Introduction
In January of 1986 -- after
having graduated from Freed-Hardeman University (Henderson,
Tennessee), on Friday, 12/20/1985 -- I moved, as an engaged but
still single preacher, to Charleston, Missouri. I remember well
how Mom watched me, as I left the homeplace, driving the U-Haul
moving van, with my 1984 Chevy Chevette in tow.
On the Sunday after graduation, I had
“tried out” for the open preaching position. The Charleston
Church of Christ was seeking a married man, with fulltime preaching
experience. I had neither -- yet. The church offered me the position
anyway! It was despite the upchuck that I'd spewed, literally, on the
hallway floor and wall, at the Palmer's home! (I had been sickly, at
the graduation ceremony. It wasn't because of my “adoptive”
sister's cooking!)
My “adoptive” family and I
“adopted” each other, during my “try out” weekend. Our family
ties grew stronger, very quickly. Our mutual Irish heritage was an
important factor! Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I were married, on
5/16/1986. That's when she joined the “adoptive” family, in
Missouri. My honor was to serve the church, as minister, until August
of 1992. Short term mission trips -- to Jamaica (two weeks, in 1987),
to India (about six weeks, in 1989), and again to India (about six
weeks, in 1991) -- were included.
My wife and I moved to nearby Dexter,
Missouri, in August of 1992. I served as an associate minister, for
the Dexter Church of Christ, as we prepared for mission work in
Russia. Our about two-month survey trip, to India and then to Russia,
was in 1993. The Lord directed us to Russia.
Two other families and we composed
the “Mission Moscow” team.
My wife and I served, as missionaries on that team, predominately in
Moscow and Klin, Russia, from 10/1/1994 to 9/30/1999, five full
years.
This is a rather lengthy short
story, about our family reunion, in Charleston, Missouri, from
Tuesday, 7/11/2023, to Friday, 7/14/2023. It's also about our Mission
Moscow reunion, on 7/14/2023. By
topic sections, this article is the 115th entry under “Family,”
the 96th under “Heritage,”
the lucky 13th under “Mission
Work,” and the second under “Short
Stories.”
This
is a 20 page manuscript.
The Irish in me can get a little long-winded! I hope that
you relax, unwind, and enjoy this article.
You are welcome to leave a comment.
Charleston,
Missouri, Family: Introduction
Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I were
last in Charleston, Missouri, from 10/21/1999 (a Thursday, which
was the 26th birthday of my youngest brother) to 11/3/1999 (a
Wednesday). We had stayed with my “adoptive” sister and her
husband. We made final reporting visits, to several supporting
churches in the area. Our final mission report, to the Charleston
Church of Christ, was on the evening of our arrival. (The church had
moved their Wednesday evening service, to that evening, to
accommodate our reporting schedule.)
The next year, my “adoptive”
sister and her husband had surprised us pleasantly, when they arrived
for Mom's funeral visitation and service, on Friday, 12/29/2000!
That was the last time that we were able to see my “adoptive”
sister and brother-in-law. Well, we saw my “adoptive” sister
again, on 7/11/2023. We will see her husband, again, in heaven! Mike,
I'll see you again, up there!
As an important note, when I write
“Mom,” I refer to my biological mother (Betty Lou Wood Ferrell,
11/24/1932 - 12/27/2000). When I write “Mother,” I refer to,
well, my “adoptive” mother, who is honored, in the family tree,
below. After this point, the article will stop using “adoptive,”
to reference our Charleston, Missouri, family.
We're family, after all!
Family
Tree
First, I'll share memories of the
Charleston, Missouri, family tree. This will help readers, who are
not family members, to understand some family connections. This
section does not list all the known branches of the family tree, nor
does it share all memories. A personal document, which I keep
updated, has the branches that I know. Many memories remain in my
mind.
Mama
I'll start with my maternal
grandmother (or Mama, as my sister and I call her). She is Ollie
Mae Helms McTigue (12/15/1909 - 7/11/1991,
age 81). I sometimes called her Granny Mac, which she seemed to like.
Her husband, my maternal grandfather, passed in 1967, at age 63. I
was age six, turning seven, when he passed.
The family knows the stories, about how
Mama would threaten to break my plate, if I was late for dinner or
supper! Mama didn't like the beard, which I'd grown for a while. On a
Sunday, at the church building, with that well-known gleam in her
eye, Mama twisted and pinched my beard hard enough, to encourage me
to shave it off! (With a sarcastic smile, I'd made the mistake of
asking her how she liked my beard.)
Mama is a dearly loved family
matriarch. Her Christian spirit, care for family, spunky Irish
disposition, work ethic, and strong will are some of her legacies. I
miss her. Will I have a beard, in my spiritual body? Will Mama try to
twist and pinch it again? We will find out, one fine day! I remember,
when Mama was so ill, in the hospital, with family there. I prayed
that the Lord would take her on Home soon, so that she'd no longer
suffer. She passed to glory, about five minutes after my prayer.
Thank you, Lord! I was honored to deliver Moma's funeral
eulogy and to conduct her graveside service. I look forward to seeing
Mama again, at Home.
Mama and her husband (who passed in
1967) had four children. Their son, my uncle, passed, in 1984, before
I was able to meet him. I knew their three daughters. Two are my
aunts. One is my Mother.
Aunts
My first maternal aunt, by age, is
Syvella Marie McTigue Henson
(1/21/1930 - 10/9/1999, age 69), the twin sister of my Mother.
My sister and I sometimes call her “sissy,” since she is our
Mother's twin sister. I remember the physical trials that aunt
Syvella endured. She endured family trials, known to family, also.
Her strength of spirit and determination, however, did not allow
those trials to keep her down! Many times, when asking about how she
was doing, aunt Syvella would mention her “whatevers” (as I call
them) and reply, “I took a pain pill and kept going!”
My aunt passed away nine days, after my wife and I had returned from
Russia. We were in the east Tennessee area, visiting family and
making final reporting visits to supporting churches in the area. I
wish that we could have attended aunt Syvella's funeral and graveside
services. Aunt Syvella overcame the trials of life, as a Christian,
by focusing on, as I call it, the everlasting perspective. (Due to
later trials in my life, I came to fully appreciate the example of
her perspective.) I look forward to seeing aunt Syvella again, at
Home.
My other maternal aunt, by age, is Ida
Virginia McTigue Hurley
(2/4/1942 - 8/3/2022, age 80). I've said and written, in
previous articles, “My Mom and my Mother are the finest examples
of a Christian, whom I have ever known, and I've known many fine
examples. I can have two finest examples.” This article,
based on the good influence of my older sister, adds aunt Ida to that
list. I can have three finest Christian examples! Aunt Ida had
passed to glory, late in the evening, on 8/3/2022. My sister called
me, early the next morning, to let us know. I wish that we could have
made the drive to Charleston, for her funeral and graveside. (My wife
had just returned to her vice principal/teacher position, after
summer vacation. Also, I had doubted that my “bionic” body could
endure the long drive.) Aunt Ida's benevolence, to family and to many
others, is her Christian legacy. The spirit of Christ dwelled in her
richly, as evidenced by the fruit of the Spirit, which flowed from
her to so many. Aunt Ida has a sharp mind and quick wit, a gift of
the Irish in her. We enjoyed many exchanges of wit, and we had a few
“mock debates” on points of theology. I look forward to seeing
aunt Ida again, at Home.
Mother
I've said and written many times that I
have Mom, Betty Lou Wood Ferrell (11/24/1932 - 12/27/2000, age 68)
and that I have Mother, Ozella McTigue Scott
(1/21/1930 - 4/26/2023, age 93). My Mom and my Mother were the
finest examples of a Christian, whom I have ever known, and I have
known many fine examples. (In the last paragraph, I added aunt Ida,
as the third finest example.) Mother's husband passed away, at age
40, a day after I'd attained age four, in 1964. Mother never
remarried.
I'd rather not revisit the memories and
emotions that writing about Mother, in this article, would bring to
the forefront of my mind. Instead, this article references the recent
podcast and the most recent article, about Mother. Therein, are
expressions that I hold dearly, in my soul.
The podcast, on Appalachian
Irishman - Podcasts, is “Ozella
McTigue Scott (1-21-1930 to 4-26-2023) Funeral Message, by Marion W.
Ferrell (on 4-27-2023).” I composed and published the
twenty-seven minute podcast, the day after Mother went to see Jesus.
The podcast was included in Mother's funeral service, on Monday, May
1st, 2023. My presence and honor, to Mother, was by that medium. I
wish that circumstances had not hindered our physical presence. My
wife and I were present in spirit.
The most recent article on this website
is “In
Memory of My Adoptive Mother (published 5-5-2023; article #410).”
It references the article about Mother, on 1/24/2021.
Please read the comments, on both of those articles. I can only
imagine the conversations that my Mom and my Mother have been having
about me! I look forward to seeing my Mother again, at Home.
Brother-in-Law
I couldn't have asked for a better
brother-in-law! Michael Lee Palmer (3/18/1958 - 2/8/2007,
Thursday, age 48) is still my sister's husband. He passed to his
everlasting Home, on the same day that my next to youngest brother
attained age 38. That February, I had tried to work, while sickly,
taking sick leave as needed. I'd seen two doctors and taken whatever
they'd prescribed. On my 2007 desk calendar, I wrote that I'd had a
fever of 102 degrees, on the day of Mike's funeral service, on
2/10/2007.
Sis., I know that you always call him Michael, while most folks
call him Mike. Michael is fitting. Your husband and Michael the
archangel have similar qualities. Both fought the devil and won (Jude
9). The apostle Paul assured the Christians at Thessalonica, and us
today, about the coming of the Lord (1 Thess. 4:13-18). Verse 16,
NIV, states that, at the Lord's second coming, He will descend from
heaven, “. . . with the voice of the archangel . . . .” Michael
is still your archangel, watching over you above.
Well, I have to tell at least two
funny stories, about Mike and me! (I have several.) One evening,
at the church building, Mike and I were the only ones in the
auditorium. Other church family were either outside or in the foyer.
We were joking about “the holy kiss” (Rom.
16:16, 1 Cor. 16:20, 2 Cor. 13:12, 1 Thess. 5:26). We were pretending
to give each other, as men, a “holy kiss” -- with the intention
of not doing so. Well, our faces pretended too closely together, and
our lips touched -- for a split second! We both stepped back and
wiped our mouths at the same time! He and I promised each other that
we'd never tell that story! Well, I just told it! I'm sure that Mike
will forgive me. Okay, I hear family members laughing!
Over the years, Mike and I enjoyed
several humorous “debates,” on playing the lottery. He
bought a ticket, every now and then. He lost and won some money at
times. It was only a hobby of his -- as I'll admit, finally, in this
article. In contrast, I do not trust any state that advertises a
lottery -- while also offering free help to recover from a gambling
addiction! The state's lottery commercials create the gambling
addiction! Our debates usually ended in a draw -- until Thursday,
7/13/2023. Warning:
the photograph, below, is frightening!
Down right
ugly self photograph, by M. Fearghail, on 7/22/2023, Saturday, at
5:52 PM
I warned you!
I tried to grimace my face, into it's most unbecoming appearance, and
bulge out my left eye. Did I succeed? I thought so! For your online
reading interest, you may enjoy scrolling down to “The Suicide
Table,” on about
The Delta Saloon. The saloon is in Virginia City, Nevada. My
sister and her husband had taken a trip to Virginia City, Nevada, for
their 30th wedding anniversary. Mike got the cap, during
that trip. I'm wearing it, in the above photograph.
My sister gave me Mike's cap, during
our final evening, on Thursday, 7/13/2023. It fits perfectly. The
next morning, I placed Mike's cap on the kitchen island (freestanding
cabinet top). As my wife and I began to leave, through the kitchen
door, I told my sister, “Mike's cap that you gave me is the last
item that I'm taking with me, as I walk out.” That was my way
to honor Mike and my sister.
Hey, Mike, this article admits my defeat, on our “lottery
debates!” Playing the lottery was only a hobby of yours. Also, your
wife gave me your “Delta Saloon, Suicide Table” cap! I've been
wearing it. I look forward to taking a better self photograph, while
wearing it, on a House Mountain hike! I'll be talking with you, once
it's cooler, from the middle bluff of “My Mountain!”
I look forward to seeing my
brother-in-law again, at Home. What will Mike say to me, once he's
aware of this article? Yes, I see Mike's mischievous gin, as I
write this sentence!
Sister
This section brings us to my very
Irish-natured sister, Carol Sue.
She is my older sister, by about eight years. Now, if she and I get
to talking, with our fully Irish gab engaged, we can both talk, for a
long time, often at the same time, and understand each other
perfectly! We wonder why folks around us, in confusion, are holding
their fingers in their ears!
Yes, Sis., I hear you! Yes, I'm writing about you, behind your
back! You caught me!
Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, my
“long-suffering” wife, knows how to chime into the conversations.
My sister and she conversed often, just the two of them, when I was
showering or if I was on a solo errand somewhere.
Sometimes, it's hard being the “baby
brother!” I'll share three stories, from our recent trip. On the
evening of Wednesday, 7/12/2023, my sister, my wife, and I visited
Bootheel Youth Camp. (More on that visit, below.) The rental car was
at under a quarter tank of gas. After we left the camp, I filled up
the rental, in the nearby small town of Bloomfield. I'd planned to
use a credit card, to pay at the pump. Oh, no! Sis. would have none
of that! In her strongest Irish stubbornness, my older sister
insisted that I pay with her debit card! I said, “Okay, Sis., you won! I'm not the oldest sibling! You are my older sister! I
give up!” I paid, using her debit card. This Appalachian
Irishman knows that “a man's got to know his limitations”
(with apology to Clint Eastwood).
The next story that I'll share is about
the cupping set that my sister gave me, also on our last evening with
her. My “bionic” body had amazed me, by taking quite well the
drive to Charleston and the various doings while there. That
Thursday, I'd managed to kink the right side of my neck. Sis., in
her very Irish desire to help, insisted that I try her cupping set
(in the photograph, below).
Photograph by
M. Fearghail, on 7/25/2023, Tuesday.
The suction power of one of those caps
worked quickly! The little “poppy up sore spot” (as I call them)
vanished! Sis. insisted that I keep her cupping set, to use at our
home. I half-heartedly argued that she may need to use it herself.
“Yes, Sis., I know that you can buy another one!” I
gave in, to my older sister -- again! Yes, as baby brother, I must
know my limitations!
The last story -- of many that I could
tell, from over the years -- is from the Friday morning, of our
departure, on 7/14/2023. Almost every time that I'd excuse myself, to
use the bathroom, Sis. would say, “Don't forget to leave a
quarter!” (She used to joke with our Mother like that. Mother
would reply, “just charge it.”) After my final use of the
downstairs bathroom, I placed a quarter, under the soap dish! Once my
wife and I had arrived back to our Tennessee home, I called Sis., to
let her know that we had arrived safely. I asked her to check under
the bathroom soap dish. Her reply was something like, “You
left only one quarter, but used the bathroom several times! You owe
me more quarters!” Lord willing, on our next trip to
Missouri, I'll bring a few rolls of quarters!
Niece and Nephew
My wife and I were able to spend a good
bit of time with Lesli, our niece, the daughter of my sister and her
husband. She was in her teenage years, when we lived in Charleston.
She is now a fine Christian woman, following the examples of her
great grandmother, grandmother, father, and mother. She has the same
strongly Irish spirit. Our niece has endured her trials of life well.
She has two sons and a daughter, whom I'll mention in the next
section. She has the same work ethic, as her ancestors. Some years
ago, our niece become the first female law enforcement officer, in
Charleston! She's in another line of work now. I remember how her
father “helped” her get into law enforcement, but I'll not share
that story, in this article. It is a rather humorous story now. The
initial location of the story, however, wasn't funny, at the time.
Our nephew, Jason, my sister and her husband's
son, was otherwise engaged, so my wife and I weren't able to see him,
sadly. We understood why he had to be away. He was in his grade
school years, when we lived in Charleston. Our nephew has matured
into a fine man now. “Here's a funny one, nephew! I left you a
quarter too!” Sometimes a man has to answer the “call of
nature” twice, in one morning. On the Friday morning of our
departure, my wife was showering, in the downstairs bathroom. The
“call of nature” came upon me the second time. I decided to use
our nephew's upstairs bathroom. After having used his “porcelain
throne,” I placed a quarter on the tank lid! When I'd called my
sister, once we'd arrived back to our Tennessee home, I'd asked her
to tell her son, for me, “I hope that you get the quarter back!
I'm not talking football!” Our nephew helped so much, during
the last three years of his grandmother's life. His care, even when
it was difficult, demonstrates his honor to and love for the family.
Our nephew, as well as our niece, is appreciated and loved very much.
Great Nephews and Niece
As I've stated previously, our niece
has three children, who are our great nephews and niece. My wife and
I are their great aunt and uncle. Our adult great nephews live in
distant locations, so we were unable to meet them. We certainly hope
to meet them eventually! We are proud of them, based on how well
family speaks of them.
On the Wednesday of 7/12/2023, we met
our niece's teenage daughter (our great niece), Addy, at
Bootheel Youth Camp! In the tradition of polite Irish strong will,
Addy had insisted that my sister, my wife, and I visit her at camp
that evening. How could we resist? (Our plan had been to attend the
Wednesday evening Bible study, with the Charleston Church of Christ,
but we were able to visit with several church members the next day.)
Our niece is a fine, young, Christian lady! The section, below, for
that day, will include photographs and my podcast.
Family Reunion in
Charleston (7/11-14/2023)
Are you still with me, dear reader? I'm
glad. This is becoming a rather long short story! This section
highlights, by each day, the family reunion that my wife and I
enjoyed, with our Charleston, Missouri, family. The summer
weather was warmer and drier than usual. I tried to encourage the
rain, in Tennessee, to follow us to Missouri, but it didn't. The
farmland needed rain. Irrigation was helping. On a daily basis, the
morning clouds looked like rain coming, but the afternoons brought
mostly sunny sky.
Southeast Missouri, around Charleston,
is flat. I mean flat. Driving about 30 miles north or west, from
Charleston, farther into Missouri, presents rolling hills. How do
cattle stand on four legs, without tipping over, on the side of a
Tennessee hill? One side of their legs is shorter than the other! As
long as they walk around the hill, in the same direction, they don't
tip over! That's a little joke, between my Missouri family and
me, y'all!
7/11/2023, Tuesday
The date, in 1991, was 32 years ago,
exactly, when Mama went to see Jesus. The preparations for our trip
precluded my remembrance of that unplanned coincidence. My sister
reminded me of the timing, upon our arrival. Mama would have been
pleased.
The Drive to Charleston --
Don't Take Wrong Turns!
My wife and I left our Tennessee home,
in the rental car, at 10:12 AM EDST. “Google Maps” has estimated
370 miles, in about six and a half hours. Charleston, Missouri, is in
the Central “Daylight Savings” Time zone (CDST). (Daylight is not
“saved!” The sun rises and sets an hour later. I won't get on
that soapbox, however! My latest rant on this is the article
of 3/12/2023.)
We arrived at my sister's home, at 5:20
PM CDST. We gained an hour, by changing time zones. The trip took 404
miles, in eight hours and eight minutes! In Nashville, we made the
mistake of following the suggestion of my wife's youngest sister, who
lives in Nashville. It wasn't her sister's fault. We just missed an
exit. Later, after we had taken the Mayfield-Paducah, Kentucky exit,
we took the left fork, instead of the right fork. That mistake cost
us more time and miles, as we back tracked.
This section is on “driving
theology.” Don't follow the suggestions of others, unless they
are based on common sense and biblical wisdom! You can get back on
the right road, but you'll regret the back tracking. Also, always
take the right fork that leads in the right direction. Just turn
right and go straight in life! That's a sermon for today.
Our Arrival
My sister and her daughter greeting us
warmly! It was as if we'd just seen each other the day before! Even
if family doesn't get to see each other often, when family get
together, well, it's family!
“Our bedroom,” as Sis. calls it, is
the same room, in which Mother had slept. She passed to glory in that
room. Several family photographs adorn the walls. My wife and I felt
at home instantly. We slept well, each night.
Four other family members arrived,
shortly after we'd brought in our luggage. They were Dennis
and his brother, Mike, and Bobby Gene and his teenage
grandson, Gavin. Conversations were as if we'd not been apart
that long. Gavin is not a boy. He is a young man, as I emphasized to
him! His intellect, manners, respect, and reasoning reflect the
wisdom of an older person. We look forward to learning how God uses
this young man, in His service. Remember, you are either a
missionary or a mission area -- depending on if you are a Christian
or not. Christians, in any line of work, should be missionaries, as
they go about their secular work.
Just before supper, I had the
opportunity to converse, by phone, with Travis, a man, whom we
remember well. Years ago, I was honored to perform the wedding
ceremony, for his wife, Kelly,
and him. Their children are adults now. His wife and he live in
central Kentucky, a long drive from Charleston. With follow up phone
conversations, my wife and I hope to get together with this fine
couple, perhaps in the latter part of this month. They are
Christians, and he continues his fulltime ministry, which he began,
when we lived in Missouri.
Supper
I forgot to call them “Carol Sue
potatoes!” My sister, with help from others, had placed a lot
of hard work and love, into supper preparations, despite her
“whatevers” (as I call mine). An abundance of delicious food and
spirited conversation were enjoyed! I even ate dessert, which is rare
for me. Eighth family members enjoyed the supper and conversation.
Bobby Gene and Gavin stayed a good
while, after the other family members left. My sister, my wife, and I
enjoyed the ongoing conversation, on several points. Why don't
folks just sit around and talk, like they used to do? Turn off the
TV! Put away the “semi-intelligent” (as I call them) cell phones!
Look at each other. Talk! (Well,
there's another soapbox.)
7/12/2023, Wednesday
After a good night's sleep, the morning
started with coffee, breakfast, and conversations with my sister. I'm
glad that my sister was “feeling her oats” well enough, to have
us in her home and to do all the extra things that she did. Sis. has
a “bionic” body, but it's different than my “bionic” body. We
both held up well enough. I know that she felt her “whatevers,”
as I call mine, but her ailments didn't prevent her from doing all
that she did.
The Church Building &
Parsonage
Having borrowed a key, my wife and I
drove, in the early afternoon, to the church building. The building
is within walking distance to the parsonage, where we used to live.
The locks to the building had been changed recently, so the key
didn't fit any lock.
At 12:55 PM, my wife took the
photograph, below, of me, standing beside the church sign, with the
church building (and the rental car) behind us.
The building looked about the same, on
the outside. The roof and the sign are new. The three entrance doors
(white, under the steeple) have been closed in, to make windows. I'm
standing, looking northeast, so the view is to the southwest. The
same trees were smaller, years ago. Did I hear someone ask why I
have a sock on my right foot only? I thought so. That's a small
support sock, for my “bionic” right foot. My foot wasn't
bothering me anymore than usual. I'd just decided to wear the sock.
The parsonage is a few yards to the
east of the church building. I'd taken the following photograph, a
minute before the one above. I was standing at about the same spot,
as in the image above.
The parsonage, with the new red roof,
is in the center of the image, on the corner. The high school is
farther east, behind the house, in the view. The walk to the church
building takes about a minute only!
Visiting Downtown
My sister had called my wife, since I
might have been driving, to suggest that we visit a business on Main
Street. Biologically kin Ferrell relatives of mine have that
business. Years ago, two Ferrells (sister Pearl and her son,
Harry) and I figured out how we were related distantly. Sister
Pearl had transitioned to her everlasting Home, at age 97, on
6/14/2020.
We were able to say howdy to Jayne
Ellen! (Her grandmother is who passed, at age 97.) Jayne Ellen's
mother, Dianna, wasn't at the office that day, but saw her the
next day. We enjoyed catching up on family and life news!
Afterward, my wife and I returned to my
sister's home. We'd not been hungry, for the noon meal, before we
left. We were hungry, once we returned! We a late dinner (or lunch,
as Yankee's call it).
Bootheel Youth Camp!
At 5:28 PM CDST, my sister, my wife,
and I traveled, in the rental, to Bootheel
Youth Camp. The camp is near the small town of Bloomfield,
Missouri, about 40 miles west, from my sister's house. As I've
mentioned earlier, our great niece had wanted us to attend the
Wednesday evening (7 PM) devotional with her. This was her third week
at camp! The only way that she could meet us was if we drove to visit
her. We were glad to do so!
My wife and I served as camp
counselors, for one week, each summer, during our time in Missouri. I
remembered the drive well. We'd hoped to arrive in time for supper.
Supper was already over. (Like Old Dan Tucker, we were “just a
standin’ thar lookin’.”) Thankfully, we'd had a late
dinner, so we weren't hungry.
At first, we couldn't find Addy (our
great niece). Stan, the camp director that week, is a fine
brother in Christ, whom I remembered well. He and I are the same age.
He's been serving as the minister, for the same congregation, since
December 1988! We enjoyed a good conversation, with his wife, Millie,
and him. We also conversed with a wonderful camp counselor, Kim.
This sister in Christ was in the youth group, when I served the
Dexter Church of Christ, as the associate minister. She attended the
camp, as a camper, back then. We saw how this young lady had matured
into a fine Christian adult. We reacquainted ourselves with her
mother also. Kim shared how her grandfather had been killed, due
to a tragic accident, last year. I shared my cell phone number with
Stan and Kim. I hope that we keep in touch.
We finally found Addy, amidst
the large crowd of campers, adult staff, and visitors! This teenage
sister in Christ is a joy! Her mother and grandmother are rightly
proud of her. My wife and I, as great aunt and uncle, were so happy
to meet her, and we are proud of her! I wonder how the Lord will use
her, as a blessing to many, in life. We know that she loves the Lord!
Are you ready for photographs and a
podcast? I thought so!
A nearby adult took the above
photograph at 7:49 PM. From left to right are Addy, yours truly, Mrs.
Appalachian Irishman, and my sister. Our smiles reflect the joy of
the moment! The cafetorium was filled with campers and adults.
I took the above photograph, at 8:11
PM, looking northwest. The cafetorium is the larger building, with my
wife and sister standing in front. The snack shack and the craft
shack compose the smaller building, to the right (or east). Several
campers were gathered in that area. Before the photograph, a teenage
camper had been saved! Her faith had led her to repent of her sins,
dedicate her life to Christ, confess Jesus as Lord, and be immersed.
We rejoiced in the salvation of a new sister in Christ!
I took the above photograph, which
looks northeast, at 8:22 PM, after I'd “hiked” northwest, from
the cafetorium, about 100 yards or so, to the boys' cabins. The dirt
and gravel trail curves up and down, around small hills. A wooden
bridge spans the ravine. The old cabins had been replaced by new
ones, which you see. The cabin, which housed teenage boys and me, as
counselor, was the one farthest to the right. The new cabin stands at
the same location. I was alone, except for the brother, who had
spoken at the devotional earlier. He and I exchanged brief
pleasantries, before he got into his truck, to leave. The second
tree, in the foreground, is about where I stood, for the podcast,
which follows. (Before recording the podcast, well, a man needs to
take a leak somewhere! The tree didn't mind.)
Seconds after the previous image, I
turned and took the above photograph, looking southeast. I'm about to
“hike” back across that wooden bridge. The cafetorium, not
visible, is behind the hill.
Appalachian
Irishman - Podcasts (on YouTube) has the podcast that I recorded
moments after the above photograph. It's titled: “Bootheel
Youth Camp: 'Hike' across the Boys' Ridge Bridge (published
7-26-2023; episode 15).” I hope that
you enjoy the 56 seconds of my “hiking humor!” The bridge is
safe, even if it is a little uneven!
As an aside, the cafetorium still has
the same ceiling fans, which another man and I installed, decades
ago, during a work session. The building, the cabins, and the
bathhouses are now air conditioned! I was amazed! When we served as
counselors, only the small kitchen area, in the cafetorium, was air
conditioned! I used to go into the kitchen, with any chore or excuse,
as often as I could! Air conditioned cabins? That ain't camping!
My wife, my sister, and I arrived back
in Charleston, at 10:35 PM. We ate a late supper, about 11 PM! We
weren't all that hungry, but we needed to eat a bite. We were
filled with the spiritual joy that we'd experienced at Bootheel
Youth Camp!
7/13/2023, Thursday
As “baby brother,” I tried to help
my older sister, whenever she'd let me. The kitchen door, which leads
out to the back porch, had squeaky hinges. Midmorning, after
breakfast, showers, and conversation, I drove the rental to the
nearby Family Dollar store. I returned with a generic version of
WD-40. My sister's kitchen door does not squeak now. I had to do it.
Before returning, however, I'd driven
about five miles south of Charleston, to the Mississippi County
Airport. I'd served as chaplain, in the Air
Force Civil Air Patrol Auxiliary, during our time in Charleston.
Another senior officer and I enjoyed molding those fine, young
cadets, into future Air Force officers. (Well, I was also helping
them to become or to grow as Christians.)
I took the above photograph, at 10:06
AM. I remember parking our 1984 Chevy Chevette, near that entrance
door, many times. Civil Air Patrol meetings were held inside the
building. I don't recall which year it was, back in the late 1980s,
but a storm brought small tornadoes upon us, during an evening
meeting. The cadets, the other senior member, and I left quickly and
arrived to our homes safely. As the last to leave, the rain blew into
me, horizontally, across the ground, as I locked the door and hurried
to the car! Once I arrived home, I found that my wife had secured
herself in the bathroom closet. A microburst (or small tornado) had
lifted a small storage shed (with walls but no floor), in the back
yard of the parsonage, up and on top of a rose bush trellis, which
was full of roses. The shed had been directly beside the trellis. The
shed had risen at least five feet into the air, moved about three
feet, and landed on top of the trellis. The next day, with help, the
storage shed was returned to its correct location. Neither the shed,
rose bush, nor the trellis was damaged! That's a true story, folks.
I was pleasantly surprise, once I'd
returned home, to find several church family, who had come to visit!
Even though over two decades had passed, conversations were as if
we'd just seen each other a few days ago! James Larry and his
brother Garry were there. Their sister, Judy, and her
adult daughter, Abby, were there. Cindy, a sister in
Christ, who now lives in the parsonage, was there. Later, Dianna,
a sister in Christ and a distant Ferrell relative, came by also. One
of these fine days, conversations in heaven, with many saints, will
be everlastingly wonderful. That church gathering, in my sister's
home, was a foretaste of those heavenly conversations! By the
way, Cindy, they are kitchen cabinet tops, not counter tops!
I won that humorous little debate! I wish that someone or I had
thought to take at least one photograph. We were enjoying the
conversations too much!
Cindy drove Judy, Abby, my wife, and me
to the church building. I enjoyed seeing my old office and the rest
of the building. In that small office, I'd worked on many sermons,
Bible class teaching notes, church bulletins, local newspaper
articles (titled “Spiritual Gleanings”), and graduate
school class notes and papers.
I took the above photograph, at 2:16
PM. I was standing in the glass-enclosed balcony. The view looks
west. The pulpit, communion table, pews, and carpet are still the
same. The pulpit still has the slightly worn marks, where several
preachers, including yours truly, have rested their hands, over the
decades. I remember when the drop ceiling (white, above the light
fixtures) was installed. The church building looked empty, since the
church wasn't inside for worship or Bible study, at the time. I
remember well, when the Sunday morning worship attendance was about
70 to 80 brothers and sisters in Christ, visitors, and children.
As we were going outside, right on
time, as expected, Pete, the current minister, arrived! (His
wife and he live in a nearby town.) I don't know how much time
passed, while the six of us talked, under the shade of the entrance
door covering. Pete, a military veteran, was wearing his cap that
signifies his service. We shook hands, hugged, and I thanked him for
his service -- to this nation and in the kingdom of Christ.
Interestingly, Pete knows well a husband and his wife, Dan and
Brenda, who are from my hometown. I'd met them, back in the early
1980s. They were a missionary family, for over two decades, in Ghana,
West Africa. Pete had made short-term mission trips to Russia, years
ago. I wish that we had met him, during our five-years of mission
work there.
During our final evening, with my
sister, our niece came by again for another visit. We talked about
our visit at Bootheel Youth Camp. Apparently, the camp is in need of
more adult volunteers, to serve as board members, directors, and
counselors.
To all able-bodied Christian adults, in southeast Missouri,
please, in Christ's name, volunteer to help Bootheel Youth Camp!
Don't make this Tennessean drive back out there soon, to show you how
to volunteer! Too many youth are being influenced, by satanic forces,
to go the wrong way in life. Remember, “as the twig bends, so grows
the tree.” The Christian leaders of tomorrow need your spiritual
leadership today! I have spoken. Do I hear an amen? I thought so!
Our last evening, in my sister's home,
was once of joyous conversation and reflection. I've already
commented previously, on some of our interaction. Sis., our home
in Tennessee is the home of your family and you also. Y'all are
welcome to come and stay anytime. We know that your Missouri home is
our home also. We're family.
7/14/2023, Friday
Unlike the everlasting joy of a family
reunion in heaven, our family reunion was ending. I've already
written about the two quarters and about Mike's cap. After breakfast,
showers, and packing the rental car, my wife and I were ready for the
long drive back to our Tennessee home.
My wife and I hugged and said our
goodbyes to my sister. До свидания,
in Russian, means, literally, “until we meet again.”
(The word is usually translated “goodbye.”) As I shared with my
sister, I hope, Lord willing, that my wife and I can begin
making annual visits, to Charleston, Missouri.
(My “bionic” body handled this trip much better than I'd
anticipated.) Next year, we may need to arrange our visit, around the
plan that my sister and her granddaughter have to visit Ireland.
Sis., buy that exercise equipment and use it, according to
your plan! That will help you get around even better!
Departing Charleston
At 9:12 AM, my wife and I headed east,
toward Kentucky, in the rental. The weather was cloudy, with no rain.
Yes, Sis., we wore our seat belts. Their is a family tradition
behind telling folks, as they are leaving, not to forget to wear
their seat belts. It doesn't imply that those leaving won't wear
them. It's just a saying, to bring good luck in travels.
Previous phone conversations, with Joe
Paul and Lynn, had set the ground work for a reunion of two families,
of the three families, which composed the Mission Moscow team. My
wife called Joe Paul, just as I'd started driving. We arranged our
reunion, in Lebanon, Tennessee.
At 11:23 AM CDST, we stopped at the
visitor center, after we'd crossed from Kentucky into Tennessee. The
restrooms were calling, so we had to go. I was hungry for a snack. I
wish that my wife had recorded me, speaking to the robotic snack
dispensing machines! The small group that was there, apparently,
enjoyed my conversation with the robots!
Mission Moscow
Reunion (7/14/2023)
At 1:12 PM CDST, we arrived at the
O'Charley's restaurant, in Lebanon, Tennessee. Awaiting us outside
were Joe Paul and Lynn! We hugged and launched directly into
pleasant conversations, as if we'd seen each other yesterday!
We enjoyed a good meal, as we continued
to converse about many enjoyable topics. At times, Lynn and my wife
were so fully into their conversations that Joe Paul and I just
looked at each other and laughed! He and I exchanged under toned
remarks about them, which they never did hear!
Joe Paul, do you remember, the day after my wife and I arrived in
Moscow, how I forestalled your effort to appoint me as team
treasurer? I do. I started counting and multiplying numbers, making
intentional errors. You corrected one error. I replied, “Since I
can't do math, then I can't take the job as team treasurer!”
One of these days, a book should be
written, about the experiences of the Mission Moscow team. We endured
defeats and setbacks, but the Lord brought several victories, to His
glory.
To any missionaries or future
missionaries reading this article, what is the first requirement, for
mission work? (Pause a while to think, before reading further.)
Yes, studying missiology and cross-cultural evangelism is good.
Studying the mission work of the apostle Paul is good. Following the
example of Jesus, the greatest missionary, is a must. Learning the
history and the culture of the country is good. Reading important
literary works, by renowned writers of the country, is good.
Listening to the classical and contemporary music, of the country, is
good. Becoming aware of the nation's political trends is good.
Studying and learning the language, of course, is good. These are all
good answers. None of them, however, is the first requirement for
mission work.
The first requirement is: stay out of God's way! God
will work His will, through your imperfect efforts, if you let Him.
Just stay out of His way. God will glorify Himself, by your service
to Him. He will guide your steps, as you seek His guidance, in
prayer. Also, remember, do not rush God's agenda.
Be patient. Mission work is not measured in weeks, months, or even
years. It is measured in decades.
That's another sermon, especially to
missionaries or future missionaries, y'all! The photograph, below,
introduces Joe Paul and Lynn, our fellow missionaries, in Russia.
At 3:33 PM CDST, I photographed Joe
Paul and Lynn, above, as we continued our conversation outside the
restaurant. Why did Joe Paul pick up the nickname “goat?” Is it
because of his goatee?
With plans to get together as soon and
often as we can, my wife and I embraced Joe Paul and Lynn, said our
“until next time” goodbyes, and continued our drive back to our
Tennessee home. I happened to notice the time, as I started the
rental car. It was 3:42 PM CDST. We had shared two and a half
hours of fellowship with Joe Paul and Lynn! It felt as if we'd
visited about an hour or so only. Time flies, while enjoying
fellowship, with good Christian friends!
Arrival to Our
Tennessee Home
We stopped only once, to get gas, in
Cookeville. Shortly afterward, we crossed back into the eastern time
zone. At 7:40 PM EDST, we arrived back to our Tennessee home. Molly,
our ol' puppy, was certainly glad to see us! A good neighbor, a
sister-in-law, and her daughter had been tending to Molly's food,
water, and companionship needs. Thanks, y'all!
Our total drive time -- not factoring
the two and a half hour Mission Moscow team reunion -- was six hours
and 58 minutes. We drove 369 miles, on our return.
My “driving
theology” states that, when you stay on the right roads, you get to
the right place quicker! Y'all please remember that, before you take
wrong turns, on the road of life.
Conclusion
Whew! Are you about tired of reading,
dear reader? I'm winding down now. Thanks for sticking around with
me. I started writing this article, on or about Sunday, 7/16/2023.
I've worked on it some, almost every day, until the published date.
Reunions with our family, in
Charleston, Missouri, and with Joe Paul and Lynn, members of the
Mission Moscow team, kindle deep thoughts on the everlasting reunion
that awaits us. Time, distance, and ailments delay or forestall
reunions while we are here.
By the assurance of verified and
solid faith, my mind sees the everlasting reunions that are
continuing now, at the everlasting Home, where so many already are.
We miss those dear family and friends, brothers and sisters in
Christ, every one. We will see them again, to join the everlasting
reunion, once our time on earth comes to an end -- if we are
ready. Physical death is merely the transition to everlasting
existence -- somewhere.
Dear reader, you are either ready
for that transition or not. Many readers are. Some may not be. I
remain one poor beggar, who found the Bread of Life, and who tries to
share the Bread. If you aren't ready for the transition from
physical life to everlasting life, to experience the everlasting joy
of heaven, then please turn right and go straight, before it's too
late! (Everlasting torment isn't the right turn.) You are welcome to
send me a private and confidential email, on the “Contact Form.”
I will be glad to continue our private correspondence.
This is the Appalachian Irishman,
wishing all the family (physical, adoptive, and spiritual) God's
richest blessings, while he signs off for now. As the Irish say,
“May you be in heaven a half hour, before the devil knows
that you’re dead!”
Posts
