night would be so different from the rest. When I walked in I recognized a large group of 39’ers (Sr. Saints, people over 55-60’ish) from Central. While I recognized faces, and some recognized me, we didn’t know each other well. Upon making eye contact, smiling and saying hello, they immediately asked me to join them. Sister Carolyn Brinson jumped up and began moving another table and chairs to the group so there would be room. She insisted I sit – and I did.
They liked me, and I liked them. We sat and talked for a long, long time. They asked lots of questions and I made them laugh. About a month later they invited me to a 39’er fish fry. Many joked with me asking me what I was doing at a fish fry for (older saints) 39’ers. I just happened to be 39 at the time and told them point blank that I was the only one there that was 39 years old, and the rest of the group were not telling the truth. Again, I made them laugh. Little did I know that after that night they would begin plotting.
My birthday is February 19. I tried to figure out a way to make turning 40 years old monumental. I thought about taking a trip. I thought about going home to celebrate with my family or with friends in Oklahoma and Texas. But one evening I received a call at the house. It was from Barbara Colson, a dear friend and the secretary of the Board of Directors of Georgia Christian School. She informed me that a group was planning a gathering of “donors and possible donors” at the McMullen Club House the very weekend of my birthday. The board felt I needed to attend this gathering and that I should be prepared to represent the school.
After pouting for a few weeks and a week of fighting the flu, I begrudgingly got dressed for the occasion. Barbara and Wally said I could ride with them. When we arrived, the clubhouse was packed with nearly 70 friends from church and school. They gathered to surprise me and celebrate my 40th birthday. My coworkers had covered so well I expected anything but this. I honestly felt like I was going to pass out. Moments later when I was surprised by my sisters Valarie and Laura, I broke into tears.
I know for a lot of people, a surprise birthday party or visit from family is nothing to cry about. The surprise party did not make me cry. The reality that this group of brothers and sisters in Christ cared enough about me to go to such great lengths to assure I would not be spending my birthday alone is what brought me to tears. I had no idea they cared so much.
Over the seven-plus years since that night, I’ve grown closer, and closer, and closer to the body believers at Central Avenue – specifically the 39’ers. With some, we have become family. Their kindness and generosity has had such an immense impact on, not only my life, but who I am! I know firsthand how something as simple as inviting someone to dinner can change a person’s life. I know how inviting someone to sit with you in worship service can change your spirit. I know how simply including someone can make a stranger feel at home in a new place. I know more and more what it means to be like Christ.
These are not new values to me. You can read previous posts and know that I come from a family that shares this same faith and these same values and practices. But until I found myself 1200 miles from “home,” I took these values for granted. Now I know their worth. Now my heart aches for those outside the body of believers who long for this connection.
When I began these thoughts in Part I, I said I was happy with ME. More importantly, I’m happy with what brought me to this place. I thank God every day for a congregation and faith family that recognizes the power and presence of the Holy Spirit. In these ten years I’ve opened my heart and life for the first time to let that Spirit guide me. Do I fail? YES! Have I mastered the art of giving up self? NO, NO, NO, I fight it every day. But I do feel His presence, I acknowledge His presence, and I challenge myself every day to let Him lead. Thus – I am happier with me.
You see, I no longer beat myself up because I fail every day. I no longer lie in bed at night and wonder if I should just give up because I know I can never be good enough. I no longer wonder if God will ever forgive me for the things in my past for which I am ashamed. I do know that Christ came so that we might live life more abundantly, and I intend on doing my best to live up to that every day. I thank God daily for leading me to this place.
Bubba
Happy Anniversary - Part I
For weeks now I’ve been planning to write something profound here that would justly document the last ten years of my life. You see, Sunday October 24 was the 10 year anniversary of the day I loaded my truck with the last of my belongings, my two dogs, and headed to Georgia. I seem to have hit a road block. I don’t know where to begin or how I want the piece to end. What I do know is that I’ve been happier these past 10 years than I have been in all my life. More importantly, I’ve been happier with me!
To understand what the last decade as meant to me, I suppose you would need to know what led me here. Let’s begin by going back to the summer of 2000 and southern Oklahoma.
In 1993 I began working for the Oklahoma Department of Human Services in the Division of Children and Family Services. More specifically, I worked in child welfare. I had worked hard, proven myself to be dependable, passionate about children, and a public advocate for children. My supervisors noticed this and I advanced quickly in the division and was promoted a few years before the policy standard. This was great for me professionally, but hard for me personally because I was criticized and disliked by those who had labored longer and thought they deserved the promotions based simply on years of service.
Nevertheless, I found colleagues that would become lifelong friends. We supported each other. We learned how to laugh out loud when your heart was breaking on the inside. We understood that when dealing with child abuse and neglect you are dealing with the ugliest side of humanity. It takes a special person to make a career in that field. I guess I wasn’t that special.
As I advanced to the state office adoptions unit, I daily worked with wonderful people that truly wanted to make a difference in children’s lives. But I also worked with the legal system, and I worked with lazy case workers. I worked with children that had been abused, neglected, and abandoned. Eventually, it would all take its toll. I came to a point when I simply didn’t know how to handle situations. I knew what the law and policy stated, but I also knew what my heart and my faith were leading me to do. While I wasn’t looking for another job, I was looking for answers to tough decisions.
One afternoon in the summer of 2000, I stopped by my house on Pine Avenue in Duncan, Oklahoma. I picked up my mail and headed back to the office with the intention of working late. After everyone had gone for the evening I pulled out my mail and began to read the most recent edition of the Christian Chronicle. It was there that I first read about Georgia Christian School in Valdosta, Georgia. They were looking for a Director of Development.
Fast forward to the evening of October 22, 2000 - All of my family living in Waurika came to Duncan to load everything I owned onto a truck headed for South Georgia. It was a happy occasion. Everyone seemed to know that this was a good thing for me. The next day, my sister Valarie and I would return to clean the house. The day after that changed my life. Sometime around 4:00 AM on the morning of the 24th I decided to stop fighting the inability to sleep and just get on the road. I quietly got dressed, walked the dogs, and woke my parents. I didn’t know what to expect. Daddy and I both cry at the drop of hat, and I feared goodbye would be difficult.
To that point, the decision to apply, interview and to move all came relatively simple. But what happened next was something I had never experience. What happened as Momma, Daddy and I gathered in the kitchen was a peace I had never felt before. I felt a sense of excitement. I saw smiles on their faces. For once in my life I was walking with God – I knew it, and they knew it.
Since the summer I had prayed more on this decision than I had ever prayed before in my life. I didn’t know what was ahead of me, but I trusted God and it felt right. I know now that my parents were praying equally as hard and they were feeling the same things. So there were no sad goodbyes; just well wishes and a challenge to have fun, and keep God in my life. As I pulled out of the drive it began to rain a little. I’ll never forget the two of them standing under the garage holding hands, smiling, and yes, happy tears.
There’s either a really great book or a tacky country and western song in all of the thoughts, reflections, plans and ideas that crossed my mind as this man and his two dogs drove 1200 miles (in one day) to his new home in Georgia. It was an adventure – a feeling I will never forget.
Bubba
What does God look like?
Today was a most wonderful day in the brotherhood in Valdosta, Georgia. I loved Bryan’s comment tonight that today gave him a glimpse of what it was like in the days of the early church – “back in the day” when the followers came from miles around to spend the day together worshipping, in fellowship, laughing, mourning, being family.The morning was great for me, as usual, because I love the family at Central Avenue. I miss these people throughout the week, and I thrive on being together with the church. There have been times in my life when I could not say that, but I say it today and I mean every word.
We began with our Bible study adding faithfulness to our fruit of the spirit. We were asked who came to mind when we heard the word faithful, and immediately my Grandmommy came to mind. She was faithful in every aspect of the word. She was faithful to the Lord and faithful to her commitments to the brotherhood even when she didn’t have the support of all of her family. She was faithful to her family doing everything she could to keep Christ at the center and giving when she had little to give. We wore handmade clothes and still enjoy handmade quilts, blankets, linens and crafts that are distinctly “Pauline.” And, she was faithful to those she cared for working at the nursing home in the evening hours. Had she not been so faithful and encouraging to Mother, we might not have been raised in the Christian family we still hold so closely today.
We followed class with another great lesson from Bryan. I want to thank him for keeping it real and making the Word of God so practical. It was a perfect segue to the long afternoon to follow.
Immediately following the service, a funeral luncheon was being served next door. Not one, but two funerals were held today. First we had the funeral of a dear brother followed by the funeral of a dear sister. While we were all sad to be saying goodbye, each service was truly a celebration of the lives lived by this brother and sister. What an inspiration to hear the words of joy being spoken about the life, the inspiration, the hard work, the dedication, the faithfulness. Whether it was about their faith, their family, their careers – it was said, sometimes through tears, but with a smile.
Ironically the next event for the day was a baby shower. Again, it was so warming to see the brotherhood gathered around a young couple that is about to welcome their first child into the world. The smiles on their faces while surrounded by grandparents, family and friends seemed to take our minds off of the most recent events of the day, if even for a little while. We are blessed with many young families at Central, and I love that!
We then quickly began to reset tables as families began bringing in even more desserts for a reception that would follow the evening worship that was about to begin. I don’t think his sermon could have been brought at a better time. The title: What does God look like? - More on that in a minute.
The service was followed by a bittersweet reception for Gordon and Elaine Tefferteller. When I arrived at Central almost 10 years ago both were retired but still a great presence in the church. Gordon was serving as an elder still, Elaine always the encourager. Remember, I moved to Georgia to work with Georgia Christian School. In the early days of their marriage the Teffertellers also worked at GCS, then Dasher Bible School. It was a hard job then, and things hadn’t changed much when I arrived. They understood my challenges and we quickly formed a bond. They looked out for me and I was always keenly aware of their presence in the congregation. Oh how many times I have heard Mrs. Elaine call my name and command me to come and give her hug. But it was more than just a church hug. Every time she wanted to know how I was doing; how I was really doing. She could see through the routine “fine” we often throw out, and she would quickly get to the bottom of things if I was not, indeed, fine. She cares about me – they both do.
Tonight’s reception was bittersweet because we were saying goodbye to Gordon and Elaine. He is no longer serving as an elder, and their health is failing. Along with their family, they have decided to move to Atlanta to be closer to children and grandchildren that can help with their care. I couldn’t help but cry with her when she said that she had cried all day as she watched her furniture being moved out of her home. Then she wrapped her arms around me and said some things I will never forget.
Elaine told me that she had been watching me these years at Central. She knew many of the hardships I faced with GCS. She watched as I faced unemployment, looking for a home, finding my place. She watched as I was hired at Valdosta State and found a new place in the community. Tonight she told me how proud she was of how I had handled myself in every situation, how I had never lost faith, how I never lost my spirit. Then she said something that truly touched my heart. She said that her only regret was that she didn’t do more for me. Then she hugged me, told me how much she loved me, and we said goodbye.
What does God look like? Jesus Christ is the face of God. Jesus Christ is God (John 1). Our God is real and through human flesh we see Him in Jesus Christ – exactly what God wants us to be.
We concluded the lesson with the statement that we do not know what God physically looks like. Tonight, I disagree. God looks like my Grandmommy. God looks like the women and men that labored to prepare and serve a meal to the families who were burying a loved one today. God looks like the many brethren that gathered under tents in the pouring rain so they would not have to face this alone. God looks like the men, women and children that gathered around a brother and sister to celebrate the birth of their first child. God looks like the family that came together to worship and rejoiced in being physically exhausted having spent the entire day together. God looks like Gordon and Elaine Tefferteller. I will miss them.
Bubba
Getting Ahead
I read a Forbes article last week on how to be the one that gets the promotion. While it wasn’t rocket science, I could see how some people might find this as good advice. More interesting to me was the timing. You see, I’ve been praying for opportunities on the job and when the title and link appeared on my homepage I knew it couldn’t be coincidence.
First a little background on my profession. For the past 10 years I’ve worked as a professional fundraiser. To be successful in this business is to be respected, to be honest, and to be trusted. We are driven by a code of ethics and a commitment to both our cause and those that support our cause. To misrepresent the need, to lie to a donor, or to simply not follow a donor’s wishes is unacceptable practice. Particularly in my area of expertise, corporate and foundation relations, unethical behavior is a guaranteed practice that will kill a career.
So then, I approached the Forbes article expecting profound advice on how to be dependable and trustworthy while all the time getting noticed by the boss. Instead I read a series of brief paragraphs on how to thrust yourself into the limelight, to get the attention of the powers that be and, how to manipulate and influence the decisions they make. Suggestions of how to focus attention on your performance versus that of colleagues greatly outnumbered any suggestion to “do the right thing.” It was difficult to visualize any practical application on the job – my job.
Another interesting thing happened last week. I attended the funeral of a very dear brother in Christ. While I don’t recall the specific scripture read, I remember it was from the Thessalonian letter. That evening when I sat down to read, I turned to I Thessalonians and began. In the NIV, chapter 4 begins with the heading, “Living to Please God.” Verses 11 & 12 read, “Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody. “
I know the secret to getting ahead in this life! I know that finding the Forbes article was coincidence. I know that God’s response to that article was not.
Bubba
First a little background on my profession. For the past 10 years I’ve worked as a professional fundraiser. To be successful in this business is to be respected, to be honest, and to be trusted. We are driven by a code of ethics and a commitment to both our cause and those that support our cause. To misrepresent the need, to lie to a donor, or to simply not follow a donor’s wishes is unacceptable practice. Particularly in my area of expertise, corporate and foundation relations, unethical behavior is a guaranteed practice that will kill a career.
So then, I approached the Forbes article expecting profound advice on how to be dependable and trustworthy while all the time getting noticed by the boss. Instead I read a series of brief paragraphs on how to thrust yourself into the limelight, to get the attention of the powers that be and, how to manipulate and influence the decisions they make. Suggestions of how to focus attention on your performance versus that of colleagues greatly outnumbered any suggestion to “do the right thing.” It was difficult to visualize any practical application on the job – my job.
Another interesting thing happened last week. I attended the funeral of a very dear brother in Christ. While I don’t recall the specific scripture read, I remember it was from the Thessalonian letter. That evening when I sat down to read, I turned to I Thessalonians and began. In the NIV, chapter 4 begins with the heading, “Living to Please God.” Verses 11 & 12 read, “Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody. “
I know the secret to getting ahead in this life! I know that finding the Forbes article was coincidence. I know that God’s response to that article was not.
Bubba
Why Bubba?
Webster defines Bubba as a stereotypical nickname of Southern white males. I believe that stereotypes are in the eye of the beholder. What you think it means is really up to you. For me, there is nothing stereotypical about the name.
For those that don’t know the details, there are six children in the lineup of my family and I am number three. I have two older sisters and was followed by two more girls and one baby brother. I don’t think it was until I had a younger sister that I was called anything but Kerry Wayne. However, the earliest memory I have of someone calling me Bubba was by my sister just older than I, Sherry Lynn.
I had to be four or five years old and it was in the late spring in our hometown of Waurika. Daddy was tilling his garden plot and, I was walking behind him barefooted in the cool Oklahoma dirt trying to step only in the tracks he left with his boots. I don’t remember what she wanted or why she called my name, but I remember she called out Bubba and, I remember she was talking to me.
Some 43 plus years later, she still calls me Bubba. The nieces and nephews call me Bubba or Uncle Bubba. When talking to the children about me, Momma and Daddy even call me Bubba. So you see, Bubba to me is a term of endearment that means big brother, uncle, son – FAMILY. Only one person outside of my immediate family uses this name on a regular basis. I am, however, proud to call her family and it thrills me more than they will ever imagine knowing that their precious little one also knows me as “Uncle Bubba.”
You can call me Bubba if you like. But I can tell in your voice if you are comfortable saying it, and I can tell if it comes from the heart.
Bubba
For those that don’t know the details, there are six children in the lineup of my family and I am number three. I have two older sisters and was followed by two more girls and one baby brother. I don’t think it was until I had a younger sister that I was called anything but Kerry Wayne. However, the earliest memory I have of someone calling me Bubba was by my sister just older than I, Sherry Lynn.
I had to be four or five years old and it was in the late spring in our hometown of Waurika. Daddy was tilling his garden plot and, I was walking behind him barefooted in the cool Oklahoma dirt trying to step only in the tracks he left with his boots. I don’t remember what she wanted or why she called my name, but I remember she called out Bubba and, I remember she was talking to me.
Some 43 plus years later, she still calls me Bubba. The nieces and nephews call me Bubba or Uncle Bubba. When talking to the children about me, Momma and Daddy even call me Bubba. So you see, Bubba to me is a term of endearment that means big brother, uncle, son – FAMILY. Only one person outside of my immediate family uses this name on a regular basis. I am, however, proud to call her family and it thrills me more than they will ever imagine knowing that their precious little one also knows me as “Uncle Bubba.”
You can call me Bubba if you like. But I can tell in your voice if you are comfortable saying it, and I can tell if it comes from the heart.
Bubba
Welcome to my blog!
With friends and colleagues blogging, I suppose it was only a matter of time before curiosity would get the best of me and I would become a blogger, too. Like many of you, I suspect I will find this as a way of communicating with people I don’t get to see on a regular basis. Perhaps it will be an opportunity share ideas and happenings. But be forewarned, I do like to write and I do have an opinion. It’s bound to come out sooner or later. With that being said, welcome to my blog.
