Over the many years that I have been in ministry, I have had some interesting experiences and met some interesting people. This experience took place while I was in my mid twenties and is one that I will never forget.

“Brother Bud,” the voice said, on the other end of the phone, “We would like for you to come to (City and State will remain unnamed for my protection) our church to do a five night Youth Revival.” I agreed and the dates were set. I really did not enjoy leaving my wife and baby for so long but that was the nature of the ministry.

The day came for me to leave so I kissed my wife and baby, got into my little Oldsmobile Firenza, and headed out. After several hours of driving, I finally arrived at the church where I was supposed to meet the pastor. The church was, situated in the middle of a farm with the access road in front and electric fences along the sides and back. I pulled into the church parking lot and got out of my car. As I walked around taking in the sights, sounds, and aroma of the surrounding farms, I heard someone yell my name. It was the pastor yelling from the house across the road. I waved to acknowledge that I had heard him and started walking his way.

He greeted me and invited me into the house. His wife, a nice woman, showed me to the room that would be my home for the next week. The pastor told me to take my luggage to my room, freshen-up and meet him in the kitchen in thirty minutes. I did as he had requested and met him back in the kitchen in 30 minutes.

We sat at the table and talked. He shared with me what the next few days would look like. It did not take me long to figure out that I was not going to like this man… AT ALL! I don’t think I was really invited there for the purpose of a Youth Revival. I think he saw an opportunity to get all his farm work done and have the church pay for it under the disguise of a Youth Revival. Not to mention, he was one of the most obnoxious, controlling, manipulative and just plain mean men I had ever met.

Don’t get me wrong, I like hard work and I even enjoy cleaning barns but I don’t like being manipulated. I had not packed the right clothes for farm work either. I had three pairs of jeans, five shirts, a sport coat, three ties, a pair of cool cowboy boots and of course socks and underwear. I don’t wear cowboy boots anymore but I did then and they were not made for tromping around in cow manure. They were white and gray with a funky texture and design. I think Kenny Rogers had a pair just like them and I will bet he didn’t wear them to shovel cow poop.

When that pastor finished informing me of what the week was going to look like, I retired to my room and spent half the night plotting my escape. I thought about sneaking out the window from my room and heading home but I imagined the headlines in his hometown newspaper…”Youth Evangelist Afraid of Cow Poop Runs Home to Mommy.” Nip that idea! I decided that I had better pray because it was going to take some Divine help to get through this. I finally fell asleep praying at around three in the morning.

“It’s time to get out of bed, you have a lot of work to do today,” said the loud, obnoxious, voice only two hours after I had finally fallen asleep. I got up, dressed, had breakfast, and headed for the barn. I worked in the barn and cut weeds all day. Finally, that afternoon he told me that I didn’t want to go to church smelling like that, so I had better go take a shower and get dressed for church. After spending thirty minutes cleaning my really cool cowboy boots, I headed for the shower.

After showering and getting dressed for church, I walked to the living room to prepare my talk for the service that evening. I prayed, “Lord, I really need some spiritual help here. I do not like the pastor and I doubt you do either Lord, but here we are. If it were not for all of the kids I will be talking to tonight, I would leave, but they need to know about you and I am here to tell them.”

After finishing my prayer, the pastor popped through the door, stared at me and said, “You ready for church?” I said, “Yes sir.” He stared at me for what felt like eternity and said, “No your not!” His voiced picked up volume and he said, “You might get by with preaching in jeans where you’re from but it ain’t gonna happen in my church!” I said, “You obnoxious, controlling, manipulative man, Jesus is more concerned with your sorry attitude than with what I’m wearing.” Of course, I only said it in my mind, while my mouth said, “But…it’s all I have!”

With two hours before the youth service was to start, I was out looking for a Wal-Mart. I found one and bought the cheapest pair of, non-denim (I guess the devil invented denim) pants I could find and headed back to the house.

I wore that one pair of pants the entire week. While in my pants, I learned something. There are circumstances in life that are out of our control. Dealing with difficult situations and mean people are part of life for earth dwellers. There are people and circumstances in life that we cannot control but we can control our attitude. After the first day, I chose to change my bad attitude and enjoy the adventure. To be honest, I actually ended up enjoying most of the week, especially the day I let the cow out of the barn. I spent half that day chasing it around, trying to herd it back into the barn. I did not know those cowboy boots could run so fast.

During the week, I learned that the pastor had an illness and was not doing well. I understood him a little better after that. I met some beautiful people that week and had the opportunity to tell a group of teenagers that Jesus loves them. Had I caved to my negative emotions, I would have never enjoyed that experience.

I want to encourage you today if you are dealing with circumstances or people that are out of your control. A little attitude adjustment may be all you can do but it is all you need to do. You may feel like life has pooped on you but make the best of it. Now, go out there and enjoy life to the fullest. Life is short…seize the day!

Fishing has always been something the Beverly’s enjoy doing for recreation and preparing to go is a special part of the experience. My son, Joshua, and I usually drag out our fishing gear the night before we go. We make sure the reels have adequate line on them and the tackle box is stocked well with lures, hooks, and sinkers, needed for a successful fishing experience. It is not unusual to find that after one of our tackle box inspections, something was left out. It can be really bad if that something has a hook attached to it. Fish hooks can be dangerous when they are stuck in something other than the jaw of a fish.

Joshua and I had enjoyed a good day of father and son fishing, and headed home. As we pulled into the driveway, my daughter Nikki came running out the front door. As she ran toward us, I wondered why she was so anxious to see our big catch. It only took a minute to realize that her anxiousness had nothing to do with what we had hooked on the trip, and everything to do with what the lure we left on the couch had hooked.

Nikki said, “Kayla has a fishhook stuck in her!”  I said, “What?” I heard her the first time but I was buying some time to let the words engage my brain. ”Kayla has a fishhook in her!” That time she said it with a little extra volume. I have always been the cool, calm, and collect one in these type situations so I braced myself for what I was about to see.

As I entered the living room, I could not believe my eyes. My middle child, Kayla, had a bass lure hooked in her rearend. It was a large lure with very large treble hooks, one of which was in her butt cheek and the other was in a couch cushion. I had never hooked a fish as deep as she was hooked. Joshua and I were glad to know that the lure we thought we had lost was not lost at all, but we did not say that out loud. “Joshua, we hooked a good one!” was another thing I didn’t say out loud. It just didn’t seem to be the proper time.

Evidently, we lost the lure in the couch and Kayla found it when she sat down. I felt so sorry for her but she was taking it like a trooper. It was bad enough that she had the lure hooked in her butt, but having that cushion hooked to the other end of the lure made it even worse. I took a knife and cut a hole in the cushion to free it, but Kayla dared me to cut a hole anywhere else to free the other hook. We walked her to the car and helped her lay on her belly in the back seat. Now, it’s off to the emergency room!

In the emergency room, Kayla’s fame spread rapidly. It isn’t every day that they see a teenage girl walk in with a fish hook hanging off her rear. One doctor walked in and said, “Well it’s the catch of the day!” Another one said, “It’s the one that didn’t get away!” The entire emergency room was entertained by the girl with the hook in her butt. When it came time to cut it out, four doctors gathered to watch one doctor do the work. I would say that it made for an interesting conversation at the dinner table for a lot of people that day.

Through the entire ordeal, Kayla maintained a great attitude. She brought smiles to the faces of doctors, nurses, and patients. Kayla wasn’t the only one hooked that day. Her sweet spirit hooked the hearts of everybody in the emergency room. Bad things happen to us sometimes and at times it may because of the carelessness of others but the attitude we choose will affect how we get through it and how others view it.

When a circumstance of life offers you a “Pain in the Butt,” throw a great attitude at it!

Everybody needs a day off now and then. That is what my brother-in-law, Greg, and I told ourselves, as we contemplated a day of fishing on the river. We both love to fish but neither of us had anything more than a fishing pole each. To float the river, we were going to need some things that neither of us owned, most importantly, a boat. I told him that I knew people. People with the kinds of things that we were going to need. I went to work borrowing a boat, motor, minnow bucket, tackle box, and a couple extra fishing poles.

The day came for us to launch out into a day of relaxation on the river, doing what men love to do: Escape responsibility while indulging our desire for complete selfishness. We were going fishing! We unloaded the little boat from the back of my little truck. I’m still not sure why it never dawned on two good size men, that a boat that would fit in the bed of a Ford Ranger might not be big enough, but it didn’t.

We put the boat in the water and began to load it with the necessities. We put the car battery that would power the trolling motor in first, and then the motor. Next, we loaded our tackle, minnow buckets, and fishing poles. Last, but not least, we loaded the cooler. Two men don’t face a raging river without a cooler full of food and drinks. You have to plan for the possibility of being stranded somewhere, and if you do, you need plenty food and drinks! I learned that from Gilligan’s Island and what they packed for a three hour tour. We were going for an entire day!

We finally had the boat loaded and were ready to board.  I noticed the top of the boat was closer to the water level than it should have been, but it didn’t register alarm, and it should have! Since I borrowed the boat and motor, I would be captain of our little ship. We pushed off, powered that little motor, and out into the middle of the river we went. By the looks of things, I think we must have exceeded the weight limit of that little boat by at least two hundred pounds, but I assured Greg that I had it all under control.

We spotted a place that looked like good fishing, just below some swift waters. I guided the boat to the spot and told Greg to drop anchor. Oh yea, I forgot to mention that we had an anchor in the boat too. As a good shipmate, Greg followed my instruction and dropped anchor. At that moment, all of the little warning signs that we had ignored, started getting bigger. We had anchored too close to the swift waters for our little overloaded boat. It was barely an inch above the water and the swift water was pushing the back of the boat down. The only hope was to pull up the anchor, but it was hung on a rock.

I felt a great sense of distress as the captain of the little ship. I had to do something to save the passenger. “So this is how the captain of the Titanic felt,” I thought. I wasn’t ready to give up yet, so I decided to push that little motor for all it was worth and guide the boat above the area where the anchor was stuck. If I could do that, the anchor would release and we would be free. As you probably already know, the anchor has a rope attached to it and the rope is tied to the boat. As I maneuvered the boat, Greg took the rope into his hands and was trying to free the anchor. I realized we were not making progress, so I decided to guide the boat to the opposite side. We had one minor problem. I forgot to inform Greg of the maneuver I was about to attempt. The rope came across Greg and in his attempt to keep from being knocked out of the boat, he leaned to one side. Considering we were only an inch away from taking in water already, leaning was not the thing to do.

Under the circumstances, Greg had no choice but to lean. It was lean or be taken out by the rope and either way, we were going to capsize. The boat flipped upside down and dumped all its contents into the river, including us. Everything was at the bottom of the river, everything but the boat and us and I was trying to save the boat. Of course the anchor had decided to release now that we were capsized, which made hanging on to the it a little more difficult.

As I stood there in four feet deep water hanging on to the boat, I looked over at Greg and he was in total panic mode. He thought he was drowning. His arms were slamming and splashing as if he were trying to grab hold of something to save himself but nothing was there. He would yell, “Help” and then his head would go under the water. That process repeated itself a couple times as I stood and watched. By this time I was laughing so hard I peed in my pants but it didn’t matter since the water was above my waste. I yelled at him and said, “Greg, stand up and put your feet on the bottom.” When I got his attention, he stood up and realized, he wasn’t going to drown in four feet of water.

We walked to the bank of the river, pulling the boat with us. It was the only thing left after everything else was either on the bottom of the river or floating down the river…far… far away. We climbed out of the water and began our long, humbling, walk to civilization through the cow pastures. I can only imagine what must have gone through the woman’s mind when I tried to explain why we needed to borrow her phone.

That happened many years ago, but I did learn something important. There is a purpose in all of those little warnings that we tend to ignore sometimes. They come to us in all areas of life. Don’t ignore them. They may keep you from capsizing. If your life capsizes, it can take those you love down with you. Stay aware and enjoy the trip!

The funniest things happen in church. In my early twenties, I loaded up my little family and headed off to pastor my first church. I didn’t really know what I was doing but felt confident I would figure it out in time, with God’s help. I was young and green in the ministry, so I thought it would be a good idea to talk with the former pastor to get some pointers. He shared with me that some of the oddest people can be found in church. That wasn’t exactly the way he said it but that is my interpretation. He shared with me some things to watch in the coming days.

“Watch out for people who fly in the Spirit,” he told me. Those words alone had me wanting to run back to Wise. I looked at him and said, “What in the world is flying in the Spirit?” He chuckled, barely (dry humor), and then said, “Let me tell you a story.”

He told me that right in the middle of a service one Sunday morning, a man walked up to him and said, “Brother Pastor, Jist Wonted ye ta know thet I cane fly in the Spirit!” Of course that pastor was caught of guard. “You can what?” “I cane fly in the Spirit, when the Spirit hits me!” the man said, energetically.  “I fell it comin own me raght now,” he said. In an instant, the man turned and walked to the back of the church, turned around and started running toward the front of the church, and leaped into the air. How do you stop a big man who is five feet in the air? You don’t! He said that the man did a forward summersault and when his feet came down, they landed on the edge of the steps that led onto the stage. This caused his legs to react as if they were spring loaded and off balance. He went flying backwards and slammed into the front row of seats. A little old lady was sitting there on the front row where she had been sitting for probably a hundred years. That big man slammed into her, knocking her to the floor. While lying in the floor, she looked up at the pastror and said, “Pastor, that flying man just killed me dead!” That pastor told me that he just stood there, hoping he was dreaming. When he came to himself, he helped the little old lady up and back into her seat. The little old lady looked up at the pastor and said, “You know, I think he needs more practice at that flying in the Spirit stuff.” The pastor dismissed the service early that day, realizing nothing he could say would make a differernce after that.

Can you imagine what it would have been like to be there that Sunday morning? Me neither! I am glad to say that the flying man never came to that church while I was there. I did learn one thing though. I understand why nobody likes to sit in the front row at church.

I talked to a friend the other day that I hadn’t talked to in a while. She called to share with me how things were going in her life now. The last time I had talked to her she wasn’t doing so well. If you had opened up the baggage of her life you would have found some really difficult circumstances. Dealing with the difficulties of life can take it’s toll after a while and it did for her. The things she had been taught in church were not working. None of the religious rituals brought fulfillment, hope or peace (and they never will). She found herself dealing with the pain of life by numbing it with pain killers. The problem with that is, pain killers cannot take away the emotional pain of life. No matter what you take or how many, the very thing that drove you to them is still there. Her life had spiraled to the bottom where you wonder how you got there and if there is any way out.

I am glad to tell you that she found the way out. As we talked on the phone, she shared that she was finally free and loving life! Her voice was full of life instead of dispair and her words were full of hope rather than hopelessness. She shared that she had found a real relationship with Jesus and was learning that there was a greater purpose for her life. It was such a joy to find that she had truly found what Jesus wants everyone to have. She found that it is not a religion that Jesus wants you to embrace but a relationship with Him. She had to get away from church to find it but she did and now she can return with hopes of helping others find what she has found.

You will not hear very many pastors say what I am about to say but thats okay with me. Some people will have to abandon the church that they are in to ever truly find Jesus. I know that sounds wierd but it is true. Many people leave church in bondage to legalism.  Whether that is what is being taught or just the perception of what is being taught, the result is the same. Jesus didn’t come to put us in bondage but to set us free from its grip. He wants to heal your broken heart and fill it full of life. His life! He wants to take away the guilt from sin and replace it with the joy of forgiveness. He wants to fill your heart with His love and walk with you every day. That is what my friend found and I am so glad she did!

Jesus Crazy Loves You!

I met a young man while waiting to have tires put on my wife’s car. His name was Mike. I noticed Mike right away. I am, fascinated by people of all shapes, sizes and colors. I am usually very aware of the people around me but Mike stood out from the crowd. Mike was the youngest person in the waiting area but that was not the only thing that made him stand out. He looked like it had been weeks since his ragged clothes were washed, hair and teeth brushed, and since he had bathed. He had more steel in his ears than his car had in its frame.

Now in some places Mike would not have stood out at all but in the middle of a group of forty and fifty something, family guys, he was easily noticed. I spoke to him and then went outside. A few minutes later, Mike came out for a smoke and we struck up a conversation. I was eager to talk with Mike. I had a feeling he had an interesting story and by his accent, I knew it would involve more than east Tennessee.

Mike grew up in Boston and had a heavy Bostonian accent. His accent mixed with an abundance of four letter words, especially the one that begins with F, made for an interesting conversation. Mike moved from Boston to Florida and then from Florida to Kingsport and was getting ready to go back to Florida. I found out that he was a musician and he played the Blues. It, obviously, had been a difficult life for a twenty three year old but I was impressed with his tenacity and durability. He was a bright young man and he seemed to be able to talk intelligently about many things, so I pretended I could too.

There was one thing that I was very interested in getting his thoughts on and eventually I led the conversation there. I asked Mike what he thought about Jesus. He immediately began to tell me that he grew up in the Catholic Church and that his grandmother was protestant. He shared that he did not care much for religion. I told him that I didn’t either. He shared how hypocritical and judgmental Christians bothered him. I told him they did me too.

I could see Mike was having the same problem many others have and that is separating the person of Jesus from church and religion. It is sad but many people are stuck there. It breaks my heart that some people do not personally experience the love and grace that Jesus has to offer because they can’t get beyond the way they see “Christians.”

I shared with Mike that he is “Crazy Loved” by God. Mike was not blind to his sin and readily admitted it. I shared that it was because of our sin that Jesus came, died to pay for our sin and rose from the dead to give us life. I do not know what Mike will do with what we talked about but I am praying that he will eventually get his mind off judgmental Christians, stop equating Jesus with religious performance and open his heart to the One that gave all to give us life, eternal. Maybe one day Mike will find a real relationship with the Lover of his soul. I pray so!

Livin Large and Lovin Life,

Bud

PS. Don’t forget to be aware of the person or people that God may put in your path today to share His love with.

One of my most memorable experiences as a child was one that involved my mamaw and my pony, Mingo. Mingo had a tendency to be stubborn at times and downright cantankerous. She bucked me off more than once during our time together but I loved riding her on her good days. When I was riding, I felt like Little Joe Cartwright on my favorite western, Bonanza. Mingo looked like a very small version of his horse and I looked like a very small version of him.

One day, after chasing the cow rustlers off the Ranch, it was time to take Mingo back to the barn. Wouldn’t you know that this would be one of her stubborn days? She just stood there refusing to move. I told my mamaw that I couldn’t get Mingo to go to the barn. You see, mamaw knew a little something about everything. She knew how to stop-up mouse holes, build fences, and could fix anything with stuff most people never thought of. She was like a granny MacGyver but never blew anything up as far as I know, so getting a stubborn pony moving should be no problem for her.

Mamaw walked over and began to break a limb off of a little sapling, which would become a switch with a little expertise and I knew what switches were for. I think mamaw did that with my mom when she was stubborn and she turned out good, so I felt confident it would work on a stubborn pony. She brought that switch back and gave Mingo a light whack on the fanny. Mingo made her, “I might look like a pony but I’m really a horse on the inside” sound, lunged forward a bit and then just stood there.

Now, if you had known my mamaw, you would know that she could be stubborn too. Here I am, this little, Little Joe Cartwright, stuck in a battle between two stubborn females, neither of which had any intention of losing this standoff. I’m thinking it must have been high noon. Mamaw reared back with that switch and whacked Mingo on the fanny and yelled “Getty-up!” Mingo realized she had met her match but had no intention of doing things mamaws way. She started to buck and took off like a streak of lightening…the wrong way. When she bucked, I lost balance and began to slide and before you know it, I was barely hanging on sideways. I had seen Little Joe ride side-saddle but it looked better when he did it. As Mingo continued to run and buck, I completely lost my grip and ended up sliding to the ground under her. The last thing I saw were her back hooves above my head and everything went black. No, I didn’t get kicked or even knocked out. Everything went black because I closed my eyes. If I was going to get kicked, I didn’t want to see it.

When I opened my eyes, mamaw was looking at me and asked me if I was alright. She looked heart- broken, as if she felt responsible for my near death experience. She helped me up and hand-in-hand we walked until we found Mingo tangled in her bridle in the neighbor’s yard.  Mamaw and I walked Mingo to the barn and headed back home. Mamaw is in heaven now but neither of us ever forgot that special adventure we experienced together.

You may feel your life is like riding a bucking horse right now and it may be scary. You may even feel like you are barely hanging on and could fall off at any time. Just remember, God has a way of taking scary moments in our life and turning them into adventurous stories that we will one day tell others as a testimony to God’s love and faithfulness. He knows how to pick up his fallen kids, dust them off, heal them up and put them back in the saddle! Enjoy the ride!

I love old houses but there is one thing about them that creeps me out. It is that deep, dark, damp thing called the cellar. They like to use them in scary movies if that tells you anything. Most of them have a narrow door and steep stairs that lead down into them. If you can make it to the bottom of the stairs without breaking your neck, you will find a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. It usually has a long string attached that you pull to turn the light on. Once the light is on, the adventure begins. On the shelves, there are jars of stuff that have been there so long they have molded over. You may find old books and magazines from days gone by. Along with old junk, you will find spiders, spider crickets and any number of weird creatures. It can be a frightening thing!

That makes me think of that deep place in our lives where most of us dare not go. It is the place in our hearts where we hide the shame and guilt of our past. Some people can go for years ignoring it but eventually the stench from the deep begins to find its way out, in spite of our efforts to keep it in the cellar of our heart. Many people never move beyond the shame and guilt and it becomes toxic. The toxins will affect every area of life when left alone. Our attitudes, actions, decisions and moods can, be affected and we may never connect the dots to the real culprit.

Sadly, we have become very adapt to living life on a superficial level, never daring to think deeper than the immediate circumstances of our lives. We have plenty of electronic gadgets these days to consume our time and assist us in avoiding the cellar. Let me encourage you to take time to visit that deep place in your heart, if you haven’t already. If you will open that little cellar door and invite Jesus to go down into that deep, dark, damp place with you, He will. Ask Him to forgive you for the attitudes and actions that caused the guilt and shame. His forgiveness and love will forever clean away the guilt and shame of your past and He will create a warm, cozy place where you can meet with Him anytime. He replaces the shame and guilt with peace, hope, joy and love. He takes away the fear of going to that deep cellar of your heart and makes it a place that you can look forward to visiting because He is there.

I can tell you from experience, Jesus can and will do it. Before I knew Jesus, I had done innumerable things worthy of guilt and shame. Those who knew me then might say that is an understatement. In tears and brokenness over my sin, I invited Jesus to that deep place in my heart and asked Him to clean it out and He did just that. Now, what was a deep, dark, damp place in my heart is a warm, cozy, den where the light never goes out.

One other thing before I go. Does this mean that I never sin? Definitely not! It does mean that when I do, the light of Jesus makes me very aware of it and His forgiveness sends it away. Guilt and shame cannot stay where the forgiveness, grace and love of Jesus is and wherever Jesus is, you will find grace, forgiveness and love. De