Woe Is Me

“Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” These words are spoken by Isaiah as he experiences the pure holiness of God and is called as God’s prophet. It is an awesome and humbling encounter convicting Isaiah with a sense of guilt and unworthiness and causing him to feel reluctant and hesitant. This captures, in a true sense, what many have felt as they answered God’s call to be witnesses and teachers. I believe some observable attributes have always characterized the lives of the saints in our history. Following are some thoughts:

1. The authentic call of God is evidenced by unconditional love and compassion for all people in all places and all times. “For God so loved the world… God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him (John 3:16-17).”

2. Saints have a hesitancy to judge others usually brought on through a deep and contrite awareness of their own sin. “How can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while the log is in your own eye (Matthew 7:4)?

3. Saints are truth-telling, neighbor-loving, humble-walking witnesses who engage others in prayerful, inclusive, loving dialogue and understand, clearly, that our passion to defend our own personal beliefs often blinds us to God’s call to love.

As I pray this morning and reflect on the above, I feel my heart moved and I understand, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” And, for me,…. It’s back on the Potter’s wheel over and over again…….. “How is it with your soul?”

Brother Mike

"We the imperfect seeking the perfect" - Brother Mike Densmore

Brother Mike begins Holy Week with a word on Practicing the Presence.

Brother Mike on Scripture and Meditation

Brother Mike ends the week with reminders about Adoration & Worship.

Adoration & Worship - Brother Mike Densmore

Worship & Adoration

"O worship the King, all glorious above, O gratefully sing God's power & God's love." (oops, you caught me singing)… 

I love the church, always have and pray, I always will. From the time I was a little boy, the church has been a happy place, a place for fellowship and singing, a place for searching and learning new things. I've been blessed to be a part of over twenty different churches over the years, ranging in membership from 14 to >6000. The interesting thing about all of them, all different and, yet, in some amazing way, they were all alike. All came together in worship & adoration of our Lord Jesus Christ. All found ways to "Lift their hearts to God."

From Shady Grove in Clay County, I still remember the all-day singings on-the-ground, the Gospel singings, and the Baptisms on Easter Sunday. I remember when the confirmands would walk to their baptisms singing only the verses of "On Jordan's Stormy Banks I Stand" and, after their baptisms, the whole church (all 20 of them) would explode with the chorus, "I am bound for the promised land, I am bound for the promised land. O, who will come and go with me? I am bound for the promised land."

1. Here, in Alex City, I can remember great cantatas, gospel groups, marvelous Vacation Bible Schools, drama presentations, and singing on the Russell "Good-Will Hour." We sang everything from classical to bluegrass and, through it all, we "Lifted our hearts to God" and entered into "communion" with God and warm fellowship with each other.

2. North & south of the Mason-Dixon, east & west of the Mississippi, I've witnessed the faithful as they "practiced the presence of God" and expressed their hope with joy and thanksgiving.

3. Today, I worship at ACFUMC, where we have three distinctly different styles of worship services, and almost everyone thinks their particular service is the best. The truth is that God is pleased with all true worship when people "come together, seek His face, humble themselves, pray, and lift their hearts to God." The shawl I am wearing was knit for me by one of our saints at ACFUMC, and I wear it during special times of prayer and, at times in my office, when I am seeking direction and clarity concerning an appropriate word for our worship services on Sundays.

We can all share experiences of worship in many ways, in different places, at different times. This Lenten season, I invite you to look for ways to experience an encounter with God. I assure you God is already looking for an encounter with you.        

1st Peter 2:9 says that "We are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God so that we might declare the praises of God who called us out of the darkness into his wonderful light." I have not met many people who did not want to bask in the light of God's love, to remain faithful and true to God's call upon our lives, and to do good and seek that which is best for others. But, sometimes our lamps tend to run out of oil, our matches get wet, the darkness begins to creep in and, with it, the distractions of the world. 

Well, do not be afraid. We are in good company. The Saints who have gone before us struggled with the same issues. How do we abide in the light of God's grace when grace is a gift of God and not something we can claim by merit? How can we "lift our hearts to God" and stand in the way of God's grace as God continually works to reclaim us, restore us, and renew us?

The answer is through "Adoration & Worship." Throughout the centuries, the church has turned to the scriptures, studied the teachings of Jesus, and adopted certain practices (or disciplines) through which we claim God's offer of grace and stand faithfully in the light of God's grace as we grow deeper in love with Him and with the people in the world. These practices form our approach to "Adoration & Worship" as we seek to give thanksgiving to God for the blessings of our lives and worship God in spirit and in truth. In our worship and devotional life, we are seeking an encounter with the Living Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit.

Adoration & worship are our means to those encounters.  

Let's talk about these a little:

1. Adoration comes from a Greek word that means "a reverence and respect directed only to the Holy Trinity and The Eucharist." Adoration occurs in those times when we are, spiritually, at-one with the Holy Spirit in such an embrace that praise & thanksgiving are pulled forth from us into the very presence of God.

2. To worship has a double meaning. It means to "Bow Down in humility before the holiness of God" and, it also means to "Lift up our hearts to God" as we allow God to recreate our hearts in the fashion of God's own.

And so, the church gathers for worship, where everything is rooted in the scriptures, liturgy, and traditions of the Saints who have gone before us. We are truly, "one with Christ, one with each other, and one in service to God's world." We proclaim the Living Word of God in a relevant way with Biblical, historical, and theological integrity for the people of God. We hear as the message is proclaimed, and we discern God's Word for us today in a way that brings a sense of unity into the diverseness of the world. In our finest hour, we experience an encounter with the Risen Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. Songs are sung; the Word is proclaimed; prayers are shared; offerings are made of our resources and our lives, and the sacraments of Baptism & Communion are celebrated, as God hosts us into God's sanctuaries of healing, hope, restoration, and new life.

We come into the fellowship of God's worship. We listen as the Holy Spirit opens to us the Word of truth. We sing the songs of praise & thanksgiving. We pray for God to heal our sick, guide our lives, and strengthen us in the land of our living. We hope that mercy and grace will bring peace to our world as we repent of our sins and claim the promises of God. We "Lift our hearts to God" as we take the bread, drink the cup, and allow our hearts to be renewed in the presence of the Holy.

God is calling you, and God is calling me into a life of "Adoration & Worship," into a life of intentionally "practicing the presence of God" that leads us out of the darkness and into the light of his grace. It is in worship we remember, "Christ has died, Christ is risen, & Christ will come again," and we rise with the assurance that where Christ is, we shall be one day. We rise from true worship to go forth into the world to share the love of God with all we meet, "seeking justice, loving mercy, and living humbly."… One day at a time.   

The call of God upon our hearts is to "lift our hearts to God" in worship as we "love God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength." And "love others as we love ourselves." O gracious God, teach us to worship in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.  

"Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail, in thee do we trust, nor find thee to fail; thy mercies how tender, how firm to the end, our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend…"

Worship is practicing the presence of God!  Worship is loving God & loving you, Bro Mike

Note: In the message above, several phrases are in quotations. This is to acknowledge they are either from the scriptures or saints who have gone before us and are not original to me. MLD  

I Saw Santa Claus

It was always my Dad's favorite Christmas story and, almost every year, he would ask me to share with others my experience on Christmas Eve, 1955. It was a long time ago, but the memory is as clear today as the experience was that night.

We were living in Goodwater and had been to Ashland for dinner with several family members. We had stayed fairly late, and I was concerned about getting home before Santa came and getting into bed like a good little boy. I was full of anxious and hopeful anticipation.

 As we pulled into the driveway, the lights of the car shined directly into the window of the living room. There he was, Santa Claus, looking directly into the lights of the car. I shouted, "There's Santa Claus next to the tree." The car had barely stopped as I jumped out and dashed to the door. I opened the door, turned on the light, and dashed through the small house looking for Santa only to realize he was gone.

I ran quickly back into the living room and realized Santa had been there and he must have gotten my letter because under the tree was a "Coonskin Davy Crockett hat" and a "Smoke-gun." My Mom and Dad asked me what I had seen that made me jump out and run in as I had. I explained that Santa was standing in the window. He turned and looked with surprise when he was caught in the headlights, and he had scampered toward the back door. When I came into the house, he was nowhere to be found.

That was sixty-five years ago. Until the day they died, our family always liked to talk about that experience, and none of us could ever explain it. But, I know this, "On that night, a long time ago, I saw Santa Claus." And, that vision is as real today as it was that night.

Perhaps, if we allow our hearts to be filled with faith, hope, joy, and love this Christmas, we could catch a glimpse of Emmanuel, "God With Us," this Christmas.

Get Ready! Look and listen! "Some will dream dreams; others will see visions." May it happen for you this Christ-Mass season.

Blessings, Bro. Mike 

What Do You Want For Christmas?

As I was thinking about Advent this morning, my mind wandered to presents for those we love and how to delight them in the midst of a pandemic where we are advised not to gather or travel; what a bummer. My mind went through online purchase with shipping, sending gift cards, making some honorary gifts to good causes, or a combination of these.

As often happens, I quit thinking and started listening. I was reminded the best gifts are usually not wrapped or under a tree. The best gifts are gifts of the heart that we remember and treasure throughout our lives. These are the gifts that define our experiences and add value to our lives. Words from Galatians 5:22-23 came to my mind, “The fruit of the Spirit is joy, love, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things.” Immediately, my heart cried out, “Lord, give me a double helping of that fruit. I need it bad.”

I do not know about you, but I am a little strung out with the pandemic. I am concerned about the conflicting and competing directions of some leaders, and I am pretty much fed up with less than truthful reporting and positioning from parties protecting their own self-interest. I found myself identifying with some of the characters in the scriptures; “My soul cries out, O Lord, how long will you allow this to continue.” My answer came quickly: “Until it is over. Until then, watch yourself, and get ready.”

So, I have decided the best presents are not under the tree. The best presents are those that live in the heart and guide our relationships with God and others. I have decided I really do want a double dose of joy, love, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. A double dose might be enough to inoculate me from the brokenness of the world. So, let it be.

By the way, What Do You Want for Christmas?    Blessings, Mike. 

What I Want For Christmas

 I remember the night well. I was in the third grade and our family had gone to Montgomery for a night of “window shopping.” Window shopping was a ploy during which people walked the sidewalks in front of all the big stores and looked at all the potential gifts displayed in the window to assess other’s attraction to the various toys, etc. on display. And there was a surprisingly good correlation between the emotions one displayed for the various gifts and what ended up under the Christmas tree from Santa.

     I had always loved window shopping but, on this night, I just could not get excited about anything. Just that week, a wiser classmate than I had told me the “truth” about Santa Claus. He told me that my parents had to pay Santa for everything he left at our house. Well, that was a bummer. My Mom and Dad were great people and fun to be around, but we did not have a lot of extra money and the way we got extra money was for one or both to work overtime. That meant less family time together. I had calculated in my eight-year-old mind the way to keep that from happening was not want anything for Christmas. So, I acted as if nothing in any of the windows was of any interest to me at all.

     It did not take my mother long to realize something was wrong and, as only she could do with a couple of questions, she unveiled the truth. I broke down crying and blubbered out, “Ole ______ had told me about Santa.” After Mother recovered from her anger with _______ (who she never forgave) for having broken my innocence, she sat down on a bench with me and explained Christmas Clubs and savings that enabled extra spending at Christmas and we would not miss out on any of the “good times” because we would all be together. It was amazing how quickly that assurance enabled my attention to return to the many attractions in the windows.

     Now, as I process that experience almost sixty-five years later, I realize how very precious presence is when compared to presents. A truth in our lives is all the presents in the world can not make up for the presence of those we love and there is no better time to celebrate this than during the Christmas season. So, I encourage you to find a way this Christmas season to be truly present with those you love. I know there is a pandemic going on and I think it could really be used in a wonderful way to give some quality presence to those you may wish to see and cannot. Here are a few thoughts:

1. For those from whom you are not distancing, invite them into your presence and give them the gift of undivided attention for thirty minutes. Make their interest and concerns the center of your world. Encourage them and assure them of the importance of their role in your life and tell them you love them.

2. For those you can not see in person, schedule some FaceTime or Zoom and follow the routine in number one above. I have been amazed how effective gatherings can be when you are present in these formats with others.

3. Send cards and flowers with personal notes.

4. Carve out some time to be truly present with Jesus. After all, Jesus is the reason we “live and move and have our being.” “Without Jesus, the Word of God, not one thing came into being.”

5. ….. Do whatever other things you hear God tell you to do…. If you are present, God will speak….

     Do not ever forget, we live “in the Communion of the Saints.” I plan to spend a little time there in their presence (those past and present) and encourage you to do so too. To paraphrase Paul, “No pandemic nor anything else in all creation, can separate our hearts from those we love.” May we make this the best Christmas ever by being presents in new and authentic ways. And that is what I want for Christmas.               

With much love, MERRY CHRISTMAS, Mike & Patsy Coe  

The Bridge

Years ago, on the first Walk to Emmaus at Camp Sumatanga in North Alabama, I had gone to sit and pray on a small bridge across the small creek that flows next to Hutto Auditorium. I was about to go into the conference room and give the talk on discipleship to the men there that weekend. I can remember working hard on the talk. I had researched, studied, practiced under critique, and fine-tuned the subject of discipleship to a point with which I thought God would be well pleased. 

No sooner had I begun to pray than a young girl, maybe ten to twelve years old, came along and plopped right down on the bridge with me. Immediately, she disrupted my time of prayer and preparation, “Hi, my name is Shannon, what’s yours?” Hoping she would leave, I told her and she immediately followed up with another question, “What are you doing here?” I began to explain to her that I was about to go give a very important talk about discipleship to a group of men on a retreat. She was not the least impressed and asked, “Where does the water in this creek come from?” I was beginning to get frustrated and was trying to decide how I could get her to leave so I could continue my praying and preparation. However, I took the time and explained to her that about a half a mile upstream in the creek, past the pool camp and above a beaver pond, there was a spring coming out of the side of the mountain that provided the water for the creek. Immediately, she wanted to know if we could go and see the spring. I explained to her again that I did not have time. I was trying to get ready to give this talk on discipleship and needed time to prepare. Her immediate response was, “Why? What’s so hard about that?”

That did it. It was time. I was ready for her to leave. However, that small voice that sometimes speaks to us and moves us to do what we do not want to do spoke to me and nudged me to ask Shannon if she knew what a disciple was. She never blinked or hesitated. She simply said, “Yes.” With more than a hint of skepticism, I said, “Well, why don’t you tell me what a disciple is?” She looked up at me and said, “Sure, a disciple is someone who talks like Jesus talked, walks like Jesus walked, and loves like Jesus loved.” 

Needless to say, my pen was busy instantly; scratching out my well planned conclusion and, only a few minutes later, the men on that retreat heard of an encounter at the bridge and learned that a disciple was someone who talks like Jesus talked, walks like Jesus walked, and loves like Jesus loved.

Thank you, Shannon, for those precious moments at the bridge. It has now been over thirty years since that day and I still use your definition of a disciple. 

Brother Mike Densmore

Humility: A Truly Spiritual Challenge

I remember over thirty-five years ago meeting with Claude Whitehead as a spiritual mentor, listening to his teaching, praying, and seeking a deeper relationship with Jesus. We each had goals and we would share how well, or not, we were progressing toward our goals. As we met one Monday afternoon, Claude began to share how devastated he was with the result of his effort to “become humble.” Trying to be pastoral, I implored into the disappointment of his failure. Claude was quick to respond, “It’s worse than that. This morning, I found myself feeling proud of my humility and, I had a vision. I was climbing a ladder toward humility and I could see the top. As I reached, I said, ‘Got it.’ Then, I fell back down the ladder hitting my chin on every step of the ladder. When I looked up, at the bottom, I saw the name of the first step was “humility.”

True humility has forever been a spiritual challenge for us humans and true humility can only come through authentic surrender to the Lordship of Jesus. It is a challenge for each of us and especially to us as Americans. We are a blessed people, free and independent, with rights, privileges, and blessings second to no other people on the face of the earth. However, with that, comes tremendous liability and responsibility.

How do we become humble enough to yield our freedom to the Sovereign control of God? How do we become humble enough to serve Jesus as Lord? How do we become humble enough to surrender our lives to the Authority of all authorities? It’s a truly spiritual challenge.

Beware this challenge! It must be an authentic search and it’s a goal that can never be claimed. Oswald Chambers called conscious humility, “The most satanic type of human pride.” Think and pray before you begin this journey, you just might get your chin bruised.

Blessings,

Mike

Don't Shoot the Hog

I learned a lesson over fifty (50) years ago that I think about from time to time and have a chuckle. I was deer hunting with a group of men and boys on a really cold morning. The frost was heavy, and ice was everywhere. The Hunt Master for the day was the landowner, an ole country man by the name of Leo, who had decided our first drive would be across a thirty-acre swamp thick with briars and shallow water. Since this group often called me "Swamp Cat," Leo asked me to go through the swamp with him. Then, the lecture began. He explained he had hogs living in the swamp, and we needed to be careful to only shoot "deer with horns on their head" and not his hogs. Several times, we listened as Leo gave specific instructions how to ensure we were hunting deer and not hogs. After several versions of instructions, the hunt began; everyone went to stands on the other side of the swamp, and Leo and I began to work through the swamp. His final instruction to me was, "Whatever you do, don't shoot my hogs."

As we began moving through the swamp, it was miserable and cold. Saw-briars and vines were thick, and it was hard to see more than fifteen to twenty feet anywhere you looked. Leo and I stayed in communication by whooping at each other several times each minute. We were about half-way through the swamp when it happened; I heard something big jump out of the brush and quickly heard Leo's old single barrel shotgun. Then, stone silence. I stood still and silent for a couple of minutes before calling out, "Leo, did you get him?" I got a very curt response, "Shut up, boy." I started to make my way toward Leo when I heard the shotgun roar a second time. I paused again and asked, "Leo, did you get him?" The answer came back more frustrated than before, "Shut up, boy."

It took me a few minutes to make my way to Leo, and as I broke through the swamp to him, he was kneeling in the water. Looking up at me, he said clearly, "Don't you ever say a word about this; I just shot my _____ hog." After a few minutes to gather himself and one more warning to me about silence, we made our way through the swamp. Everyone had seen several hogs come out of the swamp, and one young boy had seen "a big buck with a big rack too late for a shot." Leo didn't miss the opportunity, "That must have been the one I shot at. All I saw was the rack through the brush." Believe it or not, the "Swamp Cat" learned some lessons that day:

1. When you are the landowner of the hogs, they are your hogs.

2. Sometimes what other people don't know doesn't hurt them or you either.

3. Protecting another's dignity and respect without harming someone else feels good.

4. Leo was grateful. When he processed that ole boar, we got a whole ham and five pounds of bacon.

5. There is grace in silence. Leo (now gone) and I never mentioned that hunt again. 

With a chuckle, Mike  

Living as Christians in a broken world is hard and it begins with living for others.

The past couple of months have been tough; a pandemic has ravaged across the globe and our normal routines have been disrupted and inconvenienced. Concurrently, a senseless killing has incited protests and riots throughout our country. Our behaviors, in both situations, concern me. Are we becoming a society short on self-discipline, disrespectful of rules of law, and lacking wisdom? We resist protocols intended to protect others and blatantly violate the limits of civil disobedience with concern for my perspective and mine only and seldom consider the effects on others.  

Wisdom is a big thing in the Bible and Jesus lived a life that exemplified wisdom in its purest form. Jesus was all about us living in ways that are synergistic with The Holy by loving God and loving others. James put it this way, “Where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will be disorder and wickedness of every kind. But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace.” (James 3:16-18)

Living as Christians in a broken world is hard and it begins with living for others. Let me share some examples from the past:

Jesus: “Love one another as I have loved you.”

St. Francis of Assisi

“Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love, where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy. O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love.  For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Charles D. Meigs: 

“Lord, help me live from day to day in such a self-forgetful way that even when I kneel to pray, my prayer shall be for __ OTHERS. Help me in all the work I do to ever be sincere and true and know that all I’d do for you, must needs be done for __ OTHERS. Let “Self” be crucified and slain, and buried deep; and all in vain may efforts be to rise again unless to live for __ OTHERS.

And when my work on earth is done, and my new work in Heaven’s begun, May I forget the crown I’ve won, while thinking still of __ OTHERS. __ Others, Lord, yes, others. Let this my motto be, help me to live for others, that I may live like Thee.”

Christian living is wisdom living. Lord, teach me how…….. Blessings, Mike.  

Memorial Day

This weekend has always been a special time for me. When I was a young boy, we would always go to some cemeteries in Winston, Cullman, and Walker counties for Decoration Day. I remember walking among the graves, reading the headstones, listening to stories, and imagining those departed saints as heroes and leaders. We added dirt to sunken areas of graves, accented them with river pebbles, and placed flowers in awe and respect for their lives. Then, we would all share “dinner on the ground” and sing a bunch of gospel songs before going home. This was always a special day and until this day, precious memories remain.

After a few years, I noticed a few rows of special headstones on the edge of the cemetery As I spent  time there, I learned they were casualties from the Civil War, both union and confederate soldiers. I asked my grandfather (“Pop”) about them. He explained Decoration Day was also known as Memorial Day and it was intended to honor all veterans who had died in service for our country. He said that no one really knew, exactly, how or where it started. There were several stories from over a dozen places from during the Civil War. When people had gone out on Decoration Day, they were inspired to place flowers on the graves of soldiers from both armies. Ever since, the practice had grown to honoring all soldiers who died while defending our freedoms and liberty as Americans. I am not sure my “Pop” knew  a few years earlier, our government had made the last Monday in May official as Memorial Day.

I would ask each of us to remember this weekend is rooted in recognition of those who gave their life defending the rights and liberties we enjoy today in a time of pronounced internal conflict as a nation and, since that time, hundreds of thousands of others have sacrificed their lives to protect our lives and our “rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

As we remember, may we resolve that it is our time to learn to sacrifice and face some inconveniences for the sake of others.

God’s Blessings & be safe, Mike. 

Ms. Willie Mae

 Ms. Willie Mae

I met Ms. Willie Mae the first afternoon of my first day in my first appointment. All four feet and ten inches of her showed up at the front door of the parsonage with a smile on her face and a plate full of fried apple pies with the steam still rising from them. As I took the pies from her, she pointed to her home, directly across the street, and said, “I live right there. I’m sure we’ll get to know each other real well.”

     Over the next few months, we did get to know each other well. I would go over to her house and we would sit out on the porch and swing in her swing. She was a snuff dipper and was proud of the way she could swing back and spit her tobacco juice into the shrubbery and never get a drop on her porch. I would learn that she had come to live in her little shotgun house when she was fourteen years old as the wife of a man over three times her age and that she had seldom been more than two miles from her house and the five acres of land it sat on. Quickly, I became amazed by the depth of her faith and the intimacy of her relationship with God. Early on, she informed me if I ever came over and heard her talking to someone I should not think it strange because she spent a lot of time talking to Jesus. I asked her if Jesus ever talked back to her to which she retorted, “Of course he does. You don’t think I’m crazy enough to keep talking to somebody who doesn’t talk to me do you.”

     I eventually learned that Ms. Willie Mae had lived a life full of challenges and tragedies. After giving birth to four children at a very early age, her husband died leaving her with nothing but a little 800 square foot house and five acres of land. She went to work washing, ironing, cooking, and cleaning house for other people in the mill village. In addition, she raised vegetables, chickens, pigs, and a cow for milk. Somehow, she was able to take care of her children and see that they were educated and had a good start in life. She was proud of her three sons and her “baby” girl.

     Her second tragedy came shortly after her oldest son had graduated from high school and joined the army. He had returned home on leave, gone out with some friends one night, and, on the way home, been killed in a car wreck. Ms. Willie Mae would often show his picture to me, talk about how much she missed him, and what a blessing he had been from God.

     About a year after we moved into the parsonage, the quietness of a Saturday night was shattered by someone knocking at the door. As I opened the door, Ms. Willie Mae’s next oldest son stepped into the room and asked, “Can you go over to Momma’s with me? Sally is dead.”

I was shocked. This was Ms. Willie Mae’s only daughter. Her husband had just come home from Viet Nam and they had gone to the lake to picnic and ski and, in a tragic accident, she had drowned.

 We went over to the house and knocked on the door. After a few minutes, Ms. Willie Mae came to the door, opened it, began crying, and immediately cried out, “Don’t tell me my Sally’s dead. Don’t tell me that.” Needless to say, it was a long dark night. The next few days were sad as we grieved together and had the funeral. Everyone was concerned as to whether or not Ms. Willie Mae would ever recover and if she would ever come back to church.

I went over to the house a couple of times and, each time, she was sitting in her rocker, holding her Bible, and just moaning. I began to wonder if she would ever return from the darkness of her grief. I wondered if we would ever sit on the porch again and laugh as she spat back into the bushes. I wondered if my sermons would ever again be interrupted by her uplifting, “Praise the Lord,” response to a point that resonated with her spirit in worship.

     However, my worries were short-lived. The first Sunday after the funeral, Ms. Willie Mae was back in church to the shock and surprise of us all. She walked in, just as the service was beginning, with a smile on her face and a little nod to everyone. She opened her hymnal and began to sing as if things were normal. Two times that morning, she even interrupted the sermon with a clear and strong, “Praise the Lord.” We were all amazed.

     Later that afternoon, I saw her in the swing on her front porch and went over to join her. We sat quietly for a while and she broke the silence. “Preacher, you know my life has not been easy. I’ve had to work hard. I never got an education and never had any money. There’s a lot I don’t understand. Two of my children are dead and I’m still here. It’s times like these that I’ve come to understand that, sometimes, you’ve just got to trust God. You just can’t get by no other way.”

     I know, without a doubt, that God nodded and smiled as the swing went back and she spit back into the bushes.

Brother Mike 

Balanced Perspective

I was a young man beginning at the beginning of a corporate career. I was not very savvy about corporate politics, but very fortunate, the Director of Human Resources had taken a personal interest in my development plan. He chose me as his golf partner in our company golf league, and we played golf together every week for a number of years. George was a tremendously competitive man both on the golf course and in his professional life. He was a devout Christian with tremendous integrity.

   One day, as we were playing golf, I was briefing him on a significant issue we were facing, and he was asking particular questions to develop his understanding of the facts and what our responses had been to that point. As we were riding between shots, he suddenly said, “You need to make sure you have a blend of W.C. Fields and the Boy Scout Motto.” I was stunned and asked him what he meant. He replied, “The more experience you gain and the more challenges you have, you must always remain optimistic and, at the same time, always be prepared. Now, I’m going to make this putt, and if I don’t, you’re my back up plan.”

   I worked for George for about ten years, and we were partners the whole time. I never saw him compromise his integrity or violate his rule. He was always prepared and, as a result, always optimistic.

   As we work our way through the challenge/s that face us, may we optimistically claim, “This too shall pass,” as we wash our hands, maintain the discipline of social distancing, and continue to be prepared.

   A healthy perspective in life is always about hopeful optimism and being prepared.

Brother Mike Densmore

Embrace “The Holy” and Maintain Social Distances

 These are certainly challenging times as we live with warnings and cautions that restrict our liberties in this “Land of the free and Home of the Brave.” We are called, I believe, to a high standard of sacrificial living that compels us to suspend our liberties for the greater good of our neighbors and ourselves. Is this not what liberty has always required. Throughout history, the patriots of our societies have marched into battles, sacrificed lives and careers, and many paid the ultimate price ensuring the blessings of liberty for our time and place. As we are being called to the disciplines of social distancing and protective hygiene, may we find ways to become closer in holy ways. Prayer, reading the scriptures and devotions are ways I have always found helpful especially when I could share thoughts with loved ones and friends. Another way has been to read and reflect on some of the great hymns of the faith.

     Some of you have heard me tell the story of changing my favorite hymn from “1. My Faith Looks Up to Thee” to “2. Love Divine All Loves Excelling.” This happened as I was reflecting on the last verses of these great hymns and “My Faith Looks Up to Thee” had been my favorite for decades. Then, I compared the last verses:

• 1. “When ends life’s transient dream, when death’s cold, sullen stream shall o’er me roll; blest Savior, then in love, fear and distrust remove; O bear me safe above, a ransomed soul.”

• 2. “Finish, then, thy new creation; pure and spotless let us be. Let us see thy great salvation perfectly restored in thee; changed from glory into glory, till in heaven we take our place, till we cast our crowns before thee, lost in wonder, love, and praise.”

     As I wrestled with these two texts in the presence of “The Holy,” it seemed the first was more about me and ensuring my ticket for heaven and the second was more about surrender. Since then, I have been convicted many times by looking in the mirror and realizing I put a crown back on many days.

     How can you embrace “The Holy” and maintain social distances? Perhaps another old hymn might help: “Precious Lord, take my hand, lead me on, let me stand, I am tired, I am weak, I am worn; through the storm, through the night, lead me on to the light: Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home.”

                            Embrace the Holy who has already embraced you.   Blessings, Mike  

Louise and Ivory Soap

When I was a little boy, my Mom and Dad hired a lady named Louise to take care of me until they got home from work. Louise was a kind, loving lady who watched over us, cooked our meals, and gave us our baths. She was a stickler about cleanliness, and when we were dragging around in attempts to extend our playtime and delay our baths, she would always quote, “Cleanliness is next to Godliness,” summing up the whole 15th chapter of Leviticus in one clear sentence.

   We learned quickly to scrub until we were sure we were spotless. Failure to do so put the soap and the rag in the hands of Louise who would begin her “scrubbing” with, “Come back over here. Ain’t no little boys of mine going to have dirt behind their ears.” We learned a lot from Louise including wash your hands, say please and thank you, take turns, and how to play mumble-peg. The thing we most remember is the ivory soap floating in the tub, knowing if we did not use it well, Louise would.

   In our world today, we need more like Louise, making sure we are scrubbing ourselves clean not simply for our own good but for the good of those around us.

   Several years ago, Patsy-Coe and I went back to Goodwater one Christmas and found Louise. I was glad to see her, and she was delighted to see me. She had even more stories to tell than I did. We visited and departed in a spirit of joy and thanksgiving. I never saw Louise again but, until this day, I remember.

“Now ya’ll make sure you scrub real good; them germs ain’t good for you.” 

          Thanks, Louise, for the scrubbings. We could all use some now.  

Blessings,

Brother Mike Densmore

Tough Dad with Tender Touch

I grew up with a Dad who was tough as nails and a hard disciplinarian. He lied about his age and joined the old CCC Camps when he was not quite fifteen years old and sent his paychecks back home to Winston County, Alabama to his blind mother. As his oldest, growing up under him was not easy. His expectations and standards were high and the consequences of noncompliance painful. Before I was ten, I could plow, cut and split firewood with an ax, use a scythe, lay tongue, and groove flooring, and many other “grown-up” tasks. I got to play sports only after the assigned duties were accomplished. It was not easy being my Dad’s son. However, it was a blessing. 

Because he had a rough time early in his life, he was determined to see that we had it better. He never ran around with the other men. He always worked all the overtime he could get, raised a huge garden, and spent all his free time with us; showing us how to do things or fishing or hunting. We kept two freezers full of home-grown vegetables and fish and game. Life was tough but, life was good. I knew my Dad cared about me. Later, I began to realize I was loved.

When I was about twelve, I remember being really sick with a high fever that would not go away and I remember my Dad coming into my room when he thought I was asleep. He put his hand on my head and prayed a simple prayer, “Lord, make my boy well.” The “Ole Man” has been gone for Sixteen years now. I’ve moved on down the road myself and, until this day, that touch is one of the most tender I’ve ever felt, and that prayer is forever in my heart. My Dad was a tough Dad with a tender touch.

Psalm 46 Says, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in time of need. Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth should change and though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea.”

My Dad always referred to God as “The Man Upstairs” and, anytime he had a problem, he would say, “I need to have a talk with The Man Upstairs,” and he always advised us to do the same. 

As I write this, our world is in a time of crisis; fighting an enemy we cannot see. Life’s toughest battles are in times such as this; so many challenges, so many unknowns, so much fear. These things call us to cling to that which we do know and understand. Behold the truth! We have a tough God with a tender touch who can deliver us from the things of this world.

 “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in time of need.”

Blessings, Mike.                                

Who Is It?

Her name was Ginger, and I loved her deeply. I know I was young and probably didn’t understand, but it was more than “puppy love.” I knew it, and she did too. I’d find a way to get away with her and share my hopes and dreams, my doubts and fears, and she was among one of the best listeners I’ve ever known. We would walk in the woods and sit by the creek almost every day. Any time I was down, she lifted my spirits. When I would cry, she licked my tears. When I needed a confidant, she was all ears. She loved me and was always there when I needed her. We all need someone with whom we can discuss the deeper things of life. Who is that someone with whom you can really be vulnerable and honest. THINK ABOUT IT!

Ginger has been gone for a long time and, today, her name is Patsy-Coe, a blessing from God to me. By the way, she doesn’t get tired when I tell Ginger stories; she loves Cocker Spaniels too.

Mike