When I was a teenager and going steady with my future wife I got to see her pretty much based on what was provided to me. Since her dad was a pastor this consisted of attending many Church services, sharing a few meals with her family, and showing up for other Church related fellowships and functions. The name of their Church was New Hope and my buddies back in my hometown called it and me “No Hope” because of me never being around anymore to do anything with them. (I’m certainly not complaining about the Church services too much since I came to know Christ as my Savior at one of their Saturday evening services in January of 1964.)
One time I went with them to attend a Bible conference about 60 miles away. It was an all day Saturday affair with preaching and singing. The prominent preachers were reserved for the late afternoon and the night services while the morning and early afternoon sessions were more or less where the new preachers and less experienced could do their thing. I remember the night featured preacher was a big tall cowboy from Beaumont, Texas. His name was J. Boyd Davis and he was a highly sought after revivalist and special event speaker. He was all decked out with a custom made cowboy suit, special boots, and he wore a fancy belt with a huge sparkling buckle. And, he could preach up a storm.
That morning to my dismay one of the local fellows from my hometown got up to speak. I knew him well. He had been called to preach at an older age and had not been doing it for very long. He was the local mattress maker in our small town. I had also been with a friend of mine to his house with my friend’s dad and other guys where they all played instruments and sang, making music with a sound something akin to bluegrass.
He had signed up and was one of the early morning speakers. He was very nervous since the men on the platform were highly respected Bible preachers from near and far. I don’t know why but I felt connected to him and was on edge from the time he came to the pulpit. He not only was visibly shaking and very pale but the first thing he announced was that he hoped God would help him because he had that same week gotten a brand new set of teeth.
I could see the coming disaster unfolding before my eyes. When he began to try and speak his teeth began to slip and slide and make noises. There were several different sounds, some high pitched squeaking and some hissing but it was all very unnerving. His hands were shaking and I thought he might tear the pages out of his Bible trying to locate his text. Finally, the moderator asked someone to bring him a glass of water. The men on the platform were doing their very best not to laugh but I could see their shoulders shuddering as they tried to hold it in.
The water arrived and it made it worse. Now he began to gurgle as he squeaked and hissed his way through his sermon. I think he lasted about fifteen minutes and everyone in the building said a loud and hearty AMEN when he left the pulpit. I don’t remember his text but I do remember feeling very sorry for him. Yet, when you think about it, if he did what he did to honor God, then we know that God wasn’t laughing at him, but rather He was smiling with approval and saying, “Well done my child, well done.” Something to think about. See Matthew 25:21. More later……………..
Friday, August 31, 2007
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