Lately I have been wearing a “costume” sometimes when I tell stories of my grandfather Pierpont’s farm. I’m working on publishing a collection of these stories soon. It may be an eBook. Grandpa, who died in October of 1980 would never have believed the stories of his humble farm would be told all over the country and published “electronically.”

Jess was born in a little house back in a remote “holler” in Kentucky. The nearest town was the county seat of Wolfe County–the little mountain town in Eastern Kentucky where my wife Lois was born. Jess married Lois’ grandmother. They met at the Senior Citizens Center there in Campton. It’s a small town with it’s own humble charm where there are no strangers.
One summer afternoon Lois and I drove out to visit the old newly-weds. Lois cherished her grandmother, Carlie. They puttered around the kitchen talking and …

I have to admit to some quaint ideas. I still feel an inner warmth and get a little misty-eyed when I see a picture of a family walking to church on a spring morning. In these warm fantasies the sun is always shining, birds sing, and the walk is lined with daffodils. The trees are in the tender bud of spring and church bells ring in the distance.
Dad is wearing a suit. Mom is in a beautiful Easter dress, her hair “just so”. The boys …

My Grandfather named things. He named his cows. He named his tractors. He even gave my Grandmother a nickname. She had a perfectly good name when he met her. It was a beautiful, appropriate, honorable name that fit her perfectly. Her name is Grace but grandpa always called her Tiny.
My Dad acquired the habit of naming things from him. His names have never been literary masterpieces. They are more playful and descriptive. Examples include names like “Tricky Little Copper” and “the Cardboard Bank.”
I’ve named a few things myself. (Ask me …

I was just finishing some yard work when I saw a Hispanic man drive up in a pick-up truck. A young man was with him, later I found out it was his son. I smiled and waved, he smiled a waved back. They unloaded some equipment and went to work. I finished packing my things away.
They had not been there five minutes when suddenly there was a load bang. The young began to scream over the noise of the power equipment, “Father, father! My …

Ralph and Maxine had been married nearly fifty years. I was their pastor. One day I heard Ralph was in the hospital. I drove to town and made my way to his room. He was having a tussle with an ugly strain of the flu. It looked miserable, but it didn’t look serious. I kept my visit short, prayed with him, and said good-bye. I thought I would see him in church on Sunday, but the next day instead of being discharged to recover …

I don’t want to shock any of you but in a shadowy season of my past I drove what they called a “Roach Coach.” It was actually a squeaky-clean, brand-new catering truck outfitted to service factory workers. I would drive up to a factory at break time. Someone would shout out “Roach Coach” and workers would line up to buy hot coffee, hot chocolate, hot sandwiches, donuts, chips, pretzels and candy bars.
After servicing the workers I would tidy the truck, restock items that were getting low and face things …

Clay Nuttal has been a pastor for fifty years. In my in-box today was this little nugget I am trying to take to heart when I preach. What are your thoughts?
The cardinal sin of preaching is making any reference to time. You want the listener to be thinking about message content, not the clock. The minute we mention time, their minds are somewhere else; and often it’s hard to get them back. As preachers, we fail to think through how people may respond to disclaimers. If …

Years ago something happened that angered me. I’m really not easily angered though my story will make it seem so. This petty offense just touched a very sensitive nerve. The offense was repeated four or five times. It was during a time when I was already enduring more than my fair share of criticism. I will never forget it because it happened on four or five consecutive weeks at precisely twelve noon on Sunday.
Of course, I’m a pastor and if you ever lose track of me show up at …

On January 8, 1991 I went to Cedarville College to hear Jerry Falwell speak. He said, “There is not a pastor here who couldn’t double his attendance in a year if he just got out of his office and off the golf course and out of the coffee shops and began a house-to-house ministry.”
Jerry Falwell started in his home town in a church meeting at the Donald Duck Bottling Company and when he died the church was running over 25,000 in attendance. He left behind the largest Christian college in …