elloree's Journal

Sanctity of Life Part II
Just recently a man in our area was arrested for cruelty to animals. He was keeping a couple of horses in a small barn. They were found without food or water. We all saw them on the local news and they looked like they had been suffering for a while. Cruelty works in a couple of different directions. These horses were suffering from neglect. Sometimes animals suffer from abuse. Since animals can’t yell for help or dial 911, folks often get away with what they do to animals. Any help they get is going to come from people speaking up on their behalf. Bob Dylan said, “Man thinks cause he rules the world, he can do with it as he please. And if things don’t change soon he will.” Indeed, we all know we are the rulers of this world, and in the minds of some, that’s all the right they need for treating animals anyway they choose.

Paul Harvey often spoke in defense of animals. There’s one thing he repeated that has stayed in my mind. In modern history where we keep records of everything, it has been found that every torturer or men was first a torturer of animals. No one grew up and developed an appetite for inflicting pain on others. For whatever the reason, that desire was present at youth. They preyed on the weak; which at the time was animals. As they grew in strength and cunning, they began to prey on weaker people.

And herein lies a truth. You cannot compartmentalize life. Everything is connected. Everything leads to something else. The Bible goes into great detail to make this concept clear. You train up a child in the way he should live and he will not depart from it. You can’t plant one thing and expect to harvest something else. One seed produces a certain harvest. Another seed produces a different crop. An undisciplined and evil youth will produce an undisciplined and evil adult. Billy Graham didn’t grow up like some weed in the yard and then miraculously turn into a great man of God. He came from a family that followed Jesus and taught him to do so.

There’s what we call the domino effect. Everything affects something else. If you can devalue a life, then you can find a way to devalue another life. We live in a time that accepts the unrestricted slaughter of the unborn. A lot of court battles and Drs opinions went into making the present state of things. We cannot stomach the taking of an innocent life, but often a pregnancy is seen as inconvenient. To make it acceptable, either by look or crook, the murder aspect had to be taken away. Among abortionists, the conclusion is that life does not start until a baby draws air into its own lungs. Now, if you can accept that as the beginning of life, then you’ll have no problem with abortion.

The problem is that we all know the unborn baby is alive. The growing, the kicking, all attest to the fact. Ultra sounds give us something the old folks never had – view of the baby in the womb. You can hear the baby’s heart beat, and watch him or her suck their thumb. But, by the definition of some, all the above still does not constitute life. I am always shocked at man’s inhumanity towards man. If it is accepted that life does not begin until the baby breathes on his or her own, then that baby can be terminated even at the time of birth. The deviousness of it all makes me so angry. In partial birth abortions, the Dr. rotates the unborn and allows the feet to be born first. They are careful not to allow the head to be born lest the baby draw breath and be declared alive. But, before the head is born, the Dr. inflicts a mortal wound and then finishes the delivery. Paul Harvey always saw the stupidity of something we do. We allow the baby to be killed during birth, but we jail the girl who gives birth and leaves the baby in a bathroom trashcan to die. Mr. Harvey called it “abortion after the fact.”

If you can accept an early abortion, then you can accept a late term abortion. If you can start redefining life, then you can do anything. A few years ago it was court ordered in Florida that a woman was to be starved and thirsted to death. She sustained an injury that took away her previous quality of life. She wasn’t dying, but her husband was looking to move on, so he was ready for her to die. The police barricaded the house and even tased man who tried to rush in with food and water. If you can define life as needing a certain quality, then we are only a short step away from those societies that put their elderly to death. The disabled, the retarded, all become part of a group that you can eliminate.

Margaret Sanger was the founder of “Planned Parenthood”. She held to the teachings of Darwin & Nietzsche and believed that blacks, Jews, and Orientals were all subhuman races that needed to be eliminated. I have partnered with Life Choices for years now, and I have no illusions about what they do. They encourage women to choose life. By and large, the lives they save are black babies born to unwed mothers. And indeed, I have been told that all I need to do is nothing. If I would stop my support of Life Choices, then more black babies would be aborted and there would be less racist trouble. But, I cannot take the word “LIFE” and start adding my own terms like “quality” or “convenience.” Only God can make it. We have the ability to destroy it, but the innocent should never be deprived of it. The Almighty says His wrath will come against those who shed innocent blood. He also commands me to speak up for those who can’t speak for themselves. Without a doubt, the unborn have no voice and they have wronged no one. More next week!

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Sanctity of Life Part I
Life is precious: life is sweet. It’s a gift from God. He made us with a curious nature so we keep trying to figure out how He does it. We dissect and analyze. We observe and record our findings and see that He does it, but we just can’t figure out how to do it ourselves. We can make the conditions right for life, but we can’t make the life. We plant seeds in the dirt and we make babies, but how to start without the potential for life and create life ourselves eludes us. It’s one of the last great mysteries. It occupies our attention so much that songs, sermons, books and laboratories are devoted to it. Life! The richest would give all they have for one more day of it. Some squander it away; and some always seem to be struggling through it. I think it is best lived by innocent children. Suspicion and doubt has not yet crept up on them. The demands of life don’t clutter their minds. They can hold a firefly and all of their thoughts can be on the mystery of how it’s done. They get to watch the starts at night and the night lasts forever.

It’s true that my views about this world are not practical. I wish for more than will ever be real. I wish Communism would work. I wish everyone’s heart was so good that we could all be trusted. I wish we would all do our best, help those less fortunate, and have no selfish hidden motives. I wish there were no wars, everyone had plenty to eat, and at night everybody went to a home where love prevails.

But we are fallen. Our first parents rebelled against the One who made us, and there’s been trouble in the world ever since. The second Adam was Jesus, and He came to restore what the first Adam destroyed. But, like the first Adam and his wife Eve, we get to choose; and many are choosing not to accept the forgiveness and healing Jesus is offering. So this world continues in its’ brokenness. Among the things we fail to see (or refuse to see) is the sanctity of life.

Everybody has some sort of philosophy of life. The way we approach life is determined by somebody’s principles. If you ask yourself how in the world the Nazis of WWII could be so cruel and heartless, it’s because you’re not looking at it from their philosophy. If you knew and accepted their philosophy, then everything they did made sense and is acceptable. Hitler studied, believed, and tried to put to practice the philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche. I studied Nietzsche in college, and basically here’s what he believed. There is no moral right or wrong – which precludes that there is no God. Domination belongs to those who can do it. Essentially, he believed as Darwin. Those who are the most fit will survive. Since there is no right or wrong, then to survive and dominate by whatever means necessary is O.K.

Recently there was a shooting at the Holocaust Museum. Among the things the police found at the home of the murderer was a book that attempted to prove the Holocaust to be a lie. Down through the decades since WWII, those with Nietzsche’s philosophy have tried to convince us that what happened really didn’t happen. Are they liars? Well, to them that’s not an issue to even bring up. To them, there’s no moral wrongs or rights, so it comes down to this – can they convince you to believe them? If you believe them, then they win, and that’s all that really matters.

It’s amazing to see the elaborate plan Hitler had for dehumanizing the Jews. In the Jewish concentration camps, there was a search going on. They were to find Jews with misshapen heads, long arms, big hands, short legs, and long feet. And they didn’t all have to be on one person. But the guidelines were very specific. If they found a Jew with a big or misshapen head, they were to kill him or her in a way that did no damage to the head. And the same with all the rest! Someone with big feet was t be killed without damage to the feet. And the story just gets worse. The flesh was to be removed without any evidence that it had been manually removed. The skeletal remains were to look like someone who had died of natural causes. The documentation put together by Nazi Drs and Scientists was discovered after the war. They were doing something to give the bones the appearance of age and burying them in places where they intended to excavate. Their intent was to dig up those bones, declare they had made an archeological find and proceed to try to convince us all that the remains were of Jewish ancestors. They intended to depict them as a subhuman race. If they are subhuman, maybe like a monkey, then perhaps we wouldn’t mind if they killed them.

We might tend to think of them as sorry sons-of-bitches, but remember; they were approaching life from Nietzsche’s perspective. They had rejected God and any biblical principles. They had no room for love or compassion or mercy. Those are Christian principles and in their thinking, you can’t dominate with those beliefs. The only thing that mattered to those Drs and Scientists was – could they pull it off? It didn’t matter that it was a conspiracy and a lie. The important thing was to make people believe it. If it was believed, then they were overcoming and dominating by whatever means necessary. If they could have done it, then they could have taken pride in the fact that they created a lie so convincing that everyone fell for it. And that would be victory.

Well, like normal, this will require more than one entry. If I go too long, you might not read it all. So more next week!

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

The Secrets To My Success
Well, OK, here’s the truth. I haven’t figured out anything new or profound. The secrets to my success are really the secrets to most everybody’s. I’m kind’a like a honeybee. I don’t make any pollen; I just collect it wherever I find it. All my life I’ve listened to people like Paul Harvey and Billy Graham and Hale Shadow. The things they said and did looked like the truth, so I figured it would work for me also.

Hale Shadow was one of the kindest men I ever met. When my family & I lived in Ruston, LA, I worked for him. He owned the Coca Cola Company there. He was a very rich and busy man, but somehow he managed to have time to call me into his office just so we could talk. I remember one day he told me, “The secret to my success is that I’m like a postage stamp – I stick to one thing.” And Coca Cola was absolutely all the business he had in life. He worked hard in the church he attended, but that was not business. Now, the business was not just Coca Cola. He handled all the Coca Cola products. They had Coke, Sprite, Mr. Pibb and Tab. Just personally, I thought Tab was a most wretched drink. To this day I never have figured out how people could manage to pour that stuff down their throat. Still, there were a lot of people who like it. Then they also had a gift shop with all kinds of Coca Cola memorabilia. But he wasn’t into Am Way or real-estate or anything else. It was all the Coca Cola business.

From watching Mr. Shadow, and lots of others, I figured out that for me, guitar building had to be all or nothing. I wanted it to be the main thing I did, and I could see that it was so demanding that it would have to be the only thing I did. There are some other luthiers who are wood workers in general. Some have construction companies or are cabinet builders. When nobody was wanting a guitar built, they could fall back on something else for an income.

And that brings me to something else that contributes to my success – Fear! I have always know that if Piccadilly Cafeteria had not phased out its maintenance department, I’d be right there today still talking about how I was going to go into business for myself one day as a guitar builder. Fear makes me tend to play it safe in life. And I don’t think I’m a freak of nature. A lot of what we do revolves around the fact that we are afraid. The children of Israel said they preferred slavery to the fear of the unknown. The promised land was waiting, but they were ready to go back to Egypt because they were scared. I can understand that. I was scared out of my mind that we would lose the house, and that drove me to get up early and work hard until late at night. You take fear out of the picture and there’s a lot of us who won’t see the point in trying to get our asses in gear. We’ve all heard about great leaders who destroyed bridges and burned ships so their men could see there was no playing it safe or going back. It was literally do or die.

Another key ingredient is work. Paul Harvey had a whole broadcast devoted to work, and it got played several times. He said a lot of us see work as a four-letter word. For some reason some folks despise work. And then there are always those who are trying to figure out how to get the rewards of work without doing the work. Some never come to terms with how this flesh and blood world operates. You’re not going to be driving around and find some nice house just sitting there empty, with no owner, and up for grabs. The reason there is any house anywhere is because somebody worked. I have a nephew who continues to live in squalor because he is still waiting for somebody to come along and give him a house. It’s good for us all to learn early in life that if we want something we’re going to have to work for it. Those who try to get it any other way end up on the street, or in jail or in the graveyard.

The Almighty has blessed my business. He helps me to understand what needs to be done and He helps me to remember to be careful. As a result, I’ve never let my shop burn down, and I still have all of my fingers. But, He has never come up into my shop and told me to take a break while He builds a guitar for me. That’s my job – so I work! Billy Graham said some preachers have the idea that he (Billy Graham) is more gifted than the rest. But, Mr. Graham says he believes that he just works harder.

In an article I read where some big name luthiers were being interviewed, they all agreed on how to succeed as a builder – don’t quit! They said most who quit don’t do so because their instruments are of poor quality. They give it up because they get tired of the poverty. Patience and money gets thin because they all found it takes 15-20 years to become known and make a living at it. But they said if you can just make yourself continue everyday, then one year you will finally break even and eventually make money.

So there’s what most of us have found out to be the truth when it comes to succeeding at anything. If you want to get there, then whatever you want has to be your one thing. You won’t be good at anything if you try to go in every different direction. If it’s worthwhile and you commit to it, then there’s going to be a fear factor involved. If you can drive the fear instead of letting it drive you, then it will work to your advantage. You gotta work at it, and work hard. You can’t dream about it or wish it into reality, and nobody else is coming to do it for you. If it’s your passion, then do it yourself. And don’t quit. If you give up, you’ll be able to satisfactorily explain your decision to everybody except for yourself. You’ll always know that your failure didn’t have to be. Few of us ever get pushed to the breaking point. Poverty, time, hell man, just plain boredom will make us decide to quit. But you’ll always know that you really could have gotten up the next day and kept going if you hadn’t decided to quit.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Talking Back
Mike is a friend of mine who lives in Nashville, well, for right now. Since he and his wife don’t have children, they get to be bona fied gypsies. Years ago Mike told me I needed some sort of personal section on my site. And that’s how my diary entries came to be. I’m never sure if anybody is reading, but it makes me feel a whole lot better to say what’s on my mind. I love it when folks talk back to me, and every now and then somebody does. So let me share with you some of the things folks have said about what I said.

Steve has caught up with me on several occasions concerning my entries. Back when I posted the entry called, “Trapped” he had this to say.

I love your journal: it makes me think. Today, I'm reflecting on those traps people fall into. Sometimes we blame the trap for being so enticing, sometimes we blame the trapper for setting it out and sometimes we blame the trapped person for allowing himself to be trapped in the first place.
Still, there is always a way of escape even for the worst trap. When we fall into a deep hole, trapped by our desire and temptation, we can find a way out. There's the world's way out- debt management services, hypnosis, Alcoholics Anonymous- and they do a great job but they don't deal with the root problem of our sinful nature that made us want something that could ensnare us.
God has a better way out and when He does the healing, it's permanent. When I find myself in a pit of my own making, I tell God I am sincerely sorry for my sin that led me there and he throws me a life-line. I've been in a lot of traps in my life but I haven't found one yet that God couldn't get me out of. His arm is never too short.

Later, when I started my long stream of complaints about things going on in the church that I don’t like, Steve had this to say about money.

You've hit a nerve but it's thankfully not the whole story.
Believers are a mixed group. The only thing you have to do to get into the club is agree that you are bad and accept Christ's gift of grace. Some folks are content to stay bad, that's everywhere.
Times are tight everywhere. If someone takes a check for mowing the grass or cleaning the church, I'm not too concerned about it. Maybe it shouldn't be that way, but it's just money and maybe they need it for their family. I know the guy who mows my churches grass. He started when his father in law got too sickly to do it. They don't advertise the fact they do it and it's not in any church publication- they just do it and they don't take a dime for it, either. I'm sure they'll both get a big payoff in the hereafter.
Our pianist used to get a check for her work. For awhile, she spent it - she earned it, after all. Then for many years, she just signed it back over to the church. That became extra work for the church treasurer so now she does it for the glory of God and gets no check. She's not a wealthy lady, either- she's a stay at home mom of 4 in her 30s. I'm sure the check would come in handy.
Our pastor takes a salary and does the job full time. No where in his contract does he have to spend time every night of the week in meetings, attend every birthday party of the congregation, and visit the sick every single day- members, friends of members, people he has heard about. Many times have I heard folks say that he visited them more than their own pastor. I don't worry about the size of his check. As a member, I have access to the amount but it's not that big.
Our church gives to lots of missionaries, foreign and domestic. We sent quite a few as well. They all seem to know what it means to be accountable. With the computer, we get instant updates on what is going on.
We've also got a guy who runs a soup kitchen at our church every week for nothing. He coordinates people to come in and help him out. He is so into Christ it inspires everyone he knows. He's another guy who is a real inspiration- he's been so hurt on the job he has had long periods of not working, but he keeps finding work to do. It never seems to pay much, but he rejoices for what he has instead of complaining. His wife is constantly in and out of the hospital and he keeps getting his own health problems. He's not some old guy that has gained wisdom toward the Lord- he's in his forties and he's been this great guy for like 10 years now. Before adversity hit him, he was not like this at all.
I've just painted a few true life pictures from my church, which is not perfect. We've got our share of selfish folks, too. Still, there are some who shine forth Christ so brightly. The world loves to point at hypocrites in the church and tell us all what fatheads they are. Satan is always telling people about these folks. Sometimes, it helps to stand back and look at the people who are really trying to work out their faith with fear and trembling. I'll bet you know a few, too.

And then concerning Masons in the church he said,

You really hit a nerve this week. We had a church 100th anniversary a few years back and I noticed there were tents being used with the name of the Shriners on it. I went to the board of Deacons and raised the issues and problems with freemasonry.
Our church was filled with freemasons. We had them on the deacon board. I bought books and read them and explained the problem in layman's terms to whomever I could. We formed a committee with the pastor (who hates making waves), the youth pastor (whose Dad is a Mason) and an ex-mason (who was unwilling to confront masonry). I got the chairman of the Board of Deacons to join the committee, too. He's a man of God and he was a tremendous support.
We put together information packs for deacons. The pastor and I talked to the Deacon who was a Mason off-line to explain how it offers an alternate form of salvation. He never returned. The pastor prepared a very watered down sermon that identified masonry as a cult.
After the sermon, we had people get mad and a few even left. A man whose brother was a deacon confronted me about legalism. He later read through the stuff and talked to his brother one on one and his brother threw his Masonic ring away and never went back.
One older gentleman (in his 80s) who has been every kind of Mason you could imagine was livid at me. He would always talk to me about Catholicism- I was raised Catholic but I left 35 years ago. He finally took it to the Lord and read up on Masonry and he left the masons for the honor of Christ. He even told the lodge why.
I'm sorry that standing up for Jesus has caused you pain, but I rejoice that you have a backbone. If we hadn't confronted and educated some men on freemasonry, they would not have left the masons.
For those afraid to confront freemasonry, I feel your pain. They are a very vindictive and angry group. My experience is to be on your guard for every kind of attack up to and including rumors, gossip and violence if you challenge this lie of Satan. It is very ugly and it requires a strong spiritual response. Always approach this one with prayer and as much as possible with a fellow believer with you.

In a recent entry called “Sometimes I Just Gotta Say It”, I blew off a lot of steam. Dr. Luke is a man I’ve had the privilege to build several instruments for, and he got me to restore a couple of old instruments. Now, I always work and pray with equal enthusiasm when I’m building an instrument. But I gotta tell you, I’ve been especially scared on a few occasions. Several times I have built for other builders. I’m neither the best nor the worst, but I fit somewhere in that broad in between category. Dr. Luke’s mom is a retired Luthier, so I knew that he knew what a handmade instrument should be like. Here is what he had to say, and I gotta tell you, it felt good to read what he had to say.

I've got baby pictures to prove that you actually made my 3 instruments. I can see each of them in all the steps of building, curing, shaping, putting together. I don't need those pictures for "evidence" because I know your character. Still, I love to look at them from time to time. I'm the son of an instrument maker and I can testify to your work. No question about it.
Another proof of an instrument being hand made (as opposed to being rebuilt or decorated) is the sound maturing with time. All 3 of my instruments started out sound good, but matured as the finish cured in the next three months just as you told me it would. After that, they all sounded fantastic. They stayed fantastic after that.
I have told friends just last week, that I would rather have an Elloree mandolin than a Gibson. It's a personal preference but I love this little baby that much. When I pass away some day, I hope someone special will use it to praise God.

Allen is a long distance friend, but years ago we used to go to church together. When you meet him, you’ll never forget that your paths crossed. He’ll leave you amazed or shocked, or wondering “What the hell?” He’s the author of one of my favorite books, “Beer Man and Soda Man”. In my entry “A Little Good News” I mentioned Bob Carlisle and his song, “Butterfly Kisses”. Allen said,

Butterfly Kisses made me cry every time I heard it on the radio. I solved the problem. I turned the radio off whenever it came on.
That song came out the day Jennifer was married and I heard it right afterward. When Jennifer married she was just gone....
I have gotten over it, of course, but I had better never hear that song again.

Well, others have had things to say, but this entry has gotten long enough. So perhaps on another day I’ll let folks talk back some more.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Dirty Laundry Part VI -- Manipulators
There are two kinds of wisdom: the wisdom of God and the wisdom of this world. Actually, the Almighty made both kinds, but each requires a different mindset. Both are good and needed. Without a doubt, the wisdom of God trumps the wisdom of this world. My daughter and I love to work in the dirt. Among gardeners we declare anything to be a weed if it is out of place. It might not be poison oak; it might be an azalea, but if it’s not where we want it to be, then it’s just a weed and it’s got to go. Both kinds f wisdom have their place, but you put them where they don’t belong and all you got is a weed.

There are several reasons I don’t like Communism. One is because it’s based on a theory that just won’t work. The idea of “from each according to his ability, and to each according to his need” sounds good, but it fails to take something into account. This is a fallen world. I don’t want to give the impression that Karl Marx was some gun ho man of God, because indeed he was not. But he had way too much confidence in the heart of man. I really do dig the idea of everybody in the world working hard, treating others with kindness, sharing and giving, and in general just living a quiet and peaceable life. But that’s not the way the world goes. The heart of man is such that many have to be forced to do the right thing. Our nature is basically a selfish one, and a wisdom that allows for that is what will work best.

In other words, the lazy man will not work if he knows somebody else will feed him. The man who wants to work so he can have something is discouraged from working if he knows the fruits of his labors will be taken from him, and given to the lazy man. For Communism to work, the hearts of men would have to be changed.

In the wisdom of this world, there has to be bosses and employees or nothing would ever get done. There has to be rewards and punishments. Without time clocks and the threat of being fired, people would rarely get to work on time. Without speed limit signs and fines, more people would drive as they please and more folks would get hurt or killed. Some have to lord over others or there would be no stability in this world. Even though dictators are often cruel, they are better than anarchy.

The wisdom of God is a great mystery to those who are led by the wisdom of this world. Jesus took 12 men with Him and He taught them by what He said and what He did. On the night of His crucifixion Jesus did something His disciples couldn’t figure out until later on. He got down on the floor and washed their feet. And I guess this was the last lesson He taught them before He went to the cross. Here’s my paraphrase of what He told them. “I know you can’t figure this out right now, but you’ll get it later. You say I’m your Lord and you are right. So I’m showing you how to rule in the Kingdom of God. If you want to be great and powerful in the Kingdom, then be a servant. Now this is not the way it’s done in the wisdom of the world. In the world, there are bosses and they rule over the employees. But in the Kingdom of God, the way to the top is by serving. I am the Son of God and I made this world. I could have come here to rule over it, but I came as a servant to lay down my life and buy back mankind.”

These 2 kinds of wisdom are so opposite and they just can’t be reconciled. Jesus said you have to die to live; you have to give to get; lose to win; be broken to be made whole; kneel down to get lifted up. Those who follow the wisdom of the world can’t figure out the wisdom of God. Those of us who follow Jesus can see both sides clearly, because we walk in two worlds. We are in this world and passing through it, so we see and understand what this world is about. But we are on our way to another world where our citizenship really lies.

We have the wisdom of both worlds in us and that often causes us problems. History shows that anytime a group of people gather, there’s somebody, or some bodies, wanting to take control and rule over that group. And the church has not been an exception to that rule. I love to hear an honest hard working preacher even if he might not have a Masters in Bible. A man (or woman) who loves Jesus and studies the Bible can have a powerful presence in the pulpit. Too many times I’ve found myself in a church service where the preacher and other leaders looked an awful lot like Wall Street tycoons. And, honest to God, I felt like part of a herd that was being driven by those in charge. I could tell there was an agenda and the leadership needed our money and labors to get where they wanted to be.

The wisdom of the world works, but it has no place in the church. When it’s in the world it’s OK, but in the church it’s nothing but a weed. People who come to church have been pushed and shoved and beat up all week as they have lived and worked in a world that is driven by that wisdom. They want and need something different. We used to refer to our meeting-houses as sanctuaries, and for a good reason. They were shelters from the storms of life. One day out of our hurried week we could come together and get bandaged up. We could sing and pray and hear some good preaching. The wisdom of the world was looking to get hold of us again on Monday; but on that day and in that place we could find help and hope.

In our attempt to look relevant and accessible, I think we have let ourselves get too overrun with weeds. I think too many folks on the outside see us as more of the same old hassle and hustle they’ve been enduring all week long. My son is checking out a church that meets in a movie theatre. A friend of mine goes to a church that has been meeting for several years in a big old tent. The wisdom of this world tells us to look successful. Jesus says He’ll never hold me responsible for successfulness. He wants faithfulness out of me. As we walk through this world, we should attract people to come and follow. And they can’t be manipulated by the wisdom of this world. They will only see their need as we live by the wisdom of God.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Dirty Laundry Part V -- Mandates
In between getting irritated and saddened by things that often go on in Jesus’ Church, I sometimes get a laugh out of the nonsense. The Almighty gave us 10 Commandments (and we proved we can screw up every one of them) and Jesus added one thing to those 10. He said to love: love God and love people. Even though it’s hard to keep the Big 10 and love everybody, we can at least wrap our minds around the sensibleness of it all. I mean, nobody has to tell me it’s wrong for somebody to steal what’s mine. So I ought to have the good grace not to take what’s not mine. The same thing goes for all the rest: adultery, killing, lying. Since I don’t want it done to me, I don’t need to do it to somebody else. And to love makes good sense also. Love is what will make me want to treat others right. If I love a man, I’m not going to try to take his wife or his lawnmower.

But I don’t think I know of a denomination that’s content with the Word of God. Each group is noted for the additional mandates they have. And here’s the humorous part. The additional requirements that denominations put on their members are not found in the Bible, but they will fight to the bitter end to defend their mandates. Each group feels like all other groups have frivolous rules, but believe that their group is right on track with their requirements.

The Church or Christ doesn’t want you to play a musical instrument in church. They play their instruments elsewhere, but believe it’s a sin to do it in church. I have a friend who is Church of Christ and he tells me music in church is an issue of salvation. Well, I don’t understand all of the religious talk that goes on in the various churches, so I told him I had no idea what he was talking about. He told me they believe if you want to play music in church, that is a clear sign that you are going to hell. Yikes!!! It’s obvious the Church of Christ has a hell prepared for a boy like me.

We went to the Nazarene Church for a few years, and they would say “a dancing foot and a praying knee are never on the same leg.” I danced while we were there. I sho’ nuf’ danced a lot. Some had me frying in the Nazarene hell and some others let me off the hook. Some said I wasn’t really dancing; I was “marching in the spirit.” OK! Sure! Whatever will keep me out of their hell! And they told me I had to have the second blessing or I was going to hell. They never could describe to me what they were talking about, but they said I better get it. And when I got it, I better not speak in tongues. Well, gosh dog, that presented me with a problem, because the Pentecostals say they got a fire kindled for anybody who doesn’t speak in tongues.

Seems like no matter what I do, I wind myself up in somebody’s heaven and somebody else’s hell. The Southern Baptist will let me dance, but beer will cause you to smoke a turd in the sewers of hell. It’s a good thing I don’t like beer. But it’s easy for me to see how people on the outside can look at us and think we’re all a bunch of raving lunatics. Too many of us are out there claiming we got it all together and badmouthing any group that doesn’t agree with us.

Aside from the fact that my personality really sucks, I think there’s one main reason I’ve been asked to leave so many churches. Most churches want to coral me, and I want to be free. And I don’t mean free to sin and do my own thing. I’m not talking about being free to be a hotshot or freedom from responsibilities. Jesus said He came to set me free and Paul, in the book of Galatians, goes into great detail to warn me not to let anybody bring me back into slavery. Before I started following Jesus, I was in captivity to sin. I don’t really like being held captive. If there’s one thing I’ve learned to be true about the churches that put me out, it’s this: They intend to either coral their members, or cull them out. I just dig the idea of being at liberty to do whatever Jesus puts in front of me to do. Often He has taken me in unconventional directions; folks didn’t know what to make of me, so it wouldn’t be long before they showed me the door. But, truth is, leaving has always been better than the alternative. I could have stifled and submitted and altered, but I would have been miserable. Rich Mullins said, “It’s OK to be lonely as long as you’re free.”

A friend of mine once told me I needed to start my own church. Well, that would be a good way to insure that I wouldn’t be asked to leave. But I like freedom so much I don’t know if anybody would come. Ultimately, I think all the little unimportant mandates give a church snob appeal. I genuinely do believe churches have their list of rules as a way of saying they love Jesus more than the next church. They like to brag about their dos and don’ts that distinguish them from the rest of the pack. Even though it seldom gets spoken, the advertisement goes like this: “We’re serious about following Jesus. Not only do we obey the Bible, we go the extra mile. We got more rules to go by, just to show we love Jesus more that most.”

I like what Augustine said: “Love God and do as you please.” Now that’s one you really gotta think about to get what he meant. If I love God, I’ll obey His Word, and the rest will fall into place.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Dirty Laundry Part IV -- Morality
My friend Mike lives in Nashville, and every once in a while he comes back here to visit. He came by last week and brought me a book. It’s about Rich Mullins. The title is “An Arrow Pointing To Heaven”, and the writer is James Bryan Smith. One thing brought out in the book is how Rick loved the church so much that he would criticize things he felt the church was in error on. It’s probably a bad thing for me to speak of myself in connection with Rich Mullins; as if we were anything alike. I have a hard time getting a hold of abstract theology. What I need is a good example of how biblical truth is to be lived out, and I can follow that good example. Rich was, and continues to be, the example I follow. So here I am being critical of the church. The church belongs to Jesus and I belong to Jesus, so I guess it’s kind of like I’m whipping on myself. And I am too! I’m at least partly to blame for the weeds and unplowed dirt I see in the church.

So here’s a story – it’s a true one. Two churches are located side by side. The different labels on the signs out front don’t really matter. One of the churches has a pastor who is bi-vocational. He preaches and has a landscaping business. They were getting concrete poured. The driver had to make several hauls to get all the concrete there. Everything went well right up to the last load he brought. For a reason that seems to remain a mystery, the driver of the concrete truck lost his mind and drove that big heavy truck across the lawn of the church next door. He left some deep ruts in the lawn, and the preacher of that church threw a flying fit. He called up the concrete company, told them what had just happened, and told them what better happen or there was going to be trouble. The preacher at the church where the concrete was being poured saw what happened, but he did not know about the trouble that was brewing between the other preacher and the concrete company. So this bi-vocational landscaper preacher guy got his crew together and converged on the lawn next door and erased all evidence of the damage done. Then it appears they all went back to what they had been doing before the mishap. And the bi-vocational preacher didn’t even ask to be compensated for what it cost him to use his crew. Well, the concrete company was so impressed that they didn’t charge for that last load of concrete.

And then history took over the way history does. Once something has been done, it gets assigned a place in the past. We can talk about, think about it, turn it this way and that and look at it. We can do anything except change it. It’s now in the eternal record for all to see. And there’s just no getting around the facts – one preacher reminds me of Jesus, and the other reminds me of me.

Those of us who are following Jesus should never say we have it all together, because I John 1 would prove us to be liars. But we ought to at least be able to say like Paul that we are pressing on. The sad truth is that when folks outside the church see us, they don’t see much difference between us and them. I really do think a lot of people on the outside looking in would like to believe us if we could just give them reason to believe. If I am going to say Jesus has changed my life, I’m going to need to prove that claim. Here’s some truth. Whether inside the church or outside, the divorce rate is the same – about 50%. Seems every denomination makes the claim of knowing the Bible better and loving Jesus more. After you get past all the advertisement, we are all people and pretty much the same. In every denomination some preachers commit adultery, and some secretaries steal the money. Our dirty laundry is hanging out there for every unbeliever who comes by and takes a look.

As a boy, I was taught where to go if I was in trouble and needed help. I was told that if I could find a policeman, a teacher, or a preacher, I would be safe. I lost a lot of my innocence as I grew and found that what I was told is not necessarily true. I always expect teachers to deal in truth, and lawmen to uphold the truth. But Christians, and preachers in particular, are entrusted with the eternal word of God. To have it, know it, preach it, and not live it is a terrible crime. There’s a Christian writer whose books I like to read. His name is Warren Wiersbe and he was at one time the pastor of Moody Bible Church. Wiersbe said, “If being a Christian does not make me a better human being, there is something wrong with my Christianity.”

I have a friend in Alberta, Canada. He never even pretends to be a follower of Jesus, but he always reminds me a lot of Jesus. When I get to thinking about what Jesus would look like in everyday life, I think He would look a lot like Greg. Not a lot of hype and sensationalism; just the doing of what’s right. If those of us who claim to be followers of Jesus would do as we are told in the Bible and walk in the life we’ve been given, I think we would look more like Jesus and we would be more believable.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Dirty Laundry Part III Masons - Continued
If you’re not a church going person, then the things I’m saying in this series probably won’t be of interest to you. I’m that way about some things. I don’t care what the Republicans and Democrats are up to. I don’t trust either one. If the Dallas Cowboys are winning or losing, it’s not of any concern to me. But I’m a follower of Jesus, so what happens in our churches is most definitely important to me. And I know I’m talking about some things that should not often be said. It’s too much like airing our dirty laundry. I’ve studied church history a bit and it’s sad to see that we are becoming less and less the salt and light Jesus told us to be. Our President just told the Muslim world they don’t need to see us as an enemy or a threat. He told them the U.S. is no longer a Christian country. Even though I hated to hear him say that, I am not discounting the possibility that he might be right.

There are a lot of termites eating away at the integrity of the Church. I think basically Jesus’ command to the Church breaks down to a few simple things: love and proclaim. I’ll take up the love part on another day. Right now I’m thinking about the proclaiming. He said the Good News is free because He paid the price, and it is to be preached openly to everyone in the world. The Masons go against the grain of Jesus’ command. Nowhere in the Bible are secret societies spoken of kindly. For their own reasons, they are among us in our Churches, and they do us no good! In fact, they do us a great deal of harm.

It’s never been a good thing when I talked with a Mason about the Masons. First of all, they insist that they are good Christian people. I went to my local library and read their official magazine. It’s on the magazine rack for anybody to read. They have some well-kept secrets and they are not talked about in their magazine, “Scottish Rite”, but there’s a lot they do tell. When you first open the magazine, there’s the statement, “We are not a Christian organization.” In the Masonic Encyclopedia, it is said that they want everyone to come and worship at their altar. Also, they say in the Masonic Encyclopedia that they consider Christianity to be a sectarian religion that is petty and divisive. I’m sure there are some Christians in that organization, but it is not a Christian group.

I’m not a Mason, so I don’t know those secrets that are never to be told. But, from what they do make know about themselves, I don’t trust them – not one bit. And there are several reasons I don’t trust them. First of all, they make it known that if you join their group, and advance up enough to know the secrets; you have to promise never to tell them. As a part of the joining ceremony, you agree that if you ever tell the secrets, you give them permission to put you to death. Of course, when you ask them about that, they say they’re just joking. They say they wouldn’t really put someone to death. I’m not convinced. There are cases in our country’s history where a Mason left the lodge, told some of the secrets, and was put to death.

I don’t trust them because they claim to be a religion. They have a high priest, a potentate, and a grand master. They say they actually bow on their knees before the grand master and do some sort of worship thing. I bow my knees to King Jesus only. And they are not content to have their own church houses. They infiltrate the Christian churches and distort the Word of God. And I’ve been to some Masonic funerals. If you didn’t know who they were, but had a good general knowledge about religions, you would swear they were some variety of eastern religion. There was nothing about their ceremony that was Christian.

They talk about their ladder of faith. There are several rungs in a ladder. They say if they climb the rungs, they will get to heaven. The rungs represent their commandments. One of them is to love and show special treatment to other Masons. According to them, their entry into heaven depends on them showing favoritism to their own. Sherry and I absolutely will not vote for a sheriff, or judge, or governor, or president who is a Mason. I don’t want somebody who is under obligation to distort the law for a fellow Mason.

Right now I’m churchless again. I’ve been at a black church for almost 7 years. Even though I’m white, and have no desire to be black, I really liked attending there. I’m not sure how this happened, and I’m not sure why the Almighty allowed it to be hidden from my knowing for almost 7 years. In January of ’09, my preacher got up and announced that he was a very active thirty-second degree Mason. I didn’t know that. I do know there are only thirty-three degrees to being a Mason, and then you evolve into a Shriner. And I can’t remember if it’s the Masons or the Shriners that have the satanic pentagram over the door of their meeting hall. Well, when I found this out, I didn’t think I could stay. Before I left though, I took counsel from several people that I knew were walking close to Jesus. And the consensus was overwhelming. Not only did they think I should leave, but they thought I needed to RUN! So I left, and I’ve never been back. True to what I know about Masons, my preacher has never tried to work things out between him and me. He’s never called or come by or written. The first loyalty of a Mason is the Masons.

And the Mason sympathizer preacher who asked me to leave; he almost destroyed that church before the right people found out and got him to leave. Mormons and Muslims take people away from churches and get them to join their group. That sort of thing seems to get everybody up in arms. But, on any given Sunday, the Masons will come into our Church Houses. They’ll shake your hand and put some money in the plate. They’ll do a lot of things, but there’s some things that they’ll try to keep a secret.

During the middle 1800’s in our country, there was a great revival. That was during the time of the great preacher Charles Finney. That great revival came right after the wholesale public rejection of the Masonic lodge. The Masons trace their roots back to the Druids, and there have been several times in history when the public outcry against them caused them to go underground – for a time. If you want to find out more on this subject, go to the site put together by ex-Masons for Jesus. The address is www.EMFJ.org.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Dirty Laundry Part III – Masons
Years ago a youth leader asked me to go to church camp with her and help keep the teenagers corralled. When I was a boy and went to church camp, things were much different. Camp was rustic to say the least. First of all, air conditioning did not exist. The food was good, but you either had to eat what was put before you or go hungry. So I went to church camp to help this youth leader. There was a choice about everything there. You got to choose what to eat, where to sleep, and which classes to take. There were private bathrooms and absolutely everything was air-conditioned. It was a good experience, but I gotta’ tell ya’, it didn’t really feel much like camping.

Even though I went as a worker, and not a camper, and I probably would not have been required to take classes, I thought it might be good for me. So I took a class about cults. The teacher wanted us to know the difference between a denomination and a cult. Just like there are different denominations of money and all of it is legitimate, there are also different church groups, and they are all Christian groups. But, just like there is counterfeit money there are also groups that are not for real followers of Jesus.

The teacher seemed to know the subject. He talked about and let us discuss different groups, and seems most of them started with an “M”. There were Mormons, Muslims, and Moonies. After a couple of days, a big question started to form in my mind about another “M” group that he obviously was not planning to bring up for discussion. So I asked him why we are so worried about the Mormons and Muslims when our churches are absolutely saturated with and overrun by Masons.

The teacher’s name was Allen – can’t remember his last name. But he was a good guy. He didn’t try to bullshit us about things he didn’t know, and he seemed to be very forthcoming concerning all of our questions. When he answered my question, his honesty shocked me. He said he was afraid of Masons, and you can never tell who among you might be a Mason, or who might be the friend or family member of a Mason. He said we all know the truth about Mason, but we just don’t bring it up.

We all have our strong points and we have our weaknesses. Without a doubt, the Almighty has gifted me to be able to make a pretty good stringed instrument. But my church life – it’s not good. I have been asked to leave 6 different churches over the years. In one way or another I have found myself on the bad side of the church leaders, and it didn’t take them long to let me know I was not welcome there anymore.

We were in one church where the preacher decided it was time to move on and take another church. Baptist churches usually put a pulpit committee together and start searching for a new preacher. What they do is they go out and try to steal the preacher from another church. They go around to different churches on Sunday mornings, hear the preacher do his stuff and then decide if they want to meet with him. If they do like him and meet with him, then they have lots of questions. If the pulpit committee likes the way he answered their questions, then they get him to come preach and meet the congregation. If he gets a good vote, then he’s the new man.

When a Baptist church is without a preacher, then they survive with different fill-in guys. Well, we lived off of fill-in preachers for about a year and a half. That’s a long time. I never asked what the problem was, but one day a man on the pulpit committee broke it down for me. He told me about a woman on the pulpit committee who was married to a man who was a Mason. So when the committee got together with a preacher and started asking questions, she had her one question. She wanted to know if he liked Masons or not. If he didn’t, then she gave a “no” vote. The committee had decided at the beginning that they would not bring a preacher before the congregation unless they were unanimously in favor. It was easy to see by the year and a half wait that the preachers did not like Masons.

Finally, when we got a preacher to come and preach in view of a call, we knew the score. She had found her a preacher who said Masons were OK with him. I was talking with a man at that church about how unhappy I was that we had been held up for such a long period of time while this lady was looking for her Mason sympathizer. It was just him and me talking. He got real mad and told me not to speak the word “Mason” unless I was one. We only talked a couple of minutes more, and I found out that he was a Mason.

Short story is that the church figured they better take this preacher, because they might not ever find another who was comfy with Masons. That new preacher was there for 6-8 weeks before he called me in to let me know he really didn’t want me to be staying there. I thought about it for a few weeks and kept changing my mind about what to do. My final decision was that I didn’t want to fight with anybody, so my family and I left.

Well, I’m not near to being done, so I guess I better put a caboose on this thing and call it the end of the train for now. I’ll finish up next week.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Dirty Laundry Part II – Miracles
I used to travel with Phil. He was a Music Evangelist and I would work the soundboard for him while he sang and played. Working with him took me to some places I would not have gone to ordinarily. I remember once that the church he was playing for wanted to have supper for us before the services began. I’ve been a part time vegetarian for a long time now. The strict vegetarians who like to get all snobby, say I’m not for real. I drink milk; eat cheese; butter and eggs. Even before I started getting away from meat, I was already trying to get away from foods that are clearly bad for me. I stay away from drugs and tobacco, so I figured one good turn deserves another. I started reading ingredient labels and looking out for some of the known health hazards. Well, here we were standing around a table of food & I didn’t think any of it would be good for me: too much fat and grease. And the people who prepared it knew it was unhealthy.

One guy decided he would ask the blessing, and you should have heard him. When he started, he sounded like somebody performing an exorcism. He was praying about binding evil from the food. He rebuked all that cholesterol, salt and fat. I thought he was out of his ever lovin’ mind. And, worse yet, some of the other people standing around the table started saying “Amen” to his prayer. Seems they all knew it was food not fit to be eaten, but there they were calling on the Almighty and trying to get Him to pull a rabbit out of His hat.

There was a preacher who was big in the ‘Roaring 20’s’ and during the ‘Great Depression’, and his name was Billy Sunday. Now doesn’t sound like a nice religious name. “Billy” makes me think of Billy Graham, and Sunday reminds me of Sunday school. Billy Sunday said some people burn their candle at both ends and just before their fire goes out, they want to blow the smoke in God’s face. It’s amazing to see how crowded the churches are with people who knowingly live excessive and abusive lives. And when the wages of doing their own thing start to creep up on them, they want somebody to pray for a miracle.

One day in church a woman told us she had diabetes and high blood pressure, and she wanted God to touch her and heal her. I don’t think she needs a miracle, and I don’t think she’s going to get a miracle. What she needs is discipline: what she needs is to do what she knows she ought. Everybody has a TV; everybody has a radio. We all know what’s bad on us, and what to do about it. Everywhere we turn we’re encouraged to eat right, don’t smoke, and get plenty of exercise.

Seems there’s always one more person trying to get me to commit to praying for healing for some relative who has lung cancer because he’s been smoking for 50 years. Some guy wants us to pray that the Almighty will take away from him the desire to get drunk or high. And I do pray. I pray that the Lord will open people’s eyes so they’ll stop being so stupid. I pray that they will learn responsibility.

The Bible tells us in a lot of places that God has things He is responsible for, and we have things we are responsible for. I can’t do the part that God does. Only He can do it. He won’t do the part He’s given me to do. And it’s just plain laziness on my part to try to get Him to do what I can do for myself. Wouldn’t it be a nice world: wouldn’t it be just the sweetest little world if Jesus would come along and make it so that I’m not mean and cranky anymore? He gave me a free will and I could be kinder to people if I wanted to. But if he would go ahead and take care of it all for me without me having to put forth any effort on my part; well that would be a good thing.

Sometimes I think Christians are some of the worst wimps, and I think those on the outside judge us as being unrealistic. We act like we ought to be praying about everything and waiting on Jesus. I’m not going to stand around and look for manna from heaven. He gave me two strong arms and a good mind so I need to be looking for a job. Then I can go down to the grocery store and buy me some manna. I knew a guy who genuinely loved Jesus. Sadly though, loving Jesus doesn’t necessarily make us smart. He had a poor pitiful little income, and he and his wife kept having more children. He was always smiling and happy, and talking about how God was blessing him and his family. I don’t think he ever figured out what a financial burden he was on all of us who were trying to keep his children from going hungry. He loved the idea of living off the miraculous, and the rest of us made a living off of punching a time clock.

I think those who are not following Jesus see us as people who fall down on our responsibilities and act like Jesus is the rabbit’s foot we carry around in our pockets. Can you see how folks don’t take us very seriously? We go to great lengths to convince people we have something they need. Sometimes we actually come across as know-it-all snobs who belong to some elite group. And we have a catch phrase that’s supposed to cover for all of our screw-ups when we live carelessly – “God will make a way.”

How about if we were to remember that we are people just like everybody else? Even though we’re saved by grace, we still sin and struggle thought this life. How about a little honesty? Maybe we’d have more credibility if we lived more responsibly.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Dirty Laundry Money Part I Continued
Well, I don’t feel like I’m done with this first of six installments of things that worry me in the church. And I do write all this with great reservation. Even the brainless can grab a sign and march and shout and throw rocks. I don’t want to give the impression that I dislike the church, because the truth is I love it. I don’t love it as much as Jesus, because He died for it. Oh, my goodness! This is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever undertaken to write. If I can get it said the way I actually think it; I think that in itself might border on being a miracle.

People often use Jesus as their paying gig. They don’t really have a heart for the Almighty, but it sure is an easy way to make some money. There was a Christian rock singer I used to listen to. I won’t call his name. He came from this big Southern Gospel singing family. He said his dad sang gospel music all his life, but didn’t even start following Jesus ‘till he was in his 60’s. He said it was just the way his dad made his money. He could do it, and people would pay to hear him do it. He said they were careful not to let his dad speak on stage, because there was no telling what he might say. And once, a civic group brought his dad to town for a concert. They had agreed on the price, but after the concert they refused to pay. His dad literally beat these men up and took whatever money they had in their pockets.

Jesus told a story once. He said that the Shepherd loves the sheep. The hired hand – well, he’s just there because he’s getting paid to do it. So he puts in his hours and collects the check. But the hired hand, Jesus said, is not looking to make any sacrifices for the good of the sheep. So when wolves come to eat the flock, the hired hand decides he didn’t sign on for all this, and he splits. The Shepherd, however, will fight off the wolves even if it kills him. So you got some people who genuinely love the Lord and are called by God to preach or teach, or sing, or whatever. And then there are those who are looking for employment. And I gotta tell ya, at first glance, it’s hard to tell the difference between the two.

The man who is called by God needs money just like everybody else. He’s giving his time and energy for the love of Jesus, but he still has a light bill to pay. The hired hand predominately sees the money and is constantly looking for ways to get his hands on more of it. I don’t know if there are more hired hands than those called by God, or if the hired hands just make more noise. But we are always hearing about how somebody has hoodwinked people out of their money in the name of Jesus.

My brother-in-law used to go to a Catholic Church. Some of the best books I’ve read were written by Catholics, and I truthfully don’t have problems with the Catholic denomination. My brother-in-law finally told his local priest he and his family needed to leave. He said he was tired of seeing his money going toward lawsuits. Instead of using the offerings for ministry, too much of it is being used to satisfy the demands of those who have been molested by priests.

Sherry & I used to go to a Southern Baptist Church. It was amazing to see how they could funnel money in any direction they wanted to, and do it in the name of Jesus. The youth wanted to go hang out on the beach. The youth leader convinced the church that they wanted to go to the beach to tell people about Jesus. And gosh dog! The church bought his story. And you should have seen all the adults who signed up to be chaperones. Even though I didn’t go, I was curious to know how many of those horny 16-year old boys were actually talking to the naked girls on the beach about Jesus. And then there was a time when some wanted to go to Six Flags. They found out there was going to be a Christian band there, and they talked the church into footing the bill on the basis of the Christian music.

For a while I traveled with a music evangelist. I liked his style. He’d go and sing anywhere he was asked and for what they could afford. He played sometimes for no pay, and at other times the folks treated him kindly. I remember this one place he sang and played. It was some sort of extreme charismatic church. They had the laying on of hands and folks would fall out in the aisles. The part that really shocked me was how the visiting preacher supplemented his income. Not only were they taking an offering for him, but he came stocked with some little bottles of blessed oil of some variety, and he sold them for $50.00 a bottle. There were maybe 2 ounces of oil in each bottle. One poor desperate woman had an automobile that was about to quit on her and she didn’t have the money to pay a mechanic to repair it. So she bought one of those bottles of oil and anointed her car. I didn’t have the heart to ask her how it turned out.

I have felt for a long time now that we all should handle our churches the way the Amish and the Mennonites do. They have no paid clergy or staff. There are no monetary attractions to the preaching ministry in those churches. If we could get rid of the allure of easy money, I do believe a lot of the problems in our churches would just vanish like the morning dew. If those of us who claim to be followers of Jesus would actually follow the example of Jesus, then I’m certain more folks would be attracted to Him. Jesus never hustled people for money and He spoke the Good News without pay. A great reproach would be removed from our churches if we could get rid of that money problem.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Dirty Laundry Money -- Part 1
I love Jesus. I guess I need to say that at the outset. If I don’t make it clear, then by the time I’m done with this six part series, you’ll think I hate the Almighty. Jesus called my name when I was 17, and He offered me life. It wasn’t the first time He called my name, but this time I accepted His offer. I’ve traveled a far piece since that day when Jesus came and got me and made me one of His own. Down through the decades I’ve said that if my walk with Jesus had been based on my dealing with some who claim to be friends of Jesus, then, I would be an atheist. Keith Green said it this way, “If you’ve been burned, here’s what I’ve learned; the Lord’s not the one to blame”.

I’m about to make a lot of complaints about the Christian church. And I have to be careful. The church belongs t Jesus. He even refers to the church as His bride. Sherry & I will tell each other what we don’t like about one another, but I don’t want somebody to come and bad mouth my wife to my face. So I don’t want to get in trouble with Jesus over this. And I don’t want to give the impression that I’m wise because of my complaints. My dad used to tell me any fool can spot a problem and rant about it. But, it takes a wise man to figure out the answer to the problem. Jesus set up the church to be His representation on earth, and I feel like talking about some things that I think cause Jesus to be misrepresented.

Sometimes I think people outside the church can make a better assessment about it than those of us on the inside. I genuinely believe too many of us church goers can’t see the forest for the trees. We rarely step back and ask ourselves what the hell is going on. We’ve done what we’ve done for so long that we don’t think to question it. Truth is; we are often made to think that we aren’t supposed to question.

The first thing that troubles me in the American church is money. Christians in other countries who are familiar with the workings of the American church say money is of the most importance to us. We have buildings set aside especially for Sunday services. And those buildings are never big enough. The common practice in other countries is to meet in homes. That sort of thing is not impressive enough for us. And we do intend to impress as much as we can afford to.

We all complain these days about the extravagance and wastefulness of the government, but those Washington boys are no worse than the church leaders. If you ever want to be shocked and disillusioned, find out the truth about where the hard earned money goes after it goes into the offering plate. There’s nothing the congressmen, and Senators do that’s not also done in churches. There’s waste and mismanagement. There’s diversion and outright thievery. There’s never enough because there’s never going to be enough. The congregations are continually being guilted into giving more and more because more and more people are making the church their livelihood. We’ve come a long way from the teachings of Jesus and Paul. Jesus was a carpenter, and He preached for free.

The preachers dress like they’re ready for Wall Street, and you can accept it or not, but in the church the Gold Rule applies. The ones with the gold make the rules. In the book of James we are warned about sucking up to rich folks. It’s shocking to see the number of times a rich person has come into a church and essentially bought the church. Now there was an occasion when Jesus sent a rich guy away because his heart was not in the right place. If Jesus would have tried something like that today, the deacons would have called a meeting and put his ass in the road before nightfall. I’ve seen the rich throw money at the church along with their list of demands, and they got what they wanted.

If a church is doing it right, then the money ratio should be 25/75%. 25% should go to paying for the building and salaries. The other 75% should go to outreach. Try to find yourself a church with even a 50/50% split. There was a time when we paid the preacher a little something. Everybody helped the preacher out as much as they could, and generally he had a job somewhere. But, the preacher has become a professional and they barter with different churches until they think they’ve gotten the best deal. And when people started dipping into the church money, it looked like a bunch of piranhas. There are not many who will do anything at church anymore for the love of Jesus. If a person vacuums, or mows grass, they want money. If somebody is going to keep the babies for an hour on Sunday, somebody better cut a check. Leading the youth or choir or whatever! And time fails me for being able to beat up on the money hungry televangelists and traveling salvation shows.

The Good News is still free. Jesus paid it all. But you can bet; if somebody could find a way, they would require money before we could get to heaven. Shame on us!

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Trapped
Back when I was carnivorous I was always out there hunting or fishing. We’d hunt anything and in any way possible. Sherry & I first lived in a mobile home when we got married. That mobile home was way out in the woods and right next to a dairy. Man oh Man! We had deer and raccoons and rattlesnakes. There were foxes and bobcats, rabbits and squirrels. I couldn’t get in enough hunting time so I decided to do a little trapping also. You should have seen me. It looked just like something the Beverly Hillbillies would do. I dug a deep hole and covered it loosely with small sticks and straw. Then above it I dangled an ear of corn. But wait! There’s more! I set my rod and reel up in our humble little mobile home and opened a window enough to run the line out. I led the line all the way out to my trap, hung it over a limb, and tied the ear of corn to it. One night we came in and the rod and reel had done slid across the floor. Hot diggity dog! I got the flashlight and went out to get my catch. Well, I guess I didn’t dig the hole deep enough. Old Rocky Raccoon scratched and clawed his way back out of the hole, and got away.

There are a couple of things I’ve learned about traps over the years, and they have everything to do with the way we set a trap for animals. One thing I figured out is that there has to be deception involved. And it has to work two ways. You have to hide the danger. That’s why I put the sticks and straw over the hole. I guess a goofy animal might walk right into an open hole, but most won’t.

I had to go to the doctor a few weeks ago. There’s a big difference between playing a guitar and building a guitar. A man can lean against an old oak tree, listen to the birds and wind, and pick out a tune. But, building is nothing but a hard labor job. And every once in a while I overdo it and break the body down. That nurse gave me, not one, but two shots in the hiney butt. They were both painkillers, and they sure worked well. It was a good thing Sherry drove me there, because I could not have driven home. I just barely got back to the truck. I told her later that it’s a good thing they got those drugs on the prescription list. It didn’t take me but a minute to figure out that I had found a friend.

I’ve never had a drug or alcohol addiction, but I’ve heard from some who referred to it as a trap. At the outset they didn’t see the danger. All they could see was that they got high or mellow, or whatever. Since I’ve never been trapped in this regard, I’m saying more than I actually know. Seems it starts out with a lot of benefits, but folks don’t see the danger. The craving kicks in and they tend to need more and more to get the desired effect. I’ve seen enough drunks and addicts to know it turns them into somebody that they didn’t used to be. They seem to be single minded. Only one thing really matters, and that’s feeding the addiction. I’ve seen people lose their jobs and families, and it really destroys a person’s health. One day, at least some wake up and see they’ve fallen into a trap and can’t get back out. It all looked good to start with because they didn’t see the hidden danger.

Generally, people just fall for the bait. That’s how I convinced the coon to fall into the hole I dug; I hung an ear of corn up there. And you don’t just drop an empty hook in the water! The fish will see the danger and he won’t see anything he’s attracted to. Near ‘bout anything can be bait; it depends on what you’re trying to catch. Rabbits, ducks, and deer won’t all fall for the same bait. People are the same way. Whatever I crave can be used as bait to catch me. To be humans and have a lot in common, we sure are a diverse lot. Some of us crave acceptance, and others want to be left alone. There’s food and sex and power. I know folks who have fallen for “get rich quick” scams. They want a lot of money and everything revolves around getting it. People who are looking to trick and trap other people will throw out different baits to catch whoever is attracted. And you know; I like it all. I don’t want people to throw rocks at me. I like being accepted. Food and I go way back, and I love getting’ jiggy with my girl. I’ve been poor and I really didn’t like it; so I like having some money.

I think this whole idea of being trapped has to do with what we crave. What is it that we want and we would risk everything for that one thing. There’s a salesman out there looking to find my craving. He might be calling to me from the TV, or he (or she) might be standing on the street corner. And don’t be fooled. The enemy of our souls is a great salesman, probably the greatest. And when we get trapped by him, we are trapped sho’ ‘nuf. Even though I’m made in the image of God and can make choices; if I choose to let my cravings control me, then I’m reducing myself to the nature of animals. And if somebody comes along and traps me, I only have myself to blame.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Sometimes I Just Gotta Say It!
Now you know it’s only been a few weeks since they laid my man Paul Harvey to rest. And I don’t want to give the appearance of having quickly forgotten the things he taught me. One thing he often said was that you don’t make yourself look good by bad mouthing somebody else. Even though it’s a very common way to advertise, he said it was a poor way. At some point we have to say what’s good about our product, and why a person should give up their money for it. February 2009 made 16 years that I have been building guitars, and I have always tried to live by Paul Harvey’s rule. People often ask me how my guitars compare to Martin, Taylor, or Gibson, and I tell them they don’t compare. A Martin sounds just like a Martin; a Gibson sounds like a Gibson; a Taylor has that distinctive sound of a Taylor; and an Elloree sounds exactly like an Elloree. But every now and then I feel the need to have my say just for the sake of clarification.

A few years ago I went into a hardware store for something I needed in the building of my guitars. They guy who waited on me told me he was also a guitar builder. Then he proceeded to tell me. He said he found an old electric guitar body and he had a guitar neck. He put the two together, painted it, installed the pickups and other hardware, and that makes him a guitar builder.

Sherry & I went to Clarksdale, MS to hear some good blues music. I’m not going to call the name of this local guy who has the fame of being a guitar builder. We were in a restaurant having supper and the proprietor kept going on and on about how great a guitar builder this guy was. And they had one of his guitars on display. After listening to this lady for awhile, I finally told her that guitar looked an awful lot like a Fender Strat. She told me it probably was a Fender. Then she told me he didn’t actually build the guitar, but he did all the decorations on it. And it was decorated indeed. I think the pick guard was leather, and it had rhinestones glued all over it. And because of all the decorating he did, this guy was making the claim of being a guitar builder.

And then just a few days ago, Sherry brought home a newspaper with an article about a guy who says he’s a guitar builder. He says he doesn’t actually have a shop, but he builds in the back of his dad’s appliance repair shop. He claims to be one of only 20 hand builders “out there”. I don’t know if “out there” is supposed to mean in his town, or state, or the world. He claims to make between 100-120 guitars a year, and is selling them for $2,600-$10,000. And in the article, he is leading us to believe that he is actually starting with a piece of wood, and he says he’s doing all the work by himself. Bull Shit! The only way I’d be convinced that any of this was true is if this guy had a cape flapping in the breeze and a big “S” on his chest.

I think that one of the greatest hand builders is James Olsen. He builds for folks like Paul McCartney, James Taylor, Phil Keaggy, and Kathy Mattea. James says he has one person helping him in his shop, and he stays on the job at least as much as I do every week. Mr. Olsen builds 60 something guitars a year, and I’ve heard that they sell for about $7,000. For a couple of years when I hustled as hard as I absolutely could, I built around 75 instruments a year. Trying to keep up that kind of pace was not really practical, and I now build a more manageable 50 instruments a year. I got me a pretty good shop. My shop, in all of it’s various parts, is bigger than my house. And James Olsen’s shop puts mine to shame. I have 5 routers set up for different jobs. I didn’t count them, but it looks like James had 20-30 routers.

Ain’t nobody gonna’ convince me that he’s hold up in the back of his dad’s shop and cranking out 100 guitars a year, by himself, and selling them for up to $10,000. The guys who only build 15-25 guitars a year and sweat the details on each one don’t usually make that much.

Sherry tells me I get too stressed over things like this, and I know she’s right. For me, though, honesty is of utmost importance. In my building, I never claim to have the honored position of being either the best or the worst. I fall somewhere in that big in between area. And there are way more than 20 of us “out there”. There are more than 20,000 of us. Sherry & our son, Stewart, told me that maybe he puts electric guitar kits together. Well, maybe that’s the answer. I don’t call that being a guitar builder, and I don’t think a guy who decorates guitars is a builder. I guess I just expect honesty out of folks. I expect it out of myself.

When I tell people I’m a builder, I make sure to tell them I do all the woodwork. I read about some builders down in Ecuador who make their own glue. I don’t make glue. I don’t wind strings or build pickups. I buy my finish and machine heads and fret wire and straps and gig bags. I do the woodwork. I have an old sawmill that’s a lot like me; old and not much to look at, but still functional. As much as possible, I harvest my own trees. I cut and saw and cure and us a lot of local woods. Not all trees can be had locally, so sometimes I have buy lumber. I build my own fret boards and bridges, cut my own kerfing and bracing, and shape all the necks. If I decorated, I’d say I was a painter. If I found parts and put them together, I’d call myself a salvager. If I put kits together, I’d say I was a kit putter together person. I’ve seen some guitars that claimed to be hand crafted, but you could tell that they were production. I guess I just don’t like deception. When people pay for handmade they are expecting handmade. My hands build every guitar that comes out of my shop. And I don’t mean that my hands turn on the automated equipment that makes the guitars. My hands hold the wood and the saw and sandpaper. My hands get burned, cut, and stabbed. I do it. Mine are not the best the world will ever see, but I don’t want to be grouped together with deceivers and liars. As much as I want my work to be good, I want my word to be good. An old builder once said that if an instrument is alleged to be handmade, you can look at it and tell. There will be knife marks, and imperfections, and other evidences that somebody’s hands actually did it.

Alright, I’m done! And I feel better – for now.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Good News
There’s a local news lady who does radio & TV. I don’t watch much TV, but I do listen to the radio while I work. A few weeks ago she told something that I had suspected for most of my life. She said they don’t really want to make a habit out of reporting good news. Bad news keeps people listening, and they want to have more listeners than the other stations. Since even the news is a competitive business, seems every station tries to out bad the other. So every day starts a new stream of bad news. Just think about what a lucky guy I am. I get to start my mornings by hearing who got thrown in the pokey overnight. I get to hear about all the local stabbings, shootings, children and women who got abused or neglected, the drug busts, altercations with the “po po”, and the list of crimes goes on and on.

When I was a younger man and full of pride, I liked to think of myself as somebody who was unique. The older I get, the better I see that I’m really just a regular guy. So even though our ears perk up when we hear about some terrible, natural disaster, or somebody stealing public funds; it appears that most of us reach a saturation point. Even if we never speak it, we get starved for a little good news. I’m sure that’s the reason for the success of Anne Murray’s song, “A Little Good News”. In the song she talked about the landslide of bad news, and the good things she would like to hear reported. In fact, on one particular morning when the news on the radio was too bad, I called and asked if they could play “A Little Good News.” They told me that didn’t have that song in the studio. Well, of course not!

Here’s a song you either really love or really hate – “Butterfly Kisses.” I hate to have to admit it, but the first time I heard that song, I wept like an ever lovin’ baby. You’d have to be a dad to be able to appreciate this song. It kind of worried me because I don’t want to give the impression that I’m some sort of overly sensitive guy. But I felt better after I watched Bob Carlisle sing that song on Oprah. I’ve never seen Oprah more than 3 or 4 times, but I had to watch it that day, because Sherry & I like Bob Carlisle. You should have seen all the people in her audience who were weeping shamelessly. When he was done, Oprah asked Bob why did he reckon that this song was being so well received. He said he thought people had heard too much bad news and too many mean songs for too long. He figured they were taking it as a breath of fresh air.

I’m thankful the Almighty has a way of coming through with good news just before we completely loose our sanity. The war and the economy and global warmingares like a 50 pound weight strapped to the backs of most of us. Just when we thought we couldn’t bear up under the weight, a big plane landed in the Hudson River. I guess I shouldn’t say “landed”; it’s more like “rivered”. We were all so hungry for good news, and thirsty for a miracle. A kindly lady I went to church with said all those people standing on the wings of that plane looked like little birds on a wire. And everybody got saved. It was good news and we ate it up. We got us a new hero and we were able to undeniably see the hand of God. The news people even kept calling it a miracle. Now it didn’t take the news reporters long to get back to their regular job of scaring the life out of us, but for a couple of weeks we got a break. We were more hopeful and we got to witness how the Almighty can do what we could never guess.

Now there’s good news and then there’s The Good News. There will always be wars and ailments. Money matters will always be like a roller coaster ride. We lose people we love and our cars end up in a junkyard. No matter how bad the news, I can always stop and think about the Best News ever. The Best News is rooted in history. Jesus came and died so bad boys like me could be forgiven and not go to hell. That really is Good News. Mark Lowery said when he gets bumbed out, he reminds himself of the Good News. He said when he’s out of money he says, “It’s not as bad as hell.” If somebody is unkind to him, he says, “Hell is worse.” The Good News makes us feel good. When our present situation is bad, we get to remind ourselves that one day Jesus is coming back to finish what He started. Just before He left to go back to heaven, He said He was going to prepare us a place so He could bring us home to live with Him. When there’s the threat of losing my home, I remember that He won’t ever let anybody evict me from the home He’s building for me. I get to be there with Him forever, and we won’t get sick, and nobody will die. Nobody will get mistreated and we’ll never have to listen to bad news again. Now that’s real Good News.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

The Ride
Rev. Mother, I have sinned. I know we bad mouth people who unload their parents on a nursing home just so they don’t have to be bothered with them. And every now and then you hear about life long friends who have had a falling out. Often, it was not a big problem; but for some reason they couldn’t get past it. Faithfulness and loyalty are some things we come to expect out of people we have been close to for a while. So it was real predictable when I woke up in the middle of the night with guilt just eating me up. The big question that kept me awake was “what have I done?” Sometimes I’ve made a bad move, but I was about to back track, make a different choice and undo the wrong. I was thinking about that as I lay awake.

My dad had been faithful for about 25 years. So without a doubt, I felt like a wimp for giving it up after only 17 years. I’m getting older and nobody told about some of the changes I’d be going through. I guess we all end up enduring things we don’t particularly like; but everyday I was beginning to see things I could not endure anymore. Its not just one thing, but there are lots of things that help people define who I am. Hell man, there’s things that help me define who I am. But at some point I have to stop and think to see if I’m doing something because of compatibility, or if I’m stuck in a rut. And believe me, there’s too many things I’m doing today because I did them yesterday, and the day before. The plain truth is that change scares me. So I put it off ‘til there’s no way around it.

I’m not a high-class person. I’m not even a low-class guy. I’m what they call “no class”, but I still have my ways of being identified. I don’t go places much, but when I do, I generally drive my old truck. As I pass through the neighborhood, people don’t rubberneck to see who’s in that truck. They recognize the truck first and start waving (or shooting me the bird) because they know it’s me. And when I’m in a store, people who know me can recognize me even from behind. I always wear a blue shirt, worn out blue jeans and long hair that I comb sometimes. When they get closer, the smell confirms to them that it’s me.

So get ready because here comes the confession. I know I’m a sorry no count so & so – I sold that old truck. Yes! I got rid of my old faithful friend. It took me there and brought me back for 17 years. It wasn’t much to look at, but then neither am I. That might be one reason we fit together so well. We were both getting older, but I think I was wearing out faster. That old boy didn’t have power brakes, of AC, or power steering. It did have an automatic transmission. And the heater worked great. That was one truck that was heated in the winter, and heated in the summer. And gosh dog! I feel like a wimp. My dad drove his old truck for 25 years. And his didn’t even have an automatic transmission. He was up in his seventies before he bought a truck with power steering, and here I am hollering “uncle” at the age of 54.

When I was a young man I didn’t mind that my truck required a lot of power to steer it. But with the passing of the years, these old shoulders and elbows don’t seem to hold up as well as they used to. I’d kind of like to keep building guitars for a few more decades, so I had to make a change. They say when Billy Graham was young, he used to jump around and yell, and have spit and snot flying. But as he got older and found out there were limits to the amount of energy he had, he decided to save some of that energy for later. Just driving my old truck was wearing me out so bad that it was slowing me down in my shop Since I only have a certain amount of energy, I figure I better not spend it all in one place.

I can say that I found a good home for my old friend. A big guy in his twenties came all the way from Mississippi to buy that truck. And it was love at first sight. I’m glad some of the other people who looked at it didn’t buy it. They wanted to talk bad about it for being old and for having some rust on it. I’m old and got a little rust on me, so I counted that as a double insult. The young man who bought it likes to restore old trucks, and he looks to be fit enough to drive it for quite a while.

That Chevy truck was in ’80 model, which makes it one year shy of being an antique. Since folks are starting to offer me senior citizen discounts, I guess that makes me an antique too. It’s going to take my new truck and me a while to get used to each other. I say new! It’s a ’96 model, but it’s new to me. That thing has power steering, power brakes, AC, and automatic transmission. And get this: it has a radio that even catches FM. And it has a tape player. And I don’t mean eight-track player. I’m talking about cassette. No doubt about it. I’m one old boy who has it goin’ on.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Paul Harvey
All last week they played tributes to my man, Paul Harvey. All my life I have tried my best to stop for lunch at high noon so I could listen to him. Today is Monday, March I, 2009. I stopped for lunch at noon, turned on the radio – and nothing. I started listening to him when I was three years old, and in a few weeks I’ll be turning fifty-four. I know I’ll come to terms with this, because there’s no choice involved. It was a double fascination for me when my mama turned the radio on a few minutes before noon. I would look through the holes in the back of the radio to watch the tubes start glowing. Finally, the volume started coming up. They kept it set on WDIX that came in from Orangeburg, SC. And at noon we all go quiet and waited for, “Hello Americans.” My dad was on his way home for lunch, but he would not get out of the car till a commercial break. So I can’t remember when I wasn’t listening to Paul Harvey.

Everybody who knows me well knew to stay the hell away from me at noon. The only person who was allowed to interrupt that fifteen-minute span was Jesus. Of course, in June of 2005, Allen interrupted me during that sacred time, and I never forgot it. You know what they say about old dogs and new tricks? Well, today when I stopped at high noon, I figured out that for the first time in my life there’s no longer a reason to guard that fifteen minutes. So I ate my honey, peanut butter, and banana sandwich in silence.

I always liked where he was coming from. Anytime major events took place, I couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say. So many of the news commentators want to paint as dark of a picture as possible. I don’t know why they feel the need to take such a hopeless look at everything. Paul always had the good and bad clearly in focus. He often said the country was not going to hell, but we might have to go through a little before things get better. When the news was bad, he would put a little perspective on it. He would tell how things had been worse in the past and how we got through it.

And he had special event broadcasts that were played every year. There was one for Christmas and Easter, Thanksgiving and Fourth of July. He had one for Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. Then there were subjects that he often covered. He had a good one on work, and salesmanship, and our founding fathers. I hope the powers that be find it in their hearts to always replay those broadcasts at the appropriate time.

I guess we’re never ready for the loss of a good friend, but of late, I was starting to sense that time was short. The Almighty helped me to have the foresight to record his broadcasts for the last several months. He was the one who told me that when a man and wife had been married a long time, and loved each other, their deaths would not be far apart. He pointed that out when Johnny Cash died soon after June passed on. Paul sho’ ‘nuf loved his wife Lynne, whom he always referred to as his “live-in Angel.” She died last year from some form of leukemia.

But, I guess it would be a clear display of selfishness for me to complain. I would always wish he could be here for one more day. Sometimes people have asked me what I was going to do when Paul Harvey died. I assured them he didn’t have to live forever. He just needed to outlive me. Even though I am missing the man, I am most of all thankful. Even when the news was not good, I would always rather hear it from him than anyone else. The day Keith Green died I heard it from Paul Harvey. He said, “Today, Last Days Ministries in Lindale, Texas has lost more than they can afford.” He pointed out that Keith was a singer, songwriter, preacher, and the found of Last Days Ministries. By the time Keith’s critics and the mainstream media were done, I didn’t know whom it was that they were talking about.

One thing I’ve said several times before is that I’m thankful to have lived in this world at a time when there were giants in the land. As far as well known people go, the three I have admired the most are Billy Graham, Paul Harvey, and Johnny Cash. And it never has escaped my attention that those three guys were friends. I’ve read several books about Johnny Cash, and in them are several pictures with Johnny & June, and Billy & Ruth. And then out in my shop on the wall, I have a picture of Paul Harvey & Billy Graham sitting on a wooden fence and talking. There will always be one more person looking to fill up airtime on the radio. But I got to grow up and live my life and hear the giant who came on my radio with, “Hello Americans” and he left me with “Good Day!”

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

The Hunger
They would open the doors at Piccadilly Cafeteria at 10:30 a.m. They probably still open at that time. When one of the assistant managers went to unlock the doors, there would already be a line outside. They just came. Nobody had to drag them there and nobody had to convince them of their need. They were the same ones who lined up there every morning. They were hungry, and they liked the food we served. It’s that way everywhere. Several times a day that gnawing feeling in the stomach will start and people will find food wherever it is.

I always know I talk too much. I don’t know if I think my words to be worth hearing or if I’m just trying to chase away the quiet. But sometimes I think I’d like to see what it would be like if none of us could speak. For whatever reasons, I think most of us are liars. We orchestrate our words to give a false impression. Maybe we’re not liked, but speak in a way to gain acceptance. Perhaps we speak lies because we’re afraid that when people see our eyes they can tell what is in our hearts. Often folks like to gain an advantage over somebody. I think that if our words could be silenced, then people could watch what we do, and get a better idea about who we really are.

Some are hungry to be entertained. They don’t have to be convinced of the need and you don’t have to drag them to the places where entertainment can be found. They just line up at all the appropriate places and wait, and pay, and hope to get what they come for. I can’t say I’m sure I know why we go to such great lengths and expense to be entertained, but C.S. Lewis gave his take on the subject. He said, “It may yet be found that all of our entertainment is a substitute for our lack of joy.” I know there is that hunger, and just like the need for food; the need to be entertained can only be satisfied for a while.

If we couldn’t speak and make excuses for ourselves, then we would pay more attention to what we do. Some have a dark sinful hunger. Some men declare their love for their wife, but continually go to the places where pornography can be found. Bob Dylan said, “Patriotism is the last refuge to which a scoundrel clings.” When caught selling Top Secret information to our enemies, the culprit will say, “But I love America.” When a televangelist in Baton Rouge, Louisiana was caught being unfaithful to his wife, he got in the pulpit and said he was sorry and told his wife he loved her. Then later on, he got caught a couple more times. He always apologized or explained it all away, but what if we had no voice and no words to cover ourselves with. I think the things we really hunger for would be more obvious if our words didn’t get in the way.

Every Sunday morning the greatest demonstration takes place. From every race and social position in life comes the assembling of the saints. The Redeemed gather in homes and small meeting-houses. They go to country churches, and cathedrals. The children go because their parents make them. But nobody makes the adults go. There is just this big gnawing in their spirits, and they are hungry. They go because they know there is food there, and the hunger will be satisfied at least for a little while. I always get irritated at the preachers who are looking for an angle to coral and control the folks who came to their church. They need to just have the spiritual food ready on Sunday and feed the hungry ones who come. And there is no need to guilt ,or bribe, or coerce the ones who don’t attend. If they were hungry they would be there. And there is no point in speaking poorly of some other church. Not everybody comes to Piccadilly. Some like Shoney’s better. And can get fed at either place.

I always admire monks. They are hungry just like the rest of us. They don’t have to tell me what they are hungry for, and truth is that some take a vow not to speak. They are not hungry for marriage or possessions. They don’t need a T.V. or a pinball machine. They come to a quiet place because they are hungry for hearing the voice of the Almighty. Nobody makes them come and they are hungry enough to give up everything for one thing.

I heard one man say he could look at a person’s checkbook and tell what’s the most important thing to them. There is a lot I’d like to convince you of concerning me. There are things I’d like to tell you that I believe and how I spend the best of my time. I bet, though, that I’d be shocked by the conclusion people came to by looking at my bankbook. But, no words to shade the truth: only the daily watching as we go about trying to satisfy the hunger.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Even The Sparrows
Every spring, just like clockwork, at least one or two come to my shop. I can’t remember when was the first year a wren came to build her nest in full view of where I work. They obviously know it’s safe there. I go to great lengths to keep cats from getting to them and their young. Some see them as a pest and without a doubt they can get in my way and slow me down. I know it’s just a common little bird and you’ll never see one for sale in a pet shop. Still, there’s a good feeling I get when one lights about 3 feet from me, and doesn’t appear to be afraid. And when the eggs hatch out, you ought to hear all those little squeakers. Even though they are everywhere and worthless in a monetary sort of way, I will be greatly disappointed if any of them dies. And you should have been there one year when they all took flight the same day. They were perched everywhere in my shop, and one by one they finally found their way out the door to join the thousands of other wrens that look just like them. They are small and brown, and hatch the same time in the spring, and make the same chirping sound, and there’s not much that’s spectacular about them.

Brad & Angelina have adopted some children from around the world. I get to see their pictures when I’m standing in line at WalMart. A few months ago John Travolta and his wife lost a son. Seems he was born with a condition that caused him to have seizures. Lots of people came forward and gave comfort and support and prayers. Probably close to two years ago Anna Nicole Smith died unexpectedly and left a newborn behind. Her life was filled with tragedy. She had lost a son, and from what I’ve seen, a mother never gets over something like that. And there in may lie the reason for her drug usage that led to her death. Michael J. Fox continues to fight with Parkinson’s: Christopher Reeves died years after his spinal injuries: Jennifer Hudson’s family was murdered: Christy Brinkley got divorced, as did Shania Twain.

You don’t know Jeff, but his wife has been struggling to hold on to life. She has breast tumors and brain cancer, and I’ve been praying for them for a while now. Emiline asked me to pray for her. She has been caring for her aging mother who has Alzheimer’s and her brother who was born retarded. Specifically, she wanted me to ask the Almighty to give her wisdom, physical strength, and patience. Doyle has been taking care of his wife Joanne for years now. She has too many physical problems to try to mention. He’s older than I am. He’s retired now and they spend their days fighting off the threat to her life. Denise and Andrew have adopted some children from around the world. My memory fails me sometimes, but I think they may no have been able to have children. And there’s Darcey. She’s in a movie that’s coming out sometime this year. And if everything comes together, the band she’s with will have some of their songs in this movie. I don’t know the name of the movie yet, and it’s a safe bet that it won’t eclipse “The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons”, but I’m going to need to see this movie.

Jesus said not one sparrow ever dies without the presence of the Father. It doesn’t require a peacock or swan or Canadian geese to get His attention. Even the ordinary, like a sparrow or a wren has the full attention of our Maker. Those whose names occupy the media are important. They are important to people and the Creator. But then there are all the rest of us. Our names make it to the local newspaper two or three times in our life. We don’t grace the magazine covers and the friends we leave behind will be the only ones to attend. But, we have a Father who watches us and He never even blinks.

I keep thanking Jesus for the miracle He performed a few weeks ago. Everyone was saved from the plane that went down in the Hudson. Let me tell you about this miracle, because you won’t hear it anywhere else. I built a mandolin for a man who is left-handed. I forgot that he was left-handed and I built if right-handed. I completed the right-handed mandolin and put it in stock, and built the left handed one. A man who worked in a nursing home bought the right handed one out of stock. He worked the night shift and it was around Christmas. He wanted to play for all the residents, so he learned “Silent Night.” He said he didn’t pass up anybody, but played for everybody – even the guy in a coma. They guy in a coma had been there for quite sometime, and had no chance of recovery, but he played for him anyway. The comatose man was being kept comfortable till death. He told me that as he played, the man in a coma opened his eyes, and sat up, and started talking to him.

I’ve been reading Allen’s stories for years now. You probably won’t ever see a review about him in the New York Times. And not too long ago I read his book, “Beer Man and Soda Man”. It’s a great book. You’ve probably never heard of him or his stories, but that doesn’t make them any less great.

We are many, and we are about as impressive as a great flock of sparrows. But, we matter to Him. Every one of us is the most important to Him.

Makin’ sawdust & Diggin’ the music

Listening
I teach a few people to play the guitar. I have so many provisions, restrictions, and limitations that it’s amazing anybody ever gets me to be their teacher. First of all, I give a person 3 weeks to prove they are serious about wanting to play. If they either won’t practice, or don’t have time, then they’re fired. My teaching plan requires about 30 minutes of practice everyday. I don’t take anybody under 13, don’t teach on Saturdays or Sundays, and my list just gets longer. But, when I teach a teenager who is not old enough to drive, then usually it’s mom or dad who brings the student for the class. I teach students individually and our class is an hour each.

In my shop, where I teach, I have this real nice comfortable chair I call “The Parent Chair”. Parents are always welcome to stay. They can read, watch what we’re doing, or take a nap. When one takes a nap, I always get the urge to take my magic marker and draw a mustache on mom or dad. I want to paint a black eye, or maybe a cigarette with smoke going up the side of their face. I should be ashamed of thoughts like that – but I’m not. Josh was one of my students and he was serious. He said he was going to be one of the best Bluegrass pickers I ever heard. One day after our class was done, his dad got up, picked up the guitar and started playing. I was kinda’ shocked. “You know how to play a guitar?” I asked. “Well,” he said, “I’m learning.” He was paying attention, practicing at home, and getting a two for one deal.

I always got something to say. If it’s not this journal entry, then it’s a customer I’m talking with. If not that, then maybe I’m preaching or teaching down at the church house. I’m the fill-in guy for the preacher and the Sunday school teacher. Sherry & I each wish the other would shut up so we could talk. I’ve learned over the years that my continual talking causes me not to learn as much. To learn something I need to be quiet and observe.

That’s what Josh’s dad did. He came sneaking up on me. I didn’t know he had been watching. I used to go to church with Melinda. Now that was one girl you had to keep an eye on. A group of us guys would be standing around talking and at some point I’d look up and there was Melinda amongst us. How did she get there? And why? She always had this big curiosity about what boys talked about when they were alone. She’d never join in and talk. She would just sorta’ ease up to the group, try to look invisible, and listen as long as she could till somebody finally noticed her. When we noticed her standing there, she would always turn around and walk away – till the next time.

Theo and I were friends when we lived in Ruston, Louisiana. He always knew more than I did, and for a good reason. Silence bothers most of us. If we are around others, we feel the need to converse. Seems it’s a bad sign if we don’t talk, or can’t find anything to talk about. I’m guilty of cluttering the air with noise just so I can keep the silence chased away. Theo had no problem with being quiet. He and I could spend the day together and he might not say a dozen words. When there was a crowd, everybody would be talking except him. He’d be standing there doing that Melinda thing. I could ask him later and he knew a lot because he was taking it all in.

There’s something on my January list and I hope I can get it done this year. Years ago I used to take off for a weekend and go camping by myself. When I’m at home or on the job, I don’t ever get quiet enough to be able to look at things, or just think about it a while. It’s always good for me when I get away and get quiet. It’s just a matter of making time, and doing it. And when I take off, I don’t turn it into a hunting or fishing trip. I usually take my Bible and maybe some other good book. And I try hard to go where nobody else will be. If somebody is there, I’m going to talk. I take that big canvas tent. It’s made to accommodate 4, but I got it all to myself. I sleep, and eat, and read, and pray, and listen. I’ve found that the Almighty is not to be found in a noisy place. And sometimes even being at church gets too noisy for me. But, He’s to be found in the quiet. I know this all too well because the Bible has a lot so say about being quiet so we can hear our Father. I’m not sure why I avoid so the thing that I know I need. We have cell phones and radios and televisions and laptops, and it seems we’ll go to great lengths to chase away the silence like it’s some sort of dreaded darkness. Many people, past and present, attest to the fact that time alone gives back sanity. It gives perspective and direction. I’ve found people of solitude to be wise – because they are listening.

Makin’ sawdust & diggin’ the music

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