Tunnel Vision

Wow, its been nearly 2-weeks since I've posted on Tug's Life. Time is sure flying by fast. I really don't have the time to be sitting here blogging but I needed to take a small break from my studies. I think all of the reading I'm doing is giving me tunnel vision!

I cannot believe that my first Seminary course will be over in 11-days! I've still got 2 of Pastor Sexton's books to read and take notes on and finish up a few books in the Old Testament. I've only got 6 more assignments left in my Advanced Old Testament notebook that I have to turn in. These last 3 months have passed by in the blink of an eye. I'm not complaining mind you, because I have thoroughly enjoyed all of my studies. I can't even begin to tell you how much it has helped in my ministry. I am so thankful that God has allowed me to take these classes!

I'm also trying to make myself memorize Scripture. I have never been very good at it. Probably because I haven't been disciplined enough to do it. I wish I had learned it when I was young. Things are so much easier to remember when you are just a kid. I have been pulling out Scripture that is important to me and repeating them over and over. On my drive to work while I'm listening to Dr. Stephen Davey on BBN radio, I am constantly quoting Scripture out loud in the car. I am now starting a new method of Scripture memorization though. It is taught by Bro. Greg Locke., pastor at Global Vision Baptist church in Mount Juliet, TN. He is one of my very favorite preachers in the world to listen to. I have every sermon of his that I can find loaded on my MP3 player. I listen to them over and over. Anyways, he has a video that he produced where he gives a method to memorize Scripture. You can watch the video or listen to the audio here: https://www.sermonaudio.com/sermoninfo.asp?SID=626081244250 Bro. Locke's ability to quote Scripture is amazing! I told my children the other night that I would give up all of my other talents to be able to quote Scripture like he can. I'll let you know how it goes for me.

The Lord has really been opening doors for me lately. I was blessed to preach at Emory Pike American Christian church last Sunday ( I blogged about it on my Bro. Byron site tonight). Pastor Dave has also been giving me plenty of opportunities on Wednesday nights to preach at Highland. I brought a message last night based on the 23rd Psalm and the parable of the lost sheep. I left out so many things that I had planned to say, but I reckon I said everything that God wanted me to.

Pastor Dave mentioned last night that he would like for me to preach on the last Sunday morning of this month. I really appreciate my pastor and the way he shares the pulpit with other preachers. Some pastors are so afraid for their jobs or so stingy that they won't ever allow anyone else the opportunity to preach. Not Pastor Dave, he is very gracious and helpful. I thank God for placing him in my life. He is a real blessing and inspiration to me. He has been so good for my children too. They remember every sermon that he preaches. They are all the time quoting him and talking about things that he has said from behind the pulpit. My oldest daughter even has one of his sermons on her Mp3 player and she talks about it all the time. It was one that he brought when he first came to Highland, titled, "What Is A Crisis?" I used to have it uploaded on a sermon site but that site went out of business and I lost it. I need to re-upload it and post it to Highland's Sermon page.

Well, I reckon I need to get back to studying. Just thought I'd catch everyone up on how things are going right now. I'll post some more later on.

Read more...

Time well spent

I’m up early again this morning. It is July 3, 2009, around 6:30 AM. We had a wonderful and long day yesterday and I’m looking forward to another one today. So far it has been great. I’m outside on my bench sipping coffee from my favorite cup and listening to the sounds of God’s creation. There hasn’t been any cars running around this morning to disrupt things, only birds of various kinds are penetrating the quietness.

I woke up this morning thinking about my family and how blessed I am. I was listening to a sermon the other day, I think it was Erwin Lutzer from Moody Church but I might be mistaken, and he was stressing the point of how it's not the gifts, but it is the time spent with your children that they remember and value the most. I thought of that several times yesterday as my family and I were driving around upper East, TN and parts of Kentucky. It brought back memories of when I was a child and my parents would take us on trips like that. We didn’t have a bunch of money to spend on things like theme parks or shopping, but we managed to put gas in the car and drive around. Yesterday we were like that. We didn’t have but $30.00 and ¾ tank of gas but we pointed our vehicle North East and began driving. My intentions were to drive to Boone Lake just outside of Johnson City but things changed as I began to drive.

We drove down Rutledge Pike through Blaine and towards Rutledge. I spotted Joppa School over on my left and told the kids that my Uncle Ronnie used to be the principal there many years ago. We then decided to turn beside Joppa and head over the mountain toward Washburn. My wife spent her childhood going to church at Central View American Christian church in Washburn. The pastor, Jerry Epperson, has been there for I guess 30-years or more. He was the pastor there when she and I were married in 1985 because he officiated our wedding and that was 24-years ago. We decided to drive by the church so the kids could see where their mother went when she was a child. The church had really changed since we had been there last. They have completely remodeled it by adding brick and expanding the sanctuary. They also have bathrooms inside now, something they didn’t have back when she used to belong there. The church is really beautiful now but I wish the kids could have seen it the way it used to be.

After visiting Central View, we kept driving through Washburn and hit highway 25. I turned left and headed toward Tazewell. We ended up going to one of our very favorite places, Cumberland Gap State Park in Middlesboro, KY. I have taken the kids there a couple of times before and they absolutely love it. My dad used to take us there when I was a kid too. I saw in the Knoxville News Sentinel yesterday, that the park is celebrating their 50-year anniversary this weekend. We sure enjoyed the time we spent there yesterday. My son still had some birthday money left and he bought his self some replica Confederate money and a hat from the gift shop. That boy is more like me than he wants to admit!

We left Cumberland Gap and headed back to Tennessee and I decided to detour through Lafollette. It was a long beautiful drive. We stopped by a Dollar General store and bought some junk food to eat in the car as we were driving. The kids thought we were really something, letting them eat a bunch of junk like that. I know it wasn’t much, just $10.00 worth of snacks, but it will be something they will always remember. We finally made it to I-75 and headed back towards Knoxville. We did stop off in Clinton to see if there was anything at Hammers we wanted but we didn’t buy anything. Then it was back home in Corryton. We had such a great time just driving around for 4 or 5 hours and we weren’t out anything except a half of tank of gas and $10.00. You can’t beat that for quality family time!

Speaking of family time, we are having the Spencer reunion at my mother’s house tomorrow. There are supposed to be around 50 folks coming in from all over to spend time together as a family. My mother is really excited about it and she has spent many hours getting prepared. I hope we have a good reunion.

Don’t forget to treasure the time you have with your family during this 4th of July holiday and don’t forget the families and men that gave their lives to give us this freedom that we enjoy. You might even want to read over the Declaration of Independence just as a reminder.

Read more...

A little self assurance

It is 8:30 AM on Thursday, July 2, 2009. I'm sitting on the couch sipping coffee from my "Don't Mess With Texas" coffee cup. I should be studying. I was up late last night working on some website stuff and listening to some online sermons. Despite being up so late, I woke up early this morning with lots of stuff on my mind and I figured I'd share.

I had the opportunity to preach last night in our Wednesday evening service. Our pastor's son had a medical procedure at Vanderbilt on Tuesday and he had a lot going on so I was happy to fill in for him. I was also happy that God gave me a more upbeat message to preach. It seems like for the past several months all He has been giving me are gloom and doom sermons. It was a refreshing change for me to not feel like I was beating everybody up with the Word. I brought a message about Gideon. It was more like a Sunday school lesson than a sermon I suppose. You can give it a listen if you'd like:

Also, yesterday morning, since I am on vacation this week, my family and I went driving around. I had found a church for sale on the Internet a few days ago and we decided to drive out to Lenoir City to look at it. We pulled up the church driveway and it was exactly as I had pictured it. It just looked like the perfect little church sitting in a beautiful spot up on a hill. Just a small white country church with a tall steeple. It was pretty old and had several things that needed to be repaired. The gutters were clogged and were hanging down in a few places. Weeds had taken over what once used to be flower beds. My heart ached for this church. I couldn't help but wonder why its members had abandoned it. I'm sure at one time there were some happy people attending there that was proud of their little church. I could just imagine in my mind, young children playing outside on a Homecoming Sunday morning, chasing each other through the large churchyard. I could almost hear their laughter. I walked over to the large bell and pulled on the ropes to ring it. It rang out loud, echoing across the valley. I could imagine families in the neighborhood hearing the church bell ring, knowing it was nearly time for services to start. I wanted so badly to clean out the weeds, paint the outside, straighten the handrails and make it look vibrant again. I had my camera with me so I took several pictures of it, which some are attached to this post.

On the drive back home, my kids asked several questions. "Why did we go see that church?" "Are we going to buy that church?" "Why is that church for sale?" I didn't have many answers for them. My oldest daughter became really upset thinking that we were just going to buy the church and move to Lenoir City. I assured her that we would not do anything unless it was God's will. I've learned one thing for sure in my 42-years; don't do ANYTHING unless you know for sure it is God's will. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've got something on my mind and set about making it happen all on my own strength. Nearly every time I've done that, I've failed. It's not until I've beat my head against the wall that I start listening to that still small voice and hand it over to Him. Just like in my sermon last night, if Gideon had of done things his way, he would have went to battle with the 32,000 men instead of the 300 that God wanted. I believe in my heart of hearts if Gideon had proceeded on his own, he would have sent 32,000 men to be slaughtered by the Midianites. But, because he did things God's way, the children of Israel won the battle, even against great odds.

Well, those are my thoughts this morning. I'm really not sure what my point is in all of this. I guess I just needed to assure myself that I need to wait on God for what He wants in my life and you just happened to stumble across this post and was forced to listen.

Read more...

The Lord works in mysterious ways for sure

My family and I have been enjoying attending the revival at Emory Pike American Christian church this week. My lifelong best friend and brother-n-law, Kevin Roberts, is the pastor there. They asked Boyd Myer to do the preaching and he's done a wonderful job. Tonight the Lord laid it on Kevin's heart to preach instead of Boyd. I'm so glad that he did. It thrilled my heart to hear Kevin preach. I've not had the opportunity to hear him in several years. He was really in the spirit. I could have listened to him for hours. I just so happened to have my mp3 player in my pocket and I remembered it about 5 minutes into Kevin's preaching. I quickly pulled it out and turned on the recorder. I'm amazed at how good it picked him up. I came home and uploaded it on archive.org. You can listen to it below.



As I sat there tonight with tears streaming down my face, listening to my childhood friend preach, I couldn't help but be amazed at how God has worked in our lives. Just two old country boys brought up in poor Christian homes. We could have chosen different paths to follow. I'm proud of how we turned out. I'm also thankful that God allowed our paths to cross 37-years ago. I would have never dreamed that we would have ended up being married to sisters and both preaching the Word of God. I'll post more about this later on.

Read more...

A plumber Tug ain't!

Okay so this whole saga began last Friday afternoon. It was getting close to VBS commencement night service and I hadn't taken a shower yet. I knew the bathtub was stopped up but I figured it was like all the other times and I could just take a sink plunger and plunge it free. After plunging on the stupid thing for 30 minutes I had managed to only pull my shoulder out of socket, the drain was still clogged. I took a shower anyway, standing calf deep in nasty water. Luckily everyone else had already had their baths for the day.

The next day we had plans to get away from home for a while and we wanted to get an early start. There was no way we were all going to shower in that disgusting water. I grabbed a screwdriver and began poking around in the drain. I'm no plumber but I figure there must be something pretty large blocking the drain hole. I kept gouging around in there and finally decided to see if I could push through. I was successful. I had managed to push through whatever was blocking the drain and the water drained out. Everyone showered and we were footloose and fancy-free.

We headed out of town and ended up in Asheville, NC down around Biltmore. We were just trying to get a change of scenery. (I'll post about the high-speed police chase we were involved with on I-40 on another day.) The whole week afterwards we were occupied with work and lice treatments and I hadn't thought much about the drain.

You can only imagine how pleased I was when my wife announced that she had went in the basement to get something out of the freezer and the whole basement was flooded with muddy water. Immediately I knew what had happened. I hadn't unclogged the drain after all, I had punched through the PVC pipe and the bath water was draining underneath the house!

So that brings me to today. I got up early this morning and read my Bible, listened to a sermon, took notes and completed an assignment in my seminary notebook. Then I quickly wrote a blog post and commenced to the bathroom to work on the plumbing. I took everything apart and surveyed the damage. I figured a quick trip to Lowes for a new part and I'd be all set. Not so fast... After looking at all of the plumbing choices at Lowes I finally settled on a new piece that looked like the one that I had destroyed. Of course they didn't sell it by itself, it came in a kit. The kit was $19.99. I grumbled about the price but bought it anyway. I got home with it and started piecing things back together. But, as my luck would have it, it was the wrong dadgum size! I had visions of going to Lowes and slinging all the parts through the front window of the store and then doing doughnuts in the parking lot. I managed to remain under control, went back to Lowes, took the old part back and got a new kit. The new kit was $34.00... of course.

After working on the pipes for about an hour, I finally got everything put back together. Oh, it was a lovely sight. Just before patting myself on the back, I decided to test it out. I turned the water on full blast and filled the tub up to about 1/4 full. I pulled the drain plug to let it drain... nothing. The water just stood there. I could feel a deep anger rising up from within. I turned and looked in the bathroom mirror. My eyes had dilated and were turning white. My skin took on a dark green hue as my shirt buttons tore from their threads. I was in full Hulk mode. I looked around for the biggest object to destroy. I had intentions of ripping the bathtub, commode, and sink from their fixtures and slamming them through the bathroom window. Cities were going to be destroyed. No man or beast would be safe in my wake!

Finally I got a grip on myself, sat down on the side of the tub, threw my head into my hands and prayed. "Why Lord? What has your servant done to deserve going through such misery?" I was sweating so hard that it was dripping in great drops and splashing on the floor beside my feet. I managed to rise up, walk to the bathroom sink and turned on the water. "Well I'll be dadgum," the stupid sink was now stopped up! I grabbed the sink plunger and attacked the sink like a mad man. It was going to come unstopped or I was going to drive it through the floor of the house! You cannot imagine the feeling that came over me when all of a sudden I heard a loud suctioning sound. It was like Norris Dam had just broken loose. I turned and looked at the bathtub. Water was whirl pooling down the drain like in those Tidy Bowl commercials. "Hallelujah, Praise the Lord!!!" I shouted. My whole family came running to the bathroom. "It's fixed! It's fixed!" I proclaimed. For the next 5 minutes we were like the Who's down in Whoville singing fah who for-aze around the Christmas tree. Life is good again! The bathtub is draining and not into the basement this time!

I'd like to say there is a moral to this story but I don't know what it is if there is. I can tell you this much, a plumber I ain’t!

Read more...

All work and no play

It's been a while since I posted so I figured I'd write something this morning. I've already been up since 5:30 doing homework. I'm starting to panic because I'm only on assignment 19 of 32 and my notebook is due on July 27th. It seems I have very little time these days to do anything except work. Work at my job as an application engineer, work at my job as music minister and Sunday school teacher, work on seminary assignments, work on my stupid vehicle, and work on this old house that seems to be falling down around us. All of this work is getting to me. I almost feel guilty to be taking time out to write this post!

We had an unfortunate side-effect from our Vacation Bible school last week... head lice. Yep, anytime you get a bunch of kids together from all walks of life you run the risk of being exposed to things that you normally aren't. Sadly, for all of the women in our house, they were exposed to the crawly things. It has been a total nightmare for us here all week. Shampoos, combing, hair bonnets, washing, drying, detoxing stuff... sigh. My wife is at her wits end over it all. Luckily my son and I have escaped. I guess it's because we keep our hair really short? So, things have been really rough for us this week. I'm praying that God sees fit to give us some relief soon.

I suppose with all of the above stuff it has kept me depressed and angry. I try not to be. I pray for peace all day long. It does keep me in constant contact with God so maybe he's using all of this to make sure of that. The worst part is that adding all of this stuff on top of a job that I already despise makes things doubly worse. When I'm at work I am in constant turmoil. I swear to you that I would rather go into a room and be beat all day long as opposed to doing the job I do. Please don't comment and say, "just be glad you have a job because there are people out there that would give anything to have a job, blah, blah, blah"... that doesn't help any. I refuse to accept the fact that I will have to work in a job that I hate for the rest of my working life. I watched my dad be unhappy in his work for most of my childhood. It wasn't until he was able to retire that he seemed happy. Children are a reflection of their parents. I pray to God that things turn around for me soon because I don't want my kids to be miserable their whole life. I'd like for them to see their father happy in his work. The only time I'm happy is when I am teaching, preaching, or leading music at church.

Well, I've got to get off of here. The bathtub drain broke this week and I've got to spend today trying to fix it. That means crawling in a 2-foot space underneath the house, lying in nasty muddy drain water that has been pouring into the crawlspace all week long and trying to figure out how to repair it. If anyone reads this today and is good at plumbing work, come on over, I'll put you to work!

-Tug

Read more...

The innocence of a child

We have been going through Vacation Bible School at my church this week. It has been an outstanding VBS all the way around. I'm amazed at how smoothly things have gone. We have one of the best bunches of kids that we've ever had.

Last night in our final assembly, I was having the kids repeat the memory verses. I had taped one of the verses onto my back and pretended that I didn't know it was on there. As my back was turned to the audience and I could hear those little voices yelling out the memory verse, I kept wondering how may of them would still remember them when they get to be my age? Will they continue learning about Jesus and doing things in their local church? Will they go down that wrong road that leads to destruction? Or will they lose their innocence and get hurt by a so-called "Christian" and give up on church?

When I was a kid I only saw or remembered the good things from church. I didn't ever realize some of the things that went on behind the scenes. The hard feelings, the chips on shoulders, the envy, the jealousy, the hatred, the lying, and all of the other un-Christian behavior that goes on. It wasn't until I was older and began getting involved in church that I saw those ugly things come to surface. I'll never forget the time when I was employed at a local church as their custodian. I was not a member there and I didn't attend services there, I was just an employee. One morning I was inside of my custodian's closet doing an inventory of supplies when the room beside of the closet began to fill up with people. I recognized the voices of the deacons and trustees of the church. I didn't want to fling open my door and cause anyone to have a heart attack or anything so I just sat inside of my closet to wait for them to leave. Little did I know that they were having an impromptu meeting about getting rid of their pastor! This was no small church mind you, they had around 500 in attendance on Sunday mornings and the pastor's salary was $64,000 a year! I heard some of the awfullest things being said in that meeting. My, how they seemed to hate their pastor. As they were ripping their pastor to shreds, I heard the side door of the church open (it had a little buzzer on it that would buzz when opened) and I could hear the people in the room quickly disperse. What I heard next was the clincher. As the pastor walked by the room I heard one of the deacons that had just been in the meeting ripping the pastor apart, greeting the pastor like he was his best friend in the whole entire world. The pastor never had a clue that only seconds before, this same guy was plotting his demise.

My mother also tells of a story that my grandfather, Rev. Edd Spencer, used to tell. He was pastoring a church and one time they had a service where members would pin flowers onto the clothes of people that they loved. My grandfather said he was covered from head to toe with flowers that day. He said that it wasn't a month later that those same people wanted to remove the flowers and stab the pins into him instead!

It is really sad that we, as confessed Christians, behave so badly. I have been involved with some ugly stuff in my years of church work. Stuff that could have been avoided and handled so much better. I think it boils down to pride, which is one of the biggest downfalls of the human race. If we all really loved our neighbor like the Bible says that we should, we could avoid so much misery and heartache. Oh to have the innocence of a child again...

Read more...

This IS your Father's Vacation Bible School!

In the wacky world of Vacation Bible School themes, which include; Boomerang Express, Crocodile Dock, Outer Space, and of all things, a Hollywood game show theme, there is one church in Knoxville that is sticking to tradition.

Highland Baptist Church, 6014 Babelay Rd. in Knoxville, TN, believes that there is nothing wrong with doing things the "old-fashioned" way. According to Highland's VBS director, Byron Chesney; "I looked at all of the themes that were being offered and all of the churches in our area were pretty much doing the same thing and following the same themes. The message of Jesus was not clear in those themes, that is why we decided to create our own, based on the Biblical foundations. Our theme this year is "Christ Is All I Need." I don't think there is any mistaking what that theme is about."

When asked about how he felt about the loud rock type music and energy filled atmosphere of most of today's VBS themes, Chesney states; "According to the Bible I use (Authorized KJV) it says that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and to day, and for ever, who are we to say otherwise? Crafts, refreshments, music, classes, pledges, memory verses, and sharing the Gospel message of Jesus Christ is what VBS should be about. Yes, this IS your Father's VBS."

Highland Baptist Church has been a beacon of hope and light in the Babelay Rd / Washington Pike area since 1942. Vacation Bible School has always been one of the largest Gospel outreach missions of the church. Long-time residents of the Babelay Rd. community can attest to that fact. "I can remember Highland's Vacation Bible School parade from when I was just a little girl," says Sandra Zachary who used to live on Babelay Rd. in the 1950's.

Every year the church comes together for a full community parade which includes numerous cars, trucks, motorcycles, dirt bikes, 4-wheelers, vans, and SUV's. This year's parade included 39-people complete with two police cruisers and 14 other assorted varieties of vehicles. "I've been looking forward to riding my 4-wheeler in the parade for a long time," says 14-year old, Jesse Perkey, who lives nearby. Church members distributed around 700 flyers inviting people to attend Vacation Bible School.

Highland's pastor, Rev. Dave Hutchison, says; "I love our Bible school theme. If people only realized that if they had Christ in their lives, all of the other stuff would just fall into place. Christ really is ALL we need."

Highland's VBS is being held Monday, June 8th through Friday, June 12th from 6:30 to 9:00 PM. Friday night will be family commencement night complete with a community-wide cookout immediately following. For more information about Highland or "Christ Is All I Need," visit the church website at: http://www.hbcknox.org/

Read more...

Okay

Due to the enormous amount of emails and backlash that I have received from folks that were upset that I deleted Tug's Life, I was able to restore it. I may update on here occasionaly. I'll also try to get the banner and things fixed back up. All of the comments that were posted over the past 2 years have been lost.

The other day, I deleted nearly everything that I had posted online over the past 10-years (except for http://www.tntrivia.com/ and http://www.hbcknox.org/). I've cancelled all social accounts (Facebook, Twitter, Myspace etc..). I am just too busy to be messing around with that stuff and it consumes too much time. Don't take it personal if you can't find me in your friend list, I'm not on there anymore is all.

Read more...

When I grow up, I wanna be like...

Have you ever had someone in your life that you always said you wished you could be like? I'm not talking about some movie star or famous singer or anything like that. I mean just someone that you know or have met that you admired and wished that you could be more like them. Maybe have some of their redeeming qualities? Well, I've had a few such folks in my life. Let me tell you about one of them.

I've often written about my grandfather, Rev. Edd Spencer. As you probably have read on here before, he was the founder and pastor at both Highland Baptist Church and North Acres Baptist during his lifetime. Surprise, surprise, this post isn't about my grandfather, it's about another preacher.

My first memories of Rev. Charlie Lynch start way back when I was just a little boy. Charlie was the pastor at Highland Baptist for 10-years, between 1975 and 1985. The pictures on this post are from Highland's 1984 church directory. It was the year before he would leave to pastor North Acres Baptist church for 21-years. It always seemed to me that preacher Charlie was following in my grandfather's footsteps. I used to love to hear Charlie preach. The funny thing is, he never was my actual pastor. We didn't belong to either of those churches during the times he was pastoring them. But, anytime I was looking for a church to visit I would always find my way over to where he was at.

There is a song in the old red back church hymnal that is one of my very favorites in the whole world. It is on page 16 and it's title is, "I Know He Heard My Prayer." I will always remember sitting in North Acres Baptist church and the choir was singing that song. Brother Charlie was standing up there and he was singing along and big tears were streaming down his face. He was praising God and rejoicing, I don't think he even knew there was another person in the whole church besides him and God. I have loved that song ever since then and have always wanted to teach it to one of my choirs. I haven't found a choir yet that has been able to do it. We are always missing a part, whether it is good strong leads or the basses. I'm sure I'll never be pleased with any of them anyway because I'll always be comparing them to the way I remember it from when I was a kid.

Charlie always has a way of making you feel special. He has a big grin that stretches from ear to ear. Kind of reminds me of when Andy Griffith grins, it just takes up his whole face and looks so genuine. Charlie is a tall man, I'd guess around 6' 4. He towers above my short little 5'9 frame when I am beside him. Anytime I have ever met him, without fail, he'll stick out his hand, spread that big grin across his face and welcome me like an old friend. He always has something nice to say about my wife and children. He always tells me how lucky I am to have such a beautiful family. He usually says something funny like, "how in the world did you ever talk her into marrying you?" or something along those lines. I guess that's one of the things makes him so good at being a pastor. I've always admired Charlie's wife, Kathy, as well. She is always so nice and hospitable. Always faithfully there along with Charlie. I guess in my mind they are what I think of when I think of a good pastor and pastor's wife.

I've told my wife for years that if I die early, I want brother Charlie to preside over my funeral. It seems like he has preached the funerals of an awful lot of my acquaintances and loved ones that have went on. I guess the one that I remember most is my granny Spencer's. I'll never forget how loving and gracious Charlie was to my family during that time. He stood over her casket and spoke directly to us with such humbleness. I've also heard him at other funerals. One in particular was Paul Haire's funeral that he preached last year. The compassion that he had for the Haire family was overwhelming. I sat back about 4 pews from them and watched them as brother Charlie preached and talked about how Mr. Haire was such a hero. I remember wondering to myself if I would ever be able to handle a funeral service as eloquently as he can.

I guess it seems kind of odd to write about someone like this while they are still living. I doubt Charlie would ever stumble across my little corner of the blogosphere though. I certainly wouldn't want to embarrass him or anything, I've just had him on my mind a lot and felt the need to write about it. I don't know if I'll ever have as great of a ministry as he has had. I sure wish I could be more like him though.

Read more...

Your chance to win a $50.00 gift card!!!

Economic times are tough. We all know that. And, Earth Fare, the healthy supermarket, seems to know that too. Have you been to their stores? If so, you would know that they are always trying to make healthy eating affordable, easy and delicious! Seriously - have you tried their homemade, all-natural chocolate chip cookies - if not, it is .99 cents of deliciousness! Well, in celebration of the opening of their new Knoxville store on June 17th, Earth Fare gave me a $50.00 gift card to give away! Yeah, very cool. They just said, hey Byron - give this away for us.

So, now, we want you to tell us why you deserve or just plain want this gift card. We've all got stories. You may have a family of four to feed on a tight budget. You may have lost your job recently and just need some extra help. You may be a cookie lover or organic food nut! Or, perhaps for whatever reason, you've never tried a healthy food store and just want to see what it's like! Give us your best reason, and we'll consider it for the prize.

The best story gets the card. So, ready, set, and get writing. Post your reason in the comments below today! You only have until Friday, June 12 to get your entry in. And, we're waiting..

Read more...

The night Hank Williams Jr. ruined our camping trip

This post sorta goes right along with THIS post.

When I was growing up, my dad was a Knox Co. public school teacher. That meant that he had the summers off. We didn’t have a lot of money to go on vacations but we did manage to go to the lake quite often. On occasions we would camp out at the lake. I was thinking about those times this morning and one in particular kept coming back in my mind. Let me tell you about it…

The year was 1980; it was probably in June or July so I was still 13-years old. We still had the avocado green Plymouth Fury station wagon and we had that thing packed tight with camping and fishing gear. We headed off to Black Fox, one of my dad’s favorite fishing holes at that time. That was way before some developers ruined it with a bunch of houses. If there was anything that I loved to do back then, despite this incident, it was fishing with my dad. What made it even better was camping out! Dad never did like staying in a camping area or in a tent or anything; his idea of camping was a sleeping bag and the great outdoors. On this occasion we did bring a few of those fold out lawn chairs that you could lay on, and we used them along with our sleeping bags for beds.

We arrived at the lake around 4:00 in the evening. We backed the station wagon down as close to the lake as we could and unloaded our stuff. It was so quiet and peaceful. Fish were jumping in the lake and we couldn’t wait to wet a line. We unloaded our stuff and set up camp there on the side of the bank and then headed toward the water to fish. We fished for a couple of hours and then built a campfire. It was the perfect spot on the perfect evening. We were sitting around our campfire enjoying ourselves when all of a sudden, a loud truck came pulling in about 10-feet away from us. There were 3 or 4 rednecks in the back of the truck and they all jumped out. They built themselves a big fire, pulled their cooler out of the back and commenced to having themselves a party. Of course you can’t have a party without music so them fellers had them a big loud stereo in the truck and I reckon they wanted to entertain the entire county.

As you probably can guess, my dad was none too happy about all of this. We had drove way out here in the middle of nowhere to get away from people and to enjoy the lake and family time. “Well I’ll be dadgum,” dad said, "drive all the way out here and have to put up with this!” I could barely hear him over the loud music that was playing just a few feet away from us but I knew he was mad. The song that was playing had a driving beat of a large bass drum; “bump, bump, bump, bump, bump, bump, bump, bump, Kaw-liga was a wooden Indian standing over by the door, fell in love with a Choctaw maiden over in the Georgia store, Kaw-ligaaaaaaaaaaaa, whooooooooo.” I thought it was pretty cool myself. As you well know, I was raised mostly on Gospel, Bluegrass, and Folk type music. I had heard Kaw-liga before but never like this. My dad stood up with a disgusted look on his face. “That dadgum Hank Williams Jr., has ruined that song!” dad stated. Dad didn’t know it but I made a mental note of that and from that moment on I was bound and determined to buy myself a Hank Williams Jr. album.

We ended up leaving that night and not camping out there. The next time I had some money, I went to the Kmart and bought myself Hank Williams Junior’s, “Habits Old and New” album. For the next several weeks, if you walked by my room you would hear, “bump, bump, bump, bump, bump, bump, bump, bump, Kaw-liga was a wooden Indian standing over by the door, fell in love with a Choctaw maiden over in the Georgia store, Kaw-ligaaaaaaaaaaaaa, whooooooooo.” With me singing to the top of my lungs right along with old Hank Jr.

Well, thank the good Lord I finally grew out of that stage but I will shamefully admit that every now and then I would enjoy hearing me some Hank.

Read more...

He that hath an ear, let him hear!

Travel back with me if you will, to 1982. Lots of things were happening that year. We had the 1982 World’s Fair right here in Knoxville. Ronald Reagan was President of the United States. Marty Robbins and John Belushi died. LeAnn Rimes and Brad Renfro were born. The J. Geils Band hit #1 on the pop charts with “Centerfold.” The movie “ET” became the highest grossing movie in history. Tug got his ear pierced. Wwwwhhhhaaaatttt???? Yeah, you read that right, Tug got his ear pierced. Okay, let me tell it from the beginning.

You see, in 1982, I had this whole “tough/cool guy” image going on. All of the big stars at the time were “cool” and had earrings. Rick Springfield won a Grammy for his song, Jessie’s Girl and all of the girls were nuts over him. Well, ol’ Rick just happened to sport an earring in his left ear. He wasn’t the only one; John Cougar, Billy Squire, Paul McCartney, Loverboy, they all had earrings as well. This, of course, caused a bunch of teenage boys to go out and get their ear pierced. It had to be your left one because “right is wrong” when it comes to guy ears, it meant you were, uh…”queer.” Of course there was no way on God’s green earth that my parent’s would consent to me having mine pierced. I didn’t even dare ask. I’m sure it would have been one of those “I brought you into this world and I can take you out,” kind of moments.

Well I just so happened to take Home Economics my sophomore year. (Yeah, so much for that tough/cool guy image huh?) I really enjoyed that class. One of my favorite teachers of all time, Mrs. Donahue, taught HomeEc. She liked me too and even made me her student assistant, which meant that I spent like an hour just sitting around in her classroom eating and drinking and talking.

Anyways, during HomeEc class, we learned to sew. I was pretty doggone good at it too! We always sat in groups around the tables and my group was THE best! One person in that group was a girl named Carol. Her older brother, Ron, was one of my heroes because I played trombone in the band and Ron was like this legendary God of trombone players that had graduated from Gibbs and went on to be in UT's Pride of the Southland band. He would come to the school every now and then and help out Mr. Kyle with the band. The entire low-brass section would all but bow down in his presence. That doesn’t really have anything to do with this story; I just thought I’d throw that in there.

So, as I was saying, Carol was part of our group, I think she was the only girl at our table. I can’t remember if she was the one that instigated all of this, if it was I or someone else but for some reason it was decided that I needed to have my ear pierced. Me, being the big tough guy that I was, did not want to back down and show any signs of coward ness, so of course I consented to the whole thing. Now, here’s the rub. Carol said that she could easily pierce my ear with one of the sewing needles we were sewing with. I remember some of the guys saying, “Ah, you won’t do it, Chicken!” That was all it took for me. “Go ahead, push that needle through there!” I told Carol. The next thing I knew, she came up, grabbed my ear and jabbed that needle right through it! I can’t quite explain the feeling that came over me. It was a mixture of excitement, pain, fear, and regret all balled up together. I never wavered or showed a single sign of weakness.

Well, we didn’t have an earring to put in the hole so Carol just left the needle sticking through my ear lobe. The bell rang and I stood up to leave the classroom. My stomach was feeling pretty lousy and I began to get dizzy. I remember that all eyes were upon me. I was doing my best to keep from falling down. I got over next to the wall and held myself up. Slowly, I made my way down the hall. I could hear some of the guys telling others about my ear piercing. I strutted the best I could, making sure everyone could see the needle protruding out of my left ear lobe. I felt like some kind of superstar. I stopped in at the bathroom. I made it over to the sink and looked into the mirror. As I stood there staring at my bloody ear lobe with a sewing needle stuck through it, all I could think was, “my dad is going to kill me!” I wiped the blood off and splashed cold water on my face. I felt like I was going to throw up. Finally I regained my composure and made it to my next class. I went the rest of the day trying to act like it was no big deal and finally 3:25 rolled around and I was able to leave.

When I got on the school bus to go home I held my hand over my ear so no one would see it. By now my ear was stinging and really hurting. I got home and my parent’s were not there. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. “Oh my gosh, what have you done?” I knew that I had to keep it hidden from my dad. I found a pair of my sister’s earrings and stole one of them. I managed to force it into the front of my ear but couldn’t get it to come out the back. Each time I tried it would shoot severe pain through my ear. My ear was very hot and painful to touch. I finally managed to get the earring to go all the way through and I put the back on it. It was so painful that it brought tears to my eyes. I somehow avoided my parents that night and fell asleep with my ear throbbing.

The next day I went back to school with my sister’s earring in my ear. I got a few funny looks and a few people laughed at me. I was sitting in first period class and my buddy, Scott Wilson, told me my ear looked really bad. Kim Chauvan turned around from her seat in front of me and said, "oooh, Byron, your ear is infected!" I went to the bathroom and looked at it. Sure enough, it looked bad. It was red, swollen, and oozing. I reached up and twisted the earring as pain shot through the side of my head. I guess some common sense finally kicked in. I pulled that thing out, cleaned my ear the best that I could and put my earring wearing days behind me, well, except for the time my dad accidentally pierced my ear. My parents never did find out about it. I guess they’ll know as soon as they read this post though!

The moral of this story, don’t be taken in by peer pressure. Always treat your body with respect. Obey your parents, and remember, your ears are made for hearing, not piercing!

Read more...

My Father must have loved me more than the rest!

Over the past week, I have been studying for a sermon that God has laid on my heart to preach. It all started after my last sermon, titled "The Little Church Member, where I mentioned that we, as adults, must correct our children and the younger generation, to show them the way. A few of the youth in our church were offended at my words. You should have seen their faces as they walked past me on their way out the front door that night. They are really bad to talk, whisper, laugh, and generally distract during our worship services. It is the subject of much discussion and discontent among our members. After going back and listening to that sermon, I realized that I neglected to mention the main reason we needed to correct them...read on...

My studies have led me through many passages of Scripture. Beginning in Deuteronomy 6:7, going through Proverbs 19:18, touching on Job 5:17, and all the way to Revelation 3:19. It was during this study time that I got to thinking about my own life and my own father. I have written hundreds of times of my childhood growing up. I came from a pretty structured home. We were Christian people and faithful church attenders. My true blood family members consisted of my mother, father, my older sister Pam, my younger sister Jennifer, and of course myself. That was our family for the first 12-years of my life, which is where I draw most of my memories from. We later adopted my brother Josh.

My sister, Pam, was the oldest, and it seemed that she never did anything wrong. She was always scared to do anything contrary to what our parent's told us. Always obedient (well, except when she refused to eat some peas one time and caused a brief moment of grief at the supper table.) I can't recall Pam ever getting a whipping when we were growing up. Perhaps she did, but I don't remember it. Then there was Jenny. She was the youngest. She was born with many health problems and was always having to receive treatments. Seems like we were always driving downtown to get Jenny's allergy shots or something. She used to sit on dad's lap and he would just love on her and act like she was the best thing in the world. Pam and I were a little jealous of this and we would whisper to each other about our little spoiled brat of a sister. Jenny was 4-years younger than me, and 7-years younger than Pam. So, while Pam and I were forced to do household chores, Jenny would be enjoying a life of leisure, or at least that's the way it seemed to us. Then there was me...

I was the middle child. I was born during a difficult time in my parent's lives. In my early years, Dad was attending college at UT during the day, and mom was working 2nd shift at Levis during the evening. I know it was difficult on my dad to have to take care of me while mom was working. I'm sure the last thing he wanted to put up with after being in school all day and trying to study, was a crying, pooping, peeing little boy.

My school age years, 5-11, were the most trying on my parent's. While I had a good heart, I was also very mischievous. I liked to push things as far as I possibly could to see what I could get by with. This led to much correction from my father. Seems like I was getting whipped on a daily basis. You would think I would eventually learn my lesson and walk the straight and narrow, but not me. To say I was hard-headed is a major understatement. All of this resulted in a well calloused hind-end. I wish I had a dollar for every time my dad whipped me. I could retire and live the life of luxury!

So, having said all of the above, I think you'll have to agree with me that my father must have loved me more than the rest. Because it says in Proverbs 3:12 - "For whom the LORD loveth he correcteth; even as a father the son in whom he delighteth." The part though that I have to keep remembering is in Hebrews 12:11 - "Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby."

The moral of all of this as both children of earthly parent's and children of the Heavenly Father, is found in Ephesians 6:1-3 - "Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right. Honour thy father and mother; (which is the first commandment with promise;) That it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth." -Amen!

Read more...

Remembering Pastor Porterfield

Lately I have had Jamie Porterfield on my mind. He was my pastor at House Mountain Baptist church when I was a member there. He was the first pastor that I ever felt really close to besides my grandpa Rev. Edd Spencer, and my great uncle Rev. Adral Hall. Pastor Porterfield (we just called him Jamie) had such a kind heart and was so open and honest. I was able to talk to him without feeling intimidated or cautious. He taught me a lot in the few years I knew him.

I guess I was first drawn to Jamie because of his outstanding musical talents. He was one of the best singers I had ever heard in my life. There is no question that he could have made a living just from singing. He had such range and beauty in his voice. His rendition of the song Beulah Land was the very best of anyone I have ever heard. You can listen to a short sample of it in the video that is posted below.

Jamie took interest in me and would go out of his way to help me in my Spiritual walk. It was he that taught me how to lead congregational music and conduct a choir. He worked with me on how to keep proper time with my hands through all of the different time signatures. He would give me pointers and correct me when I would do something wrong. He always stressed that I needed to lead the songs with my heart and he gave me books that told the stories behind the hymns. He encouraged me to read the books and find out why the authors wrote them.



It was during Jamie's pastorship that I received the call to preach. He encouraged me all of the time. He saw potential in me and would give me opportunities to preach. I will never forget the night we got the terrible phone call telling us that Jamie's 19-year old son, Joe, had fallen asleep while driving and had died in a car accident. Jamie and Judy were so distraught. I took it upon myself to try and lead the church during this difficult time. One night we all drove to Jamie's house and stood in the driveway and prayed. He came outside and even in his grief and mourning, he told me how much he appreciated me and thanked me for stepping up.

Jamie never was quite the same after Joe passed away. I think it was hard for him to be so far away from his community in South Knoxville. He held on as long as he could and eventually resigned and went to pastor Fellowship Baptist which was just up the road from his home. I was the minister of music of House Mountain and the members put me in as the interim pastor after Jamie left. I held that position for nearly a year while they searched for a permanent replacement.

The last time I saw Jamie alive was in 2001. I had resigned from House Mountain and left the church. I had allowed the devil into my life and had been neglecting my family. It was the lowest point in my entire life and I was on the verge of some kind of breakdown. I was at my ropes end. One evening I was just driving around aimlessly in my truck trying to figure out what to do with myself. Something told me to go and talk to Jamie. I drove to his house and asked him if he had time to talk with me. He said, "lets go sit up here on the hill and talk." We sat on the ground behind his house for a long time and I poured my heart out to him. I told him everything that was going on in my life and he quietly listened without interrupting. I told him things I had never told anybody else. He put his arm around me and told me he understood and he offered me some advice and prayed with me. He didn't know it but he saved my life that day.

Three years later when I heard that Jamie had passed away from cancer, my heart was broken. I had deep regret that I hadn't went back to see him since that day in 2001. I wanted to thank him and tell him that my life was straightened out and my family was whole again and healing. I visited the funeral home on Sunday evening. I talked briefly with his wife, Judy. She told me that Jamie had mentioned me in his last days. The feeling of regret swept over me.

It is hard to believe that Jamie has been gone for 5-years now. I still think of him a lot. I've got some of his old preaching tapes and one of his CD's that I listen to every now and then. I thank God that I was allowed to be acquainted with Jamie Porterfield.
__________________________________

PORTERFIELD, REV. JAMIE - age 49, of South Knoxville, went home to be with the Lord Thursday, January 22, 2004. He was the former Pastor of Fellowship and House Mountain Baptist Churches. He was well known for his beautiful singing of Gospel Music and his spiritual leadership of the South Knoxville Community. He was preceded in death by his: Sons, Jason and Joe Porterfield and by his father, Rev. A.J. Porterfield Survivors: Wife: Judy Porterfield Daughter: Jessie Porterfield and fiancée Will Cogdill Mother: Lorene Porterfield Brother and sister-in-law: Robert Porterfield and wife Becky Sister and brother-in-law: Kathy Wallace and husband Kenny Mother-in-law: Vina Knight. He will be missed by his breakfast buddies at the Korner Market and will always be in the hearts of those who knew and loved him. We are confident, I say and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord. 2 Corinthians 5:8. Funeral service 1 PM Monday at Valley Grove Baptist Church with Rev. Chuck Young, Rev. Ed Parton and Rev. Guy Milam officiating. Interment will follow in Atchley's Seymour Memory Gardens. The family will receive friends 3-9 PM Sunday at Atchley Funeral Home Seymour, 122 Peacock Court, Seymour TN. (865)577-2807 (www.atchleyfuneralhome.com)

Read more...

Intimidated, Overwhelmed, and Excited

I sit here tonight intimidated, overwhelmed, and excited. That's a lot of emotions for one night! I was able to pick up my books to begin my first semester at Crown Seminary! It was the first time I had ever been to the campus. I've been to Temple Baptist before on a couple of occasions but never to Crown College. To say it is impressive is an understatement. The building itself is beautiful and impeccable. I entered into the front door and was warmly greeted by a nice lady behind a welcome desk. She graciously led me to the Crown Bookstore where I picked up my required books.

I was wearing nice khakis and my long-sleeved, button up, Tyco Electronics dress shirt, pretty dressy for business casual. I should have dressed nicer. Everyone in the college was wearing nice dress pants, button up shirts, ties, and polished shoes... the way I typically dress for church. I felt so out of place! I also felt very old among all of the young fresh faces that were meandering around the bookstore.

I have been going through my assignment notebook tonight and flipping through the huge stack of books. I've got a lot of work ahead of me. I am required to read the Old Testament in its entirety for this first course; "Advanced Old Testament." I know I'm going to really enjoy my assignments. It feels a bit overwhelming right now but I'm excited about digging in and get started. Please remember me in your prayers as I work on my Masters in Ministry because I need all I can get!

Read more...

Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbors Peaches!

Yesterday at church, I was teaching my Sunday school class a lesson about Salvation, and I began discussing being able to know a saved person by their "fruits." As I was talking about that and discussing the "good tree bringing forth good fruit and a bad tree bringing forth bad fruit," all of a sudden I had a recollection of something that happened to me in my childhood. I told my class about it and they all got a real big kick out of it, so I thought I'd share it with the readers of Tug's Life.

I guess it was around 1978, I was either 11 or 12 years old. It was during the Summer time when we were out of school. My dad had this old apple tree that grew in our backyard. It would always be loaded down with these little green apples. You couldn't stand to eat them, they were way too sour. Of course, that didn't keep me and Pam from feeding them to Lorn's cows... We mostly just threw them at each other when we apple fights in the backyard.

Anyways, getting to my point... I was exploring through the woods back behind my papaw's property. There wasn't any houses back there at that time, just cow pastures and woods. In one of these pastures, I discovered a huge peach tree. That tree was loaded down with the biggest, juiciest, peaches you have ever seen in your life. I first plucked one off, whipped out my barlow knife, peeled the skin off and ate one. "Yum, yum," it was good! I then got this bright idea that I would pick ALL of the peaches off of that tree and take them home with me. I didn't even think about the peaches belonging to somebody else. After all, they were way out there in the field not even close to anybody's house. I just figured the tree had grown wild and was placed there for my benefit. I began picking those peaches, holding out the bottom of my t-shirt and using it for a make-shift sack. After I picked as many as I possibly could, I somehow made it back home, crossing at least 4 different barbed wire fences, without dropping all of the peaches on the way.

When I got back to the house, I got the bright idea that I could make me a little bit of money off of them there peaches. So, I got some brown paper lunch sacks that my momma had in the kitchen cabinet. I could fit 3 or 4 in each sack. I then placed the sacks in a 5-gallon bucket, hooked the bucket handle over one handlebar on my bicycle and headed off down the road to sell those peaches. I first stopped at Dewey Grave's house and tried to sell some to him, he said he "didn't want no peaches." I moved on down the road hitting every door on the way. I sold a few peaches. I was asking 25 cents a piece for them. I went to one house and the man was awfully nice. He bought 3-bags of my peaches. I think it cost him around $3.75. You talk about happy! I peddled home on my bike as fast as my little fat legs would take me. I walked in the house wiping peach juice off of my chin and counting my money. My dad looked at me and said, "where did you get that money?" I said, "I sold some peaches to that man that lives down the road." Then dad said, "where did you get them peaches?" I said, "I found a peach tree way back yonder behind Lorn's woods." Then dad said, "you mean to tell me you sold that man his own peaches?" I had no idea that my best customer was the man that owned the field I had taken them from! I just looked up at dad and said, "well, I reckon I did."

Yep, you guessed it, after fessing up to dad, he made me go back to the man and give his money back and apologize for stealing peaches off of his tree. You talk about embarrassing! So remember kids, "thou shalt not steal," and "thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's peaches!"

Read more...

A stitch in time

My youngest daughter probably has over 50 stuffed animals in her room. Anytime we are at a store she goes straight to the aisle where they are displayed. “Oh, I want it,” she’ll say. We don’t buy her every stuffed animal she asks for, if we did, we would have to have a separate house for them to live in!

I started thinking this morning about when I was a kid (imagine that) and I thought about my favorite stuffed animal that I had, old Bugs (see picture above). We didn’t have the luxury of just going out and buying stuffed animals. They really weren’t that popular back then anyways and not readily available. Well, my mother is a master seamstress. She can sew anything she puts her mind to. I guess it was in the very early 1970’s, mom had a bunch of scrap material and she was just sewing up a storm. She made everything from blue polyester suits to for Sunday, to game bags for storing dead squirrels. One time she got on a kick of sewing stuffed animals. She asked each of us what kind of animal we would like to have. Since my favorite cartoon character in the world was Bugs Bunny, naturally I chose a rabbit. I don’t recall what my sisters chose.

I’ll never forget when mom finished my rabbit and she brought it to me. I was so excited! It was perfect to me. I guess it was red because that’s the material she had to use at the time. She had glued those little plastic eyes on it and a nose with whiskers. I promptly named it “Bugs.” I always had Bugs with me every night when I laid down to go to sleep. As I would say my prayers, I would lift one up for old Bugs. I don’t think he ever closed his eyes when I’d pray, but that was okay. He would either lie on my pillow and watch over me, or I would hold him in my arms till I fell asleep.

Over the years Bugs lost his glued on parts. I think his eyes fell off first. We tried gluing them back on but they wouldn’t hold. Then his nose and whiskers departed. I didn’t mind too much, I could still see where they used to be. Mom had to sew Bugs back up several times. One time his neck split open and some of the stuffing came out. I cried until mom fixed him back up. She must not have had any thread at the time because she used fishing line to sew it with. When I got into my teenage years, I still kept Bugs around, although I promptly placed him on the dresser, because, after all, I was way too mature to sleep with stuffed animals.

When I got married, I remember packing up all of my stuff. I threw a few things away, gave some items to different people, and took what I needed. I looked at Bugs sitting on the dresser; my mind was flooded with fond memories. I reached over, grabbed him, and laid him on top of a stack of clothes that I had packed in a box. Surely my wife wouldn’t mind if I brought Bugs along. It is hard to believe it has been 24-years since that day.

Fast forward to June 17, 1997. My wife delivered a strapping young boy that day. I knew right away he was the rightful heir to Bugs. We lay my son in his crib and promptly placed my treasured tattered homemade stuff animal beside him. He spent the first 3 or 4 years of his life chewing on the ears, that’s why one of them is shorter than the other. Matthew is 12-years old now and one of the smartest kids you’ll ever meet. I hope he doesn’t mind if I tell you that he still sleeps with old Bugs.

I thank God that I had a mother that was so willing to make me a little stuffed animal. I’m sure she didn’t think when she made it that it would still be around almost 40-years later and passed down to her grandson.

A Mother's Love

A Mother's love is something
that no on can explain,
It is made of deep devotion
and of sacrifice and pain,
It is endless and unselfish
and enduring come what may
For nothing can destroy it
or take that love away . . .
It is patient and forgiving
when all others are forsaking,
And it never fails or falters
even though the heart is breaking . . .
It believes beyond believing
when the world around condemns,
And it glows with all the beauty
of the rarest, brightest gems . . .
It is far beyond defining,
it defies all explanation,
And it still remains a secret
like the mysteries of creation . . .
A many splendoured miracle
man cannot understand
And another wondrous evidence
of God's tender guiding hand.

- Helen Steiner Rice

Read more...

Delivering souls from hell, one Holly bush at a time

"Withhold not correction from the child: for if thou beatest him with the rod, he shall not die. Thou shalt beat him with the rod, and shalt deliver his soul from hell." - Proverbs 23:13-14 KJV

This morning on my way to the dentist, I noticed how beautiful the Holly bush is that is growing outside of my front door. Then some old memories smacked me right upside the head and caused me to shudder, read on...

I grew up in church. My grandfather, Rev. Edd Spencer, was the founder and Pastor of North Acres Baptist church. That is where we went up until he passed away in 1972. So, my memories go all the way back to when I was 5 or 6 years old. Where I come from, we take the Bible literally. I was taught this from a very early age. The above Scripture from Proverbs doesn't beat around the bush (no pun intended). I remember as a young boy sitting on the church pew, 3rd row from the front, on the left hand side of the church. My sister, Pam, and I would sit toward the middle and my mother and Granny Spencer would sit toward the wall. Granny was the church pianist so she would sit on the end so she could slip in and out easily. My mother kept a pretty close eye on me in church, making sure I didn't act out or cause embarrassment to myself or anyone else. If I started moving around too much or talked or giggled, she would be quick to look over at me with a stern look. That was her sign that I needed to settle down. If I kept on acting up, she would make me sit between her and Granny. If I didn't behave while sitting between mom and Granny, both of them would reach over and pinch my leg REAL hard and threaten me with; "you better settle yourself down or I'll wear you out with a limb off of that holly bush!" You would think I would have learned my lesson, but, nooooo. At that point, a kick of the bench in front of me, a look behind me at somebody, or a giggling glance toward my sister meant I was really going to get it. "Okay big boy, you asked for it, let's go outside!" That's when mom would drag my little degenerate hind-end down the aisle and out the front door of the church.

I don't know if you have ever had Proverbs 23:14 enacted on your backside with a Holly bush limb, but brother let me tell you, a pair of thin polyester Sunday britches doesn't offer much protection! I can't remember how many times I received a butt blistering in the churchyard but I know it was more than once. I've always had a deep respect and silent hatred for the Holly bush ever since. The good Lord only knows why I planted one of those blasted things outside the front door of my house!

I've never had to resort to a Holly bush beating on any of my kids, but they've had their share of discipline. You won't catch any of them acting out in church! I see and hear kids and teenagers at my church talking during the service, laughing, cutting up, walking around, etc.. and it astounds me that they don't have any respect for the church and the service, especially during altar call. When I was a kid, if I had made a peep during altar call (other than praying), I would have had hell fire and brimstone rained down on me! I think some kids today could use a little old fashioned Proverbs administered through the loving limb of a Holly bush. Who knows, it might just deliver their souls from hell!

Read more...

Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes

One of my Facebook friends asked a question tonight: "what was the quirkiest/most interesting thing about your childhood, and how did it shape the adult you became?" Ever since I read that question I have been trying to think of things in my childhood that made lasting impressions on me. If you are a regular reader of Tug's Life then you know my childhood was filled with interesting and quirky things. I've got a pretty good memory (some say it's selective) and I can sit for hours just pulling things out of my head from the past. Every now and then I'll remember something that I had not thought of since it happened, but there are always those memories that are with my almost constant.

One memory that I think about every now and then is one that happened to me back around 1973 or '74. It was during the summer months during school break. My dad was a Knox Co. School teacher and he got paid on the 25th of every month. We used to sit on the couch and stare out the window waiting for the mail man to deliver the check. Sometimes in a move of desperate anticipation, mom would drive down the road to see where the mail man was. We won't even talk about that terrible day that the mail man didn't stop!

So, it was pay day and the Chesney family was out on the town. We all had our allowance and we got to choose where we would spend it. We ALWAYS went to the K-mart, if for no other reason than because they had air conditioning there. We never had AC in our house and when we would feel that blast of cold air hit us as we walked into the front doors of the K-mart, we thought we were in Heaven. Well, right up the hill from K-mart was Kay's Ice Cream, and that's where my memory comes from tonight....read on....

My sister Pam, and I, had been craving something cold and sweet. My favorite was a chocolate malt. Pam usually got a chocolate shake or a double scoop of chocolate ice cream. We sauntered up to the counter and straddled the round, swivel stools. I did a couple of spins around on mine while Pam laughed and gazed at the large vats of ice cream behind the counter. I knew that I wanted a chocolate malt, a large one at that! I had enough money to buy it. The lady walked up to the counter and said, "what can I get you all?" I stopped spinning on my stool and looked up at the lady. She stared at me and with a huge smile and said, "Oh, you have the most beautiful brown eyes I have ever seen in my life!" I probably turned 3 shades of red and didn't know what to say. The lady then turned to another lady that was working there and said, "I want you to look at this young man's eyes, ain't they the purtiest you've ever seen?" The other lady looked at me and nodded her head in agreement. "Yep, those are some pretty brown eyes alright." I looked over at Pam and she looked at me and rolled her eyes.

We gave our order, got our stuff, paid and turned to walk away. The lady behind the counter shouted out at me, "you come back again... brown eyes!" It was a wonder I was able to fit my head through the door as I made my way back out to the parking lot. Pam laughed at me and said something about my "girlfriend." I was embarrassed and slipped into the back seat of dad's car and wondered about just how pretty my eyes must have been. As soon as we got home that night I went and looked into the mirror. My eyes didn't look any different than any other brown eyes I had ever seen. But, what did I know? I reckon the lady at Kay's Ice Cream knows more about eyes than I did.

Isn't it funny how something small like that would stick around inside of my memory all of these years? I guess it's because it was something personal and it came from someone other than an immediate family member. I suppose the lesson from this is that we should go out of our way to notice people and say a nice word. You never know what it might mean to them.

Read more...

Oh, my aching tooth!

Last week, I think it was Thursday, I noticed that whenever I was eating on the right side of my mouth, I would get a sharp pain. I figured it was just something that would go away. Boy, was I wrong! It got to where I couldn't eat on that side at all without it hurting. Then any time I would drink coffee it would almost kill me. It got worse and worse all week and over the weekend it was getting almost unbearable. It finally did get unbearable yesterday. Last night I was awake nearly the entire night with a sharp throbbing pain shooting through my right jaw. My head has been pounding and jaw aching for the past 3-days.

I finally was able to visit the dentist this evening. I had a crown put on my tooth last year about this same time. Dr. Sowder told me at that time that the nerve was very close to the top of my gum and there wasn't much tooth to attach the crown to. He told me there was a danger that I might have to have a root canal eventually but it could be anywhere from a year to 5 years or even longer. I took a gamble that it would be NEVER. I was wrong. Only a year later and now I'm faced with having a root canal tomorrow at 2:30. I've always heard my entire life that a root canal is extremely painful. Now all of a sudden people are telling me that it's not really that big of a deal anymore. I don't know what to believe. I guess I'll find out tomorrow.

Dr. Sowder did call me in some narcotics though. I have taken one Hydrocodone pill this evening. I've not really been in much pain and I feel pretty drained, probably from lack of sleep last night. Mary says that those kind of pills usually knock her out quickly. If I would put this stupid computer away and go to bed I would probably be out like a light. I just hate the thoughts of losing 3 or 4 hours of my own time. I know that once I go to sleep I'll just be getting up and facing another day tomorrow and the dread of having a root canal. Oh well, life goes on I reckon.

Read more...

You Big Fat Pig!

"YOU BIG FAT PIG!!!"

That's what I screamed out at my 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. Sharf, after she and I had got into an argument about the days of the week. I had never argued with an adult before so it was a very intense moment for me. This incident left a lasting impression on me. I told my kids about it last night after our family altar time. We are currently studying in Genesis about the creation and I was explaining the days of the week to them and why we worship on Sunday instead of Saturday and it just jolted this memory right out of my head.

I was in the 3rd grade at Gibbs elementary school (see above picture). The year was 1974, I was 8-years old. My family always went to church on Sunday and in my small mind, I assumed it was the last day of the week. After all, God rested on the 7th day, and not knowing history very well yet, I figured Sunday was the 7th . I don't recollect anyone ever telling me different.

I remember Mrs. Sharf was teaching something and she made mention that the first day of the week was Sunday. I couldn't believe she didn't know better! I thought, "she must not be saved if she thinks Sunday is the first day of the week!" So, I shouted out in front of all of the class, "no it's not!" Mrs. Sharf said, "no what's not?" "Sunday... Sunday is not the first day of the week, it's the last, everybody knows that!" She glared back at me and said, "no, just look at a calendar, it's the first day of the week." I was starting to get mad! "No, you are wrong" I said, "we go to church on Sunday and I know for a fact it's the last day of the week!" She walked closer to me and said, "no Byron, that's not right, Sunday is the first day of the week." My blood was boiling. I wanted to stand up and start preaching a sermon to this poor lost woman. I was getting frustrated because everyone in the room was staring and listening.

Now, all of this was in the days of open classrooms, so just imagine about 75 kids sectioned off in a large room and all eyes upon me. Things were getting heated. I kept arguing with Mrs. Sharf. She told me I needed to calm down. She never would admit that Sunday was the last day of the week. My emotions were mixed with anger, rebellion, and stubbornness. I looked up at her and out of frustration, yelled to the top of my lungs, "YOU BIG FAT PIG!!!" Mrs. Sharf's face turned beet red and she pointed at me and said, "Byron Chesney, you need to settle yourself down right now!" I threw my head onto the desk and covered myself with my arms. All of a sudden I just wanted to be in a cave or something. I broke down and started bawling. No one was laughing at me, I think they were all scared to death. I was always a pretty tough kid in school so I'm sure all of my buddies were in shock. I couldn't look up, I was so sick over this.

I can't remember how long I sat there with my face buried into the desk. After some time, Mrs. Sharf came over to me and put her hand on my shoulder and said, "Byron, it's okay, I'm sorry that you got so upset. Why don't you get up and go to the restroom?" I couldn't look at her. I felt so ashamed for calling her names. With my head still down I muttered, "I'm sorry I called you a big fat pig." She said, "it's okay, you were just upset, but you shouldn't ever call anybody names."

Eventually I recovered from this incident but it sure has stuck with me all of these years. I guess it was the first time I had ever stood up for what I believed in. I guess there is a lesson in all of this. Just because you really believe something in your own mind, doesn't necessarily make it so. I suppose that's why there are so many different religions and beliefs. Oh, and by the way, I now fully understand that Sunday is the Lord's Day and it is the first day of the week. You can refer to the SBC basic beliefs.

Read more...

On hold and feeling anxious

Don't you just hate being on hold? There is nothing more aggravating than to have to call someplace to talk to someone and then be put on hold while they get around to you. I'm sure the call is nowhere near as important to the person being called than to the person making the call. When we are like that, we imagine all sorts of things in our head. "They just don't want to talk to me." "My call must not be important to them." "They are probably ignoring me." Or worst of all; "I'll probably get disconnected." It is sort of out of your control when it's like that.

I feel like I am on hold right now. Not on the phone mind you, but in life. I mentioned in THIS post that I am pressing toward the mark, and I am doing that. But, right now it feels like the brakes are on. I was so excited about getting to start Seminary classes. I prayed about it, I planned, I didn't dive into it quickly or anything. I felt like it was what God wanted me to do (and I still do.) Then, after I get enrolled, accepted, and completed my first assignment, I am faced with lack of finances. Seems like all manner of things have came up ever since getting accepted. I feel like I need to blame someone. Is it the devil holding me back? Is it President Obama holding me back? Am I holding myself back? Or, is God making me wait?

Now, it's no secret that I'm not a wealthy person. I never have been and I'm sure I never will be. Money doesn't mean a whole lot to me. I like having enough to survive on and to make my family comfortable, but as long as we have a roof over our heads and food on the table, I am pretty happy. Things cost money though. When I first went to college, I was able to obtain my A.S. degree nearly completely paid for by grants. When I enrolled for my B.S., I had to take out student loans which I'll be paying back for the next several years. I no longer qualify for grants because I have a B.S. I don't want to take out more student loan money, that's just more money to have to pay back with interest. I certainly don't want to put the classes on a credit card at 17-22% interest. So what's a man to do? The first course is going to require at least $500.00 up front for matriculation fees, course fees, and books. That's a large chunk of change to come up with all at once and still be able to feed my family.

I'm not trying to get people to feel sorry for me. I'm just writing it out because it makes me feel better. I have the faith that God will provide in His own time. Maybe there is a source of income waiting on me that I don't know about yet. Perhaps a refund from something that I know nothing about? Maybe a secret millionaire out there somewhere looking for a worthy cause to donate to? ;) Who knows? All I know for sure is, right now I'm on hold and feeling anxious.

Read more...

Beasts of Burden

Back when I was a kid, my parent's never had a new car. Actually, to this day they have never bought a brand-new car that nobody else had ever owned. So, we had the best car that my dad could afford to buy at the time.

I remember several of the old automobiles we used to have. There was the pink '57 Plymouth that had two wires sticking out of the center of the steering wheel that would shock you and blow the horn if you touched them. I always tried to be very careful as I slid across the seat so that I didn't get lit up. There was the 63 Dodge Dart with the push-button gears. The green '76 Chevy pickup that nearly rusted in half. The '72 Pontiac Catalina with the 400 engine.

My very favorite car that dad had was a 1965 Dodge Coronet. I thought it was a race car. It reminded me of something that Richard Petty would probably drive in the races. It seems like it always had transmission problems and left us stranded several times. One time I climbed on top of that car and slid down the windshield and onto the hood. There were little chrome blinkers on top of the outer fenders and I slid across one of them and ripped a large chunk out of my leg. I had to go to the hospital and have it sewn back up.

One vehicle that I'll never forget was the big green '72 Dodge station wagon. It was a fairly nice vehicle when dad bought it. Certainly one of the nicest we had ever owned. All of the family could fit in it without any problems. It had 3 rows of seats and I used to love to sit in the very back row next to the back window. One time I accidentally left the back door ajar and dad was pulling out of the driveway and the door came open and hit the metal gate, putting a large dent in the side of the door. Man, dad was mad at me over that one! One time dad was working on that car and got very frustrated and started pounding away at it with a wrench. I doubt he got much trade-in value for that car.

Then of course there was the '69 Ford Galaxie that I eventually totaled. I really liked this car too. It was very fast. It had a large 390 engine and you could nail the gas and burn the back tires completely off of it. Trust me, I tried it and dad found out because he had put a brand new set of snow tires on that car and I completely ruined them. I got in big time trouble over that one too. I remember walking in the living room and it was the first time that Mary had ever been to my house. She was going to meet my dad for the first time. We walked in and he had been sleeping on the couch. He jumped off the couch and lit into me about burning those tires off. Mary was scared to death. Things eventually settled down though.

I personally have purchased 3 brand new vehicles in my lifetime. The first one was a '93 Nissan Truck, man I loved that truck. I still have it but it needs a timing chain and I have it disassembled right now. The next was a '94 Nissan Sentra. We drove that thing until it nearly fell apart. It was a good car but toward the end it was breaking down on us constantly. Then there is the '04 Nissan Xterra that Mary drives now. We've had it for 5 years now and it has been a wonderful vehicle. We only have 57,000 miles on it.

I bought a used '93 Nissan Pathfinder (the one in the pictures on this post) about 4-years ago because I convinced myself that I needed something bigger to drive and needed a 4-wheel drive. I have had problem after problem out of that thing. The transmission went out on it after I had it for about 6-months. I bought a used transmission from a junkyard for $1500 and put in it. That was a job that took me all winter and had me contemplating suicide. I've not had any problems with the transmission ever since but plenty of other small things. A couple of months ago it wouldn't start unless you pecked on the side of the solenoid with a broom handle. I attempted to take the solenoid out to replace it but couldn't get the starter to clear the engine without unbolting the engine and lifting it up some. I decided to just bolt it back in place and it began starting every time without any problems after that. Then I went to get in it this past Monday and it wouldn't start. It was deader than a hammer. After hours of troubleshooting, I found that the alternator is shorted out and is draining the battery as it sits over night. I spent all morning this morning taking the alternator off. Now I've got to fork out $123.00 for a replacement one. Oh, did I mention that I have one more payment left on the stupid thing???

I was mentioning to one of my former classmates and Facebook friends, that we should just go back to the horse and buggy days. The only problem is that my horse would probably become lame and have to be put down and the wheels would probably fall off of my buggy. Oh, these beasts of burdens!

Read more...

Some Saturday Morning Thoughts

I woke up really early this morning, around 4:30 am, and I couldn't go back to sleep. I went ahead and got up, brewed a pot of coffee and sat down on the couch in front of the TV. It caused me to think about the times when I was a kid waking up so eager on Saturday morning to watch cartoons. As I mentioned in THIS post, because of cable television and DVD's, kids don't know what it's like to have to wait a whole week to see cartoons, they can see them anytime they like, 24-7. Not so when I was a young'n.

I remember being about 10-years old, waking up really early in the morning before the rooster crowed. (Yes, we had roosters that crowed every morning.) I would get out of bed and very quietly, so's not to wake up mom and dad, tip-toe into the living room to watch cartoons. It didn't matter what time I went to bed the night before, I was always up by 6:00 am or earlier so I could see my favorites. I remember having to patiently wait for the U.S. Farm Report to end so I could watch JOT the DOT. I always felt close to JOT because he would get himself into trouble all of the time and it reminded me a lot of my own life. Although, I don't think JOT got his hind-end busted as many times as I did!

I suppose JOT the DOT wouldn't be very popular with kids nowadays. It is too simple. Today's kids think everything has to be hi-tech with lots of loud music and action. I fear that children have lost part of their childhood by being introduced to such stuff so early in life. They say that times change and we have to change with them, but is that really true? I am of the opinion that we force this change on ourselves. It's that attitude that we have of thinking we have to have it all and we have to have it right now. I can look at my own children and see where I have failed as a parent. You can go into any of their rooms and you'll find a computer, television, telephone, video game consoles, and DVD's. Yet they still want more. How did it become this way? When I was a kid, your parent's would have had to be millionaires before you would have such things. I am by no means a millionaire, in fact, according to today's standards I am in the lower class income bracket. It sickens me sometimes.

Do you ever dream of just selling off everything you have and moving away to the middle of nowhere? With today's economic conditions, that may not even be an option anymore. Things have really gotten bad. People are being forced to walk away from their homes and move into small apartments because they can no longer afford to pay the mortgage and upkeep on their houses. Putting your house up for sale on the market doesn't work either. Nobody is buying. I know several people who have tried to sell their homes but can't. Sadly, the American dream has turned into the American nightmare.

Despite the gloomy outlook, we can't just throw in the towel and give up. We must do as Paul says and "press toward the mark." I'm not talking about pressing toward the hope of buying things or living in large nice homes. I'm talking about pressing towards a closer relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ. If people only realized that most of the problems in their lives can be attributed to not having a relationship with Jesus. I'm not saying that if you follow Jesus all your troubles will be over, but they way those troubles effect your life will be severely altered. I can't even imagine trying to make it in today's world without having Christ to lean on, to talk to, to receive comfort from. I've not always had a close walk with Him. I remember what it was like when those troubles and trials hit and I felt so alone. There was a time when my wife and I were not attending church, and definitely not living Christian lives, and I can tell you without a doubt that those were the most unsatisfying times of our lives.

I didn't really intend for this to be a "preaching" post, it just sort of turned that way. I hope each person that reads this has a personal relationship with Christ. If you don't, I encourage you to seek God. If you don't attend church (which is not a requirement for Salvation) I do think you would benefit to find a place of worship. You will draw strength from other believers and it helps in your daily walk. Try reading the Bible and praying. So many people tell me that they "just don't understand the Bible." I used to be one of those people. That was my excuse for not reading the Bible. That's just it, it's just an excuse. If you really want to understand something, you will put forth effort. It wasn't until I really started reading, concentrating, and praying, that I found a love and desire for God's Word. Trust me, if you will try, you will understand. Things will begin to open up for you. There are millions of free sources online to help you study and understand God's Word. Check them out, compare them, and come up with your own decisions. Here are a few resources that I personally use and can recommend:

Bible Gateway

Sermon Audio.com

Sermon.net

Classic Bible Commentaries

P-R-E-C-E-P-T A-U-S-T-I-N

Wisdom for the Heart

OnePlace.com

BBN International

Read more...