Life from My Point of View: November 2013

Friday, November 22, 2013

Mail from a Friend

Mail from a friend

By: Dr. Jeff Fuller

Going through my brief case is a journey in which I never know what I might find. There is always some item which I may have found or received, stuck into one of the many compartments, and forgotten about, until…

The other morning I was cleaning out the compartments. I found some things I wondered why I was saving (a bulletin from May), other things I had been attempting to find (a twenty dollar bill and my favorite ball point pen), and still a few things I had forgotten all about. One such item was a piece of mail a dear friend had sent back in March.

This small piece of mail came without any indication of its origins. As a result I was careful to open it; it was around the time individuals were receiving mail laced with powder and dust. I put on gloves, used a set of tweezers, and checked for wires, dust or foreign substances. When it seemed to me to be harmless I read with great interest, still wondering where and who and why?

The mystery was solved when a friend mentioned sending mail to me. He is one of those rare friends, who does not have email or Facebook; his idea of social media is to talk while working on fences or feeding the chickens. Or sit on the porch or under the old oak, sipping sweet tea, contemplating the process of the creation of the feather one finds on the Bumble Bee Hummingbird, the smallest bird ever to venture into North America.

He admitted to it in April, we talked about it in May, and I found it again in July. The following are my friend’s thoughts titled, Quiet Pondering:

“Quite often we get caught up in the societal ‘rat race’ to become ‘somebody,’ to acquire wealth, position, or anything and everything worldly in an attempt to purchase or achieve real happiness. Real happiness does not have a price tag or position. As a matter of fact real happiness is found without a dollar sign. It is found in the good or tough times with the ones you love or a moment with a true friend riding the countryside looking at the beautiful scenery or in a rocker on the front porch reminiscing about days gone by. So often we should be thanking God for all the blessings we have through Him.

Joy in the Lord enables people to enjoy all that God has given: They rejoice in family (Proverbs 5:18); Food (1 Timothy 4:3-5); Celebration (Deuteronomy 16:13-15); Fellowship (Philippians 4:1).

They share with all believers the joys and sorrows of life. ‘Rejoice with those that Rejoice and weep with those that weep.’ (Romans 12:15 HCSB)

‘Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid’ (John 16:27).”

Interesting thoughts.

Today the world is full of people looking for joy and hope and life in every place but the right place. Reminds me of the old country song, “Looking for love in all the places/looking for love in too many faces,” by Waylon Jennings.

Real joy, hope, happiness, and life is found in Jesus Christ alone. He said that He was the “way, the truth and the life,” and He came to give “abundant life.”

Connect with Jesus Christ and He will give you so much more than the world will give.

Thanks Van and until next time…

Monday, November 18, 2013

Missing Today and Every day

Missing Dad

I’m missing my dad today. Not to say that I don’t miss him every day; it just seems more real, more raw, more realistic today than other days have been.

Today marks one year ago that dad left the temporary bonds of this corrupt and crumbling world and was admitted into the beauty and splendor of his forever home. While describing it from this vantage point makes his passing-his death-a little more bearable, it still does not make it easier. My father died in the hospital in Fort Payne on November 18, 2012 at the age of 82.

He had actually been slipping away for several years, with the last year living with my brother and his family in south Fort Payne. Taking his freedoms away, his independence was not what Jonathan or I wanted to do, but it was the best.

He actually continued to enjoy cleaning, raking leaves, watching the pet turkeys and walking the yard with the dog. He would sit down in the yard and talk to the dog, his ever present companion during that last year. Dad has always enjoyed being outside; God’s creation was his greatest pleasure. For thirty two years of his professional life, the great outdoors was his office. Having grown up on a farm, a dairy farm at that, he was prone to be outside and working hard, long hours.

Today I have been recalling stories he told through the years. Stories that were entertaining, enlightening, and educational. He could weave the story in such a way that only few can; I called him the “Lewis Gizzard of DeKalb County.” In some ways I think I may have inherited that ability from him. Oh, I’m not as good as he was, but I do feel that he left a print on me in that regards.

I know that the ability to speak publically, long and pointedly was something I inherited from him. There have been times I wondered if maybe God called him to preach. Yet, he was known to say that if took a heathen like him to raise two fine men. He was no heathen; he was a good man, who loved his boys unconditionally and served them with every fiber of his being.

I’m sure that there are traits I have that came from him. I may speak, or act a certain way, or do something and will automatically think of him. It is just in my genes. Tina has been known to look at me and say, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were John Fuller.” That is high praise.

Standing in that hospital room on that Sunday morning, one year ago today, I was impacted by the way God deals with His own in death. As a minister, a member of the Law Enforcement family, and as a former firefighter I have seen a lot of people dead or dying. I watched the last of life ebb away both in a dramatic fashion and in a peaceful form, and all the ones in between.

On that morning I watched as Poppa took deep, linger breaths. He was slowly being removed from this life to the life he had longed for; the life he had been prepared for over years of struggles, heartaches, troubles, and good, grand, and pleasant times. God was gradually allowing him to pass from this life to the next. He, that is the Father of Creation, was also giving time for the me and Jonathan to say our final goodbyes, to allow Poppa to know that we would be alright and continue to carry the Fuller name.

As that last breath faded and he body, that shell that had held the spiritual for many years, stilled there was both relief and sorrow in my own heart. At that moment I thanked God for giving me a daddy who loved and cared; but I was saddened that he had to go, leaving me behind. There was also a tinge of jealousy as I thought of the many who had gone before that daddy was now rejoined with and rejoicing with in that place called heaven.

The next few days, and honestly the last year has been a haze. How I miss him. Being able to pick up the phone and call, just to chat. Or those times that I needed a question answered. Or just to hear him tell another story. Those are days that I miss.

The other day I was driving along the road and took my phone, punched in his phone number. Then I realized he was not there. It is hardest when you want so badly to talk to the one who has gone and you come to understand they are not available.

Dad and I shared a special bond, one that I will never be able to fully explain. I remember that day he took me into his confidence. Our relationship was different, stronger, better, sweeter, and refreshing from that moment on. It was an incredible moment for me.