How They Linger...

Precious memories...

Lisa & I went to hang w/ my brother & his wife & daughter this weekend. Had a total blast! But that's not what this entry is about. (well, except that we added to our list of precious memories...)

Unseen angels sent from somewhere to my soul...

It was what Highway 80 does every time I drive it. More precisely, what the places along Highway 80 do to me every time I pass them.

How they linger ever near me...

First, there's the the beautiful land along this road through central Alabama. Over & against the land's God-given beauty are the multiple homesites now rotting. Stu Webber, a writer who has had a huge impact on my life & walk with Christ--and who every male needs to read!--describes such abandoned, falling down places as the ruins of a lost mini-civilization. Since reading that description, I always try to imagine those homesites when they were occupied...

And the sacred scenes unfold...

Then one drives right through Selma, AL. A historical city, mostly for the horror of what happened on the Edmund Pettis bridge back in the 60s. (We drove across that bridge just today). But Selma resonates with me for a different reason. Just off of 80 as one comes into town is a collection of old, small houses. One of those houses was the last earthly address of two simple country folks, in the absolute highest & best & most complimentary sense of "simple" & "country." Their names were Charlie & Mattie. I never really knew Charlie, as he passed when I was just 1. There is a picture of Charlie & his grownup son holding me that I treasure. Mattie, I knew quite well & loved/love dearly. Her life & laugh & faith matter greatly to many, but particularly to me. Charlie & Mattie's last name? Madaris. My Grandma & Grandpa. Today as we detoured past the old house, there were truly many "sacred scenes unfolding" in the theater of my memory. It used to be the case that when I drove past after Grandma's passing it brought only sadness & tears. Today, it brought only joy & smiles.

Precious memories, how they linger...

Just back up 80 is Elkdale Baptist Church. Grandma was a faithful member. She regularly used to walk the few blocks to get there on Sundays. (Mattie never had a driver's license) Hers was an amazing faith that was rock solid, despite a pretty tough life. She became the "Mom" figure to her younger siblings around age 12 when her own mother was admitted to the mental hospital from which she never returned. Mattie buried her Charlie. She lost children very young, and not so very young, including her second son James. And yet, through the challenges, Mattie's faith only seemed to strengthen. For which I am *most* grateful.

How they ever flood my soul...

A couple of miles up the road is where Charlie & Mattie's daughter Evelyn lived with her husband & their son Joe. Aunt Evelyn & Uncle Joe's place was the scene of many a Madaris family gathering. Which meant football in the front yard, exploring the creek in the back yard, avoiding snakes in the woods, riding horses, dirt clod fights, lots of food, board games, & lots of laughter. Aunt Evelyn is one of several of Charlie & Mattie's kids whose faith stands as a shining beacon, drawing those of us who are following along behind & showing us what deep, abiding faith in Christ looks like. She's there now waiting, in the land of the eternal hello. (Related aside: cancer sucks!) Can't wait to hear her marvelous laugh again, and to sing the hymns with her beautiful voice there beside me.

In the stillness of the midnight, precious sacred scenes unfold...

Just a few miles east of Selma is the turnoff that takes one to downtown Dutch Bend, AL, which is sort of a suburb of Braggs in Lowndes County. Braggs is more or less the anchor pole of Charlie & Mattie's family's journey, although as a sawmill worker, they moved around a bit. In my day, their older son Charles, Jr. lived there with his family. It is one of my favorite places on the globe, as their place was one of my favorite places to visit as a kid & also as a confused, angry teen. Going there always made me somewhat less angry. Uncle Jr. & Aunt Nell knew how to make boys have a whale of a good time and how to make us laugh. Hunting, fishing, working with the cows, riding dirt bikes,...precious sacred scenes indeed! Uncle Jr. is also there waiting in the land of the eternal hello. Poetically, he entered eternity on one of the very few times I ever knew of him going hunting by himself (most of the time, he was trying to make sure his city-folk nephews got to shoot @ the deer & doves & quail.) Thankfully, Aunt Nell is still around & is a "facebook friend" of mine, in addition to a beloved Aunt.

And old home scenes of my childhood in fond memory appear...

Farther along 80 is Montgomery, AL, which is where this couple I know used to live as young married folks. He worked on the newspaper as a typesetter, and she taught school. Their second son was born there, and is sitting in this chair & typing this blog entry right now.

As I travel on life's pathway knowing not what the years may hold...

Somewhere in Montgomery is a Baptist church. There was a newly-married Sunday School class there in the late 1950s. They hung out, encouraged one another, rocked each other's babies, prayed together, and tried to work through what a Christian marriage was like. I'm so very thankful, for I lived the fruit of their co-laboring for the first 15 years of my life under the roof of one of those couples.

As I ponder, hope grows fonder...

Between Montgomery & Prattville is the "Hank Williams Lost Highway" memorial stretch of I-65. (Hank's buried in Montgomery). I mention this because Hank was a favorite of all of these folks I've been talking about. The last Christmas present I ever bought my Dad--and the only one I actually remember--was an 8-track of Hank's Greatest Hits; I wound up giving it to his brother, Uncle Jr. after Dad's homegoing. I still love me some Hank; smiling right now as I remember this dashingly-handsome country boy from Braggs, AL singing "Hey, Good Lookin'" to his sweetie in the car while their sons giggled in the back seat.

Precious memories flood my soul.

As mentioned earlier, most of these markers for me have in the past brought forth many a tear. Friday night and this afternoon, it was all smiles & thanksgiving. As the old hymn says, "when we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be! When we all see Jesus, we'll sing and shout the victory!"

Precious memories...flood...my...soul.