memories

Arrested (Sort of) at 12

/ Bill Jones / Leave a comment
Brannen Oaks closeup

Brannen Oaks Closeup

I got arrested (sort of) when I was twelve years old. That summer my cousin, Lewis, and I spent a lot of time driving his go-kart on a dirt road near his house. One day a teenager rode by on a motorcycle and stopped to talk. Just for fun, he and I decided to have a drag race.

I stopped fifty feet into the race because the motorcycle literally left me in the dust. I was   surprised when I turned around and saw a police car’s flashing lights. The policeman lived on that road and had been sitting in his patrol car in his driveway talking with his wife for the last hour while we rode up and down the road in front of him. Our five second “race” had apparently interested him enough to leave the driveway and join us.

He “arrested” me, loaded me in the back seat of the squad car and told the motorcyclist to follow. At the police station, he took my fingerprints and “booked” me for drag racing on a city street. The motorcyclist never showed. When I called my father to ask him to pick me up at the      police station he laughed, until I assured him it was no joke.

The officer told my father the motorcyclist was his real target (“a licensed driver who should have known better”) but he also wanted to teach me a lesson so, thankfully, no real charges were made. He thought we were “daring him to do something.”

The officer was successful in teaching me a lesson, but probably not the one he planned. As I rode home in silence with my father, and since this was my first encounter with a policeman, I was sitting there thinking that police officers are apparently stupid jerks. He told his “real target” to     follow him to the station, so, the motorcyclist went the other way when given the chance – well, duh. And, I can say “daring” him never crossed my mind since he had been sitting there watching us and never said a word.

Thankfully, since then I have learned great respect for police officers and what they do. And, concerning that particular officer, stories around town and his short career in law enforcement revealed that he apparently was a stupid jerk.

I still shake my head in disbelief when I recall the incident. I’m sure it was and still is against the law to “drag race” on a city street. But all he had to do was get out of his car, tell his wife “excuse me a minute”, walk the 50 feet to where I was sitting on the go-kart and tell me not to do that because it’s illegal. Simple and done – while some 12-year-old grumbling under my breath may have come, no more drag racing would have happened.

So, what’s to learn from the story? One thing is, no matter how slow your vehicle moves, don’t race on a street, especially if there’s a police car sitting there. The other is to consider the phrase that comes to my mind a lot these days – From Ephesians 4:15 – “But speaking the truth in love…”

While the phrase has a much broader context in our following and teaching the Word of God in every situation, it often comes to mind regarding disagreements or the need for correction. And these days there are a multitude of contentious disagreements and much need for correction. But, in those situations, if our unloving focus is that we need to “teach them a lesson”, instead of being a witness for Jesus Christ, we’ll come across as just another stupid jerk.

The Old Paths of God

/ Bill Jones / 4 Comments
Inman Creek Primitive Baptist Baptist Church

Inman Creek Primitive Baptist Church

I worked on an engineering project at the Georgia State Prison near Reidsville, GA, last week, and took a few minutes at lunch to find Inman Creek Church. The church, two rut road, and the surrounding piney woods look much like they did fifty years ago. The only difference I saw was the vinyl siding that had covered the faded pine boards that were there back then.

In the 1960’s (when I was a relatively young lad), my father, mother and I would travel the distance to attend the annual Inman Creek Homecoming. We made the trip because my grandfather on my Father’s side, Elder Mallie Jones, Sr.,  preached at Inman Creek for many years. His time there was before I was born, and all the trips I remember were after he passed away, yet, we kept the tradition alive to honor him.

I remember the strange feeling as we passed the prison on the way to the church. The prison was a large group of buildings (many of them large, too)  surrounded by a tall barbed wire fence out in the middle of nowhere. The prison operated, and still operates, a huge farm, raising crops, cattle, hogs and operating a dairy. So, it was quite a serene, pastoral sight when you could no longer see the prison. I couldn’t really comprehend what it meant to be in prison, but thought it didn’t look like a good thing.

Homecoming was around Easter because I remember Easter Egg hunts. One particular time involved the yellow of a boiled egg. In fact, it happened on one of those road ruts you see in the photo. Being a young boy, I didn’t like the yellow of boiled eggs. I had enjoyed the white part of one and didn’t want to eat the little yellow ball inside, so I pretended to accidentally drop it on the ground (oops!). I kicked it over to the side of the road and looked up to see a little girl watching me. I shrugged my shoulders at her, and she ran over and told her mother that boy threw an egg on the ground and was kicking it around. Thankfully, her mother didn’t think it was a great crime, so the girl’s mother turned and ignored me.

However, my favorite memory is of Brother Dewey Anderson. In my mind, I can still see his broad smile and hear his infectious laugh as he greeted people. You knew he truly was happy to see you and wasn’t just making a show. He led the singing and the joy of the Lord was evident in his continued smile and exuberance with each note. He was an expert in seeing a need and finding out how he could help. (I found out on this trip that they have named the road in front of the church “Dewey Anderson Road””. Quite fitting, I think.)

I titled this post “The Old Paths of God”. The ruts of the drive into the church are some of those old paths, where people began driving mules and wagons to Inman Creek Church in the 1800’s. But, Brother Dewey is the true example of following God’s Old Paths, with his love for God and his love for people, he put that love into action.

“Thus saith the Lord, Stand ye in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls.” Jeremiah 6:16 King James Version.

PS: A bit of personal history – I referred above to this preaching grandfather as being on my Father’s side, because my grandfather on my Mother’s side also was a preacher – Elder V Y Spivey, Sr. Perhaps more on him someday too.

Shoutin’ “Whoooaaa” Before We Hit the Ground

/ Bill Jones / 28 Comments
Dirt road through the |]], near

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This is part of the Christianwriters.com blog chain. This month’s theme is memory, and here’s one of mine. Check out my friend’s blogs on their day from the list on the right.

My uncle’s old pickup bounced noisily along the dirt lane leading to his farm. My cousins and I sat on the tailgate and dangled our feet inches from the ground. We slumped against each other, exhausted from a day in the fields. But, the freedom of the open truck bed and the breeze from the movement began to revive us. Soon we were shouting over the truck noise and laughing as each pretended their intent to push another off the tailgate.

When the truck hit a bump, the sagging suspension allowed our feet to scrape the dirt. After a few times, we made a game of it. We inched closer to the edge and stretched our legs to see who could let their feet slide the longest.

It became precarious when we hit two bumps in a row. The first would cause us to stretch out and the second would bounce us quickly again, moving us closer to the edge.

I looked down and watched the dirt and grass between the ruts move steadily by. We weren’t going fast so it wasn’t zipping by – just a steady pace. I reasoned that if I was bounced off at that speed, I could just keep my legs moving and stand up.

At the next pair of bumps I got to try my theory out. As we hit the first one, we all stretched out, giggling at what by now we understood to be danger. The second bump was more of a hole. The tires went deep and then quickly up to the top, sending the truck’s rear end into the air. With that, my rear end bounced off the tailgate and when it came down, I was too near the edge to stop. I scrambled for a handhold but found none.

I whooped out a long “Whooooaaaa!” as I sailed off the truck, and flailed my feet in hopes of remaining upright. But, my theory had at least one fatal flaw. I had not considered the direction I was facing. If a mishap occurred, I would come off the truck backward. No matter how good you are, you can’t run backward as fast as forward.

That was proven as my feet hit the ground. Rather than showing any semblance of uprightness, my back and then my head followed quickly onto the dirt. I slid awhile, came to a stop and lay there in the middle of the road.

By then my cousins’ shouts had alerted my uncle to stop, and they jumped out of the truck and dashed back to see if I was hurt. The slide had torn my shirt and scraped my back – but thankfully, there were no broken bones and nothing more serious than a nice goose-egg from the head banging.

I thought I had it figured out. I knew I was on the edge but kept inching closer. Surely, my plan would take me through. If I was bounced, or pulled, or pushed over the line, I could easily use my own strength to keep straight. But, as I lay in the road staring up at the sky, it was clear my own strength had been useless – either to prevent me from falling as I kept tempting danger, or to hold me up once the boundary had been crossed.

It’s not unusual for us humans to think we’re stronger or smarter or quicker than we really are. Sadly, it’s also not unusual for us believers to walk close to the edge of temptation, relying on our own strength.

We read of Samson and Delilah in the Book of Judges. Each time she asked how he could be defeated, he became more arrogant in his answers. Finally, he told her cutting his hair was the secret.

That night Delilah had someone shave Samson’s head while he slept, and then she cried out the Philistines were there. He jumped up, ready to defeat them as before, but found he had no strength. His hair had been cut, but the real problem was that God had left him – and Samson didn’t even know it. He had toyed with temptation and eventually crossed the line. Samson quickly found that without God, his own strength was useless.

“Do not enter the path of the wicked, and do not walk in the way of the evil. Avoid it; do not go on it; turn away from it and pass on.” (Pro. 4:14-15 ESV). God knows our tendency to think we can handle temptation on our own, and He knows that we will fail if we try. His Word has many verses like these, that warn us with verbs like “avoid”, “turn away”, “depart” and the one that expresses it most dramatically – “flee!”.

We shouldn’t be walking close to the edge – we should be running the other way, because our strength will not keep us from being bounced, pushed or pulled over the line where temptation gives way to sin.

But, thankfully, God has not left us to our own strength. The Bible also has many verses that promise He will be our strength. If we take the warnings to heart and trust in His promises and His power, we won’t find ourselves whooping out a “Whooooaaaa!”, flailing our feet and hoping to stay out of the dirt on our own.

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10 ESV)