Memories

Get Back on the Horse?

/ Bill Jones / Leave a comment

Daniel on a pony

He was a pony working at my friend’s birthday party. I was a five year-old kid sitting on his back. Something spooked him, and off he went with the pony version of a bucking bronco. Pony version or not, it still sent me flying and put me on the ground with a thud. I cried from the terror but, thankfully, wasn’t hurt.

My father rushed over, picked me up and made sure I was OK. After a few minutes, he asked if I  wanted to give it another try. I, in effect, said “let me think about that a minute – No!”

The old adage is that if you fall off a horse, get back on quickly or you never will. I guess that’s correct  because I ignored that advice and have never gotten back on a horse. At this point, I don’t have plans to.

The other time I got personal with (but not on) one was back when my cousins kept a horse near their home. They hadn’t ridden him for a while, so he had reverted into “wild” mode. We were trying to get him back in a pen. My older cousin put me in position and told me to stay right there no matter what.

As the other cousins maneuvered around behind the horse, he took off right at me. I didn’t see any hesitation in the thousand-pound animal running my way, so I didn’t hesitate to jump out of his way. My cousin bawled me out good for not holding my ground. I appropriately hung my head in shame, while thinking “I’m sorry, but I just didn’t feel that getting your horse back in the pen was worth dying for.”

It’s not that I don’t think horses are magnificent creatures. Sharon and I once spent a memorable day touring horse farms around Lexington, Kentucky. Seeing them run and play, hearing the stories, and watching videos of the exciting come-from-behind victories of the beautiful horse standing in the stall next to us didn’t make us experts. But, it did get me to the point that I can get goosebumps watching a race just from knowing a bit about what it means to the horse. (There is no cruelty there – they live to run!)

Do I regret not getting back on that pony sixty years ago? Not really. My life has been so full of blessings and opportunities from the Lord that I can’t begin to remember them all. I don’t know how I would have worked riding horses into the mix. And, at this point, I don’t think I was supposed to.

All of that can be like the Christian life. There will be times we’ll try things in service to God and people, and we’ll get “bucked off”. We remind ourselves we can’t, and aren’t meant to, do everything. But, we also have to take more consideration than a five year old boy deciding not to get back on the pony. It could be a situation where God expects us to get back on in order to be blessed and not have regrets later on.
Galatians 6:9—”Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

That Little Warning “Bell”

/ Bill Jones / Leave a comment

odometer reading 1

My twenty-year-old Ford Ranger’s odometer reads over 471,000 miles. As would be expected, there are several things that aren’t quite “showroom floor” functional. The gear indicator on the steering column no longer matches up correctly, so if you position the pointer to “N” and plan to sit still, don’t be surprised if you start moving backwards.

The cover to the front seat console is missing. Someone threw a brick through the passenger window to look for stealable stuff years ago in an Atlanta Hotel parking lot. As they searched, instead of pushing the button and easily opening the console cover, they felt it necessary to just rip it off.

The “check engine” light came on last year and the problem was a malfunctioning emissions valve in the gas tank filler tube. Weighing the several hundred dollars it would cost to replace it versus the mechanic’s statement of “it won’t cause any problems,” it was an easy decision to leave it alone.

While the malfunctioning valve hasn’t caused problems, it does make an interesting sound. Now and then, when the engine is idling, a snuffly “whaaamff” sound comes from inside the filler tube. I can’t describe the sound exactly, but it reminds me of what a trumpeting heffalump, from the Winnie the Pooh stories, might sound like.

While the heffalump trumpet is neat, the truck has another sound that still functions, and I’ve  given a heartfelt “Thank You!” for it many times. It’s that little bell that dings when I open the door and have left the lights on. It’s reminder that I need to “think about what I’m doing” sure has saved me much trouble through the years. I don’t believe I’ve ever ignored it.

Reminds me of the warning the Holy Spirit gives us when we’re about to say or do something wrong and should really stop and think. I wish I could say I’ve never ignored that “bell”, but I can say when I have paid attention, it’s saved me much trouble through many years and miles. Much more than twenty years and 471,000 miles. That’s a lot to be thankful for.

“Quench not the Spirit” 1 Thessalonians 5:19

 

 

God’s Providence – If we notice, we see it

/ Bill Jones / Leave a comment

In the last several weeks, we’ve heard sermons about the providence of God. This article is too short  to even comment on that broad and deep subject. But, I will mention a few things I’ve thought about lately.

In the 1960’s I lived in Bel Air Estates subdivision when it was “outside” Statesboro. Georgia. Highway 80 out there was a two-lane blacktop, and most of the roads in the subdivision were dirt. There was a new house   being built down the street from where I lived, so my cousin, Lewis, and I went exploring.

While we were inside the half-built house, a car drove up so we scrambled into the attic and hid. The family building the house was checking out the progress. There was a mother, a father, a son, and a daughter. They didn’t discover us, so, after they left, we climbed down and laughed our way back to my house.

The daughter’s name was Sharon. Our 45th wedding anniversary will be July 20th.

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Mrs. Bice, the guidance counselor at Statesboro High, sent a note asking me to come to her office. When there, she asked me what I planned to do after high school. I said I guessed I would stay at home,      attend Georgia Southern, and figure out what courses to take.

She told me she thought that would be a mistake, and that I should go to Georgia Tech. I apparently had done well enough on the math part of the SAT that her advice was to take advantage of that. So, I did, and became an engineer, which is now clear to me, and Sharon, that it was my calling for a profession.

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When our son Daniel was 4, Sharon and I decided to move from Savannah to either a small town or to the “country.” We found a wonderful renovated 100 year old house in Oliver and signed a contract contingent on selling our house in Savannah. We weren’t able to sell in time, so that fell through. We continued the    process and were out exploring one day and I said I’d show her a friend’s place where I had been dove      hunting. As we drove down the dirt road, Sharon noticed an empty house. We stopped and sat there looking and talking and my friend happened to drive by and I waved him down. He took us down the road to meet the brother of the house’s owner. We’ve lived in that house in southeastern Bulloch County over thirty years now.

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Nearly twenty-five years ago, Daniel’s friend, Garrett, invited us to go to church with them and we  accepted. And now, those many years later, I’m sitting here writing an article for that church’s newsletter.


“The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.”  Proverbs 16:9

 

The Towers Crossed, It’s a New Year, And God is In His Heaven

/ Bill Jones / Leave a comment

Radio Tower

If you’ve driven Interstate 16 in Georgia between Savannah and Macon (on the way to Atlanta), you know the signs of civilization are sparse in some sections. You should have seen it forty plus years ago. Back then, it was so sparse you had to check your gauge before heading out because the gas stations were nearly non-existent.

Back then, I attended Georgia Tech in Atlanta. I drove the highway most Sunday nights because I went home every weekend I could, in order to see my future wife, Sharon. (We had already decided she was my future wife and me her future husband, we just hadn’t told anyone.) Sunday night was the sad time of the weekend, when I left her and headed back to Atlanta.

It was a lonesome drive and I spent much of the time trying to find decent radio stations to listen to for a few minutes before they faded away. But, as I neared Macon, I could always pick up WMAC—a good radio station with a strong signal that stayed with me for about an hour.

Also, as I neared Macon, (Mile Marker 9 on I-16 , measured from Macon) there were two radio towers off to the left. I watched each time, and near the spot where I passed the mile marker, the towers lined up and looked like one tower for a split second. As I continued, they would start to visually separate, and then over a hill and around a bend they were out of sight.

Although I never measured it, I took the point where they looked like one tower as the middle point of the journey. On the Savannah side I was leaving Sharon, and on the Macon side I was going to school. My thoughts would go to what paper was due or which test was coming up. But, of course, Sharon and the big picture of the two of us eventually being together remained uppermost in my mind.

It’s a new year. At midnight, New Year’s Eve, two towers in our personal journey appeared to be one for a split second, but they’re already farther apart and will continue to separate. We may or may not feel we are leaving something behind, but, now we should focus on what we need to do as we go forward. And, of course, the Lord and the big picture of us eventually being together with Him in Heaven should remain uppermost in our mind.

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away” Revelation 21:4