Rise and Shine

Rise and Shine

      “Over there, is Cumberland Island,” The elderly man said as he pointed Northwest of us across the marsh and the intracoastal rivers. I stood there on the boat ramp shielding my eyes from the sun, soaking in the primal smells, and the salty aroma of the coast. I was almost there. I love the Coast and the wildlife sanctuary at Cumberland, it has always been at the top of my list of places to make a part of me. Camping only, with no hot water, no malls, no stuff. I was feeling sick of the ‘stuff’ world I live in. We give away stuff to make room for more stuff. We go in debt for more and more stuff that has little or no value soon after it is purchased. For a few days I was going to leave all the bills and the stuff behind and walk around with God and my camera.

          After the long ride, I tied my little Ogeechee river boat to the pier, letting out a sigh of relief. My little skiff was not designed for the open coast and brackish water had been licking over the sides at times when the water was choppy. From the dock at St. Mary’s, the island seemed so close, but it took me forty five minutes on the winding waterways and then across the open waters of the Sound. I looped my rope around one of the thick wooden posts at the dock. I decided to leave my gear for later and walked the long pier and path to the ranger station. I had not made a mistake in coming here, the twisted oaks and saw palmettos, though familiar to me, were different here. Each tree painfully shaped by relentless sun and ocean winds, told its own story. They were each joined at the canopy to provide almost complete cover. From the canopy down to the top of the saw palmettos were masses of twisted limbs so distorted that they could have been their own abstract art piece, seeming to have no rhyme or reason in their lines. Indeed, this was a very special place; very old, very worn, very strong, very independent.

          The next morning I awoke long before daylight, which is unusual for me. I had a sense that God was saying, “Get up, I have something to show you.” I was wide awake immediately, no coffee. I stepped out of the tent. It was very dark, still too dark to see the fog, but I could feel it as it embraced me like a blanket. I looked around, but could not make out any shapes. God didn’t say a word, but there was an overwhelming desire to get ready for something that was about to happen. I felt around for my camera gear. I found my tripod and my large format camera. In a moment I had my Hasselblad, which any photographer knows is one of the greatest cameras of all time. They took it to the moon for a reason, with the right photographer, it can make iconic images, clear and brilliant, but with feeling. I decided to leave the large format camera and just take the ‘Hass’ and tripod. It was a good decision.

          By memory, I headed toward the beach. If I ran into palmettos, I was off the path, it was simple. I was thinking, as I fumbled along with my gear in tow, about how early it was and how out of character this predawn jaunt was for me. After about fifty yards or so, God showed up. I looked up from following the path and there they were. Angels seemed to be breaking through the thick tree canopy and the fog in beams of light. It was indescribably beautiful as they tickled the tips of the palmettos and spilled onto the ground. I could now begin to realize just how thick the fog was.

          I headed towards the tall dune that defined the island interior, to go out towards the beach. As I came closer to leaving the interior, I sensed I should stop, but I wanted to catch the sunrise. “Turn around.” I heard the words, very soft, very distinct. I sat my gear down and turned around. Beautiful beams of light were cascading through the canopy and dancing on the twisted limbs and palmettos of the island’s interior. It was a symphony of light, shadows and shapes. It was breathtaking and magnificent. Only God could paint something that was so beautiful it seemed as if you could see, hear, and taste its intensity. I must have shot a dozen rolls of medium format through the Hasselblad in the few moments that I had. I realized that I was losing the moment, the fog, the angel lightshow. I was alone in a stand of palmettos looking around and soaking up the beauty and the sea air rolling in. A lone twisted old oak with long low branches, stood near the path leading to the ocean. The dune was high behind it and was nearly as tall as the tree.  The fog seemed to be holding there next to the back of that dune and the beams of light were still there dancing to some heavenly tune. I got into position and worked around the tree as a breeze rustled the leaves and the birds were beginning to sing.

      At some point I just stopped tripping the shudder and I stood there taking in all the smells and sounds and the glorious sunshine filling the earth as it pushed out the darkness. There were no words, just peace. I knew that my Lord had taken me, His son, for a walk. It was unbelievable. I later told God that He was just showing off that morning on Cumberland Island, and I enjoyed every moment of it.

{This was a trip in 2006, a much needed break. I used to enjoy photography in the days when black and white photography was still dominated by film. I still haven't been able to get the same results from digital technology so I rarely carry a camera these days ....miss my film rolls!}

Kissin' and Cupcakes

Kissin’ and Cupcakes

          I remember the first time that I kissed a girl. I liked it …. a lot! When I think about the kiss, it was actually kind of odd, but in a good way. We had been playing hide and seek in my backyard when there was an overwhelming chemical reaction that even my ten year old brain realized was about to result in a kiss. Being a young lady and resident brownie scout, she decided that this kiss shouldn’t occur in this location. The giant tree we were behind shielded us from prying eyes, which I thought to be quite an adequate place for a kiss. But I am a male, so my opinion was politely dismissed. This wouldn’t be the last time I had to wait on a woman.

          I don’t recall how, but we ended up on the couch in the living room and she was giving instructions. On the count of “three” we were to kiss. Man, when “three” got there, I think my left shoe popped off. Wow! You never forget your first kiss. I thought for sure this would result in marriage and some kids. But alas, it was a short romance, mom’s footsteps were coming down the hall. Mom came in the living room with some cupcakes and milk and I was pretty sure that it wasn’t going to get any better than this, right here and now, kissin’ and cupcakes.

          Fast forward a few decades and I have had a lot of ‘firsts’. First date, first drive, first homerun, first touchdown, first truck, first girl wrecking truck, first daughter, first job, it’s a long list. With each first came a thrill and a sense of accomplishment or guilt, according to the nature of the “first”. Most of us have a tendency to chase that thrill or reminisce longingly for the thrill of a “first’ or of youth. I have chased that rabbit and I bet most of you have too. If we aren’t careful, chasing that ‘first’ rabbit can lead us down into some deep dark holes where things get ugly. When we allow ourselves to become bored or discontent in our life, you can bet that the devil will send a rabbit, i.e. temptation, our way. How do we find ‘lasting’ contentment which is the opposite of chasing the rabbit, the momentary thrill? Philosophers, psychiatrists, and ten cent self-help gurus have written volumes on the subject of contentment or happiness.

          It is a basic human need to be loved and accepted. Without this basic need being satisfied, we will never receive lasting contentment and joy {what a wonderful word}. Where does one find such love and acceptance? God, who created us in His image, is Love. 1 John 4:8 Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In order to be content, we must know that we are valuable enough to be loved. God made us to have a relationship with Him. God doesn’t make mistakes; He made you exactly as He wants you to be. God even sent His son, Jesus, to become a sinless sacrifice covering our sins with His grace to make us righteous and able to have a relationship with Him! When we give our self to Jesus, we become a child of God, and in that relationship we find the ultimate love and joy.

          Why are there so many sour faced Christians then? We have trouble receiving Gods love. His love is tremendous and wonderful, but we don’t fully trust God. We block our own blessings. It is our nature to take care of problems, to make plans, to do it on our own. We lack faith in God to handle our “little” problems. We are supposed to leave our cares and burdens at the Cross where Jesus died for us. We take our bag of burdens to the Lord and we get on our knees and pray about our burdens. The problem comes when we finish praying. We pick our bag of burdens up and get back to our routine. We pull our burdens back out and speak negatively about them and cry with our friends about them. We make plans to solve our problems and even create a mental wheelbarrow to carry our burdens, all because we never trusted God to take care of them! Peter walked on water in the midst of a storm as long as his eyes were on Jesus. He got into trouble when he saw the waves and doubt crept in. His faith was compromised when his thoughts became negative. He sank because he doubted. I certainly am not looking down on Peter. He walked on water with Jesus. How awesome is that?!

          To be happy, to have joy, to know love, we must learn to trust God in His promise to take care of His children. Seek the Kingdom of God first and all these things will be added unto you, says the Lord. Pray, obey God’s commands, bless others and put God first. If we can do these things then we will avoid most joy destroying, self - destructive behavior that the devil has taught us! In this world, the prince of darkness will find a way to hurt us through a loved one or a boss or some other means. But, we know, that God will work ALL things to the good of those who love Him! We can be content if we choose or we can chase rabbits. Being content doesn’t mean that we don’t strive for better for ourselves and others. We just have to make sure that we don’t put ourselves first, but God and neighbors. To know true joy, we have to learn how to truly be thankful for Christ’s love and what we already are blessed with.

Keep walking,

Kenton

          

The Greatest Lesson I ever learned

The Greatest Lesson I ever learned

          I grew up in the shadow of a giant. My dad was a Georgia Bulldog fullback and evidently a really good one. As a skinny little kid growing up, I had other giants like Vince Dooley and Erk Russell that would slap me on the back and say something like, “I hope you’re as good a ballplayer as your Dad was.” Grown men felt compelled to tell me about how Ronnie Jenkins ran through them in practice and they awoke in St. Mary’s hospital a couple of days later with nuns praying over them.

          Imagine a tiny 9 year old sandlot football hero suiting up in full pads for the first time. After the pants pads and the giant shoulder pads, then they capped me off with a 27 pound helmet. I fell over. The fullback stood me back on my feet, “Alright Bigboy,” that’s what he called me, “go get ‘em!” I hustled out onto the field, sideways until I got my head straightened and joined the huddle. Another overdressed kid handed me the ball and I zigged and zagged for a first down. As they tackled me that first time my helmet mask filled with grass and dirt flew into my mouth. I stood on shaky legs and examined myself. Nothing was broken, I noticed that I had dirt and grass stains all over my previously clean uniform. Then my teammates were shouting for joy and jumping all over me. This was goooood stuff. I had found heaven on earth.

          I scored a touchdown or two and then, out of the blue, tragedy struck. I ran the ball right up their gut, right in the middle for about a five yard gain. In the following huddle a kid yelled, “Hey! Your bleeding bad.” Sure enough, I looked down and discovered that my left pants leg was covered in blood. I realized that my left middle finger had a gash on one side that was deep. The warrior was wounded. I squalled like a banshee. I was crying so hard that I couldn’t find the sideline. Eventually me and my mortal wound made it to the sideline and the big fullback was there waiting on me. I distinctly remember that he had on his favorite blue pointer overalls. I was sobbing uncontrollably as he examined the wound. He loved me and spoke words of comfort as I began to settle down. He turned my finger and opened the cut while I watched. “Hmmm, that is pretty deep.” He said. I realized immediately that stitches were required. I had gotten stitches several times already, so I knew about those. He took the middle finger of my left hand and gently pressed it together with the one next to the wound to stop the bleeding. With his right hand he reached into his back pocket and pulled out the biggest red handkerchief that I had ever seen. He talked to me as he snugly bound the fingers together with the red handkerchief. I remember wondering whether there were any doctors still working because it was nearly dark. I was startled back to reality from my thoughts of ambulances and lovely nurses when my hero slapped my shoulder pads loudly and said, “Alright Bigboy, go get ’em!”

          “Huh?!” was all I could muster. I stood bewildered, as I looked down at my still outstretched hand, now bedazzled with a giant red handkerchief tied in a large knot. But I am injured, I thought to myself. I looked up at the giant in disbelief as he stuffed some chewing tobacco into his jaw and gazed out onto the field at the game, which to my utter disbelief, had continued even in this moment of tragedy.  I was just staring up at my dad, trying to process all this, when he looked down at me and said, “Whatcha’ waitin’ on?” He turned me towards the game, my hand still outstretched in front of me, popped me on the but, “Go get ‘em!” And then he shoved me back across that white line that separated the warriors from the cheerleaders.

          It wasn’t long before I realized that I could still function. I even scored another touchdown. I did get stitches, but more importantly, I got a backbone. All because my Dad wouldn’t let me lay down and quit. I learned that win or lose, hurt or not, you never stay out of the game for long. I realized that there is a time to cry, but in the end, you have to get back in the game.

          I wonder how Jesus felt as he cried out to the Father to take the cup from him. He already knew what His fate was and He knew the pain he would have to suffer to save the world from death in sin. In the garden of Gethsemane He laid on the ground and poured out His soul to His Father as blood dripped from his nose. His friends slept soundly as He lamented His fate, even though He had asked them to stay up with Him this one night, they slept. I know that it is an unfair comparison, but when I notice that little scar that remains on the side of my finger, I think of how Jesus’ Dad must have told Him that He had to finish. Jesus’ didn’t have friends cheering him on to touchdowns. Jesus had people mocking and spitting on Him. They beat Him and tore the flesh from His body and made Him carry His own cross as people mocked, not cheered Him. He did all that and more for me ….. and you.

          When this old world hurts me and I want to quit and give up, I think about what Jesus went through for me. People submit to the evil in the world and hurt each other either to raise themselves or just because the evil in them gets joy from breaking whatever is good and of God. Jesus warned us that this was the way the world and the prince of it had treated Him and that we could probably expect the same to some extent if we took up our cross and followed Him. I have trials and sorrows but my heavenly Father loves and comforts me. I know that a promise awaits me. I know that when I finish the race that my Father awaits with open arms. I know that I will celebrate life as it was meant to be with my brothers and sisters in Christ and the beautiful angels. I may be hurt, but I know that I am already saved and that whatever problems arise, I already have the solution. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Get back in the game and love…. finish the race.

Kenton J

          

Father's Day Gift

Father’s Day Gift

          I gave my Dad an unusual Fathers Day present. I was at a loss as to what to buy him since he is the quintessential, impossible to buy for, Dad. He doesn’t need or want much and he already has every tool made. After some thought, I realized that “we” were what he wanted. He loves his family and friends. His favorite thing to do these days is meet new people and share stories. He has been so looking forward to getting together with his old football buddies at the UGA - Tennessee game this coming season. The alumni will be celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of Coach Dooley’s first UGA team. As many of you already know, my Dad was fullback on the team. Well, the thought of the stories I have heard, and some are outrageous,  got me to thinking about his love of the shared memory and what to get him for Father’s day.

          My gift to Dad was an empty journal. I have heard thousands of interesting stories about his growing up in the woods logging in Glennville, Georgia and life as a college football player. The crazy characters and their lives such as the eight year old cousin that stayed home from school sick and the uncle that hid a bunch of mason jars of moonshine under the covers with him because the sheriff made an unexpected visit. How about the time his mother set her pistol on the counter at the Dairy Queen as she rifled through her pocketbook looking for her wallet to pay for the ice cream. The checkout girl ran to the back screaming. Grandma Betty just looked up and said, “What in the world is wrong with her?” The boys were in the floor laughing as the pistol just sat there on the counter looking completely out of place.

          My point is not for my Dad to live in the past, but for him to share his and my mother’s life with us. Just yesterday after lunch, we laughed as he was telling about he and Uncle Mike would race the little Ford tractors they pulled logs with. They got stuck every way you can, turned over and thrown off. “it’s a wonder we didn’t get killed!” he said. I believe people should enjoy being who they are and not try to be something else to impress the world. Ronnie Jenkins likes being a man. What you see is what you get, no politics and no fluff. He’s always enjoyed being greasy and dirty and satisfied that he stuck with the job until he whipped it. I am glad that I have been greasy and dirty beside him for a good portion of it.

          I hope my Mom and Dad adjust to this new season in their lives as Dad is recovering from open heart surgery and I am sure that Mom is having to adjust to more together time with Dad. He is used to barking orders at a skinny boy who isn’t holding the flashlight just right to see the nut to turn so we can get that old log truck back to work at 5am tomorrow morning. What could be so wrong with reminiscing about a full and honest life?

          Dad’s life is changing. We move into new seasons in which God has new plans for us. I know my life certainly has changed. I hope Dad enjoys putting some of his memories into ink for generations of Jenkins’ and Olivers’ to enjoy. God gives us each day new, to be lived, loved and enjoyed to the full. Everyday God renews His love, grace, mercy and forgiveness. Therefore, we have no excuse that should allow the devil to steal our joy. If you are not in a new or different season in your life, you soon will be. Each day is a gift that we should accept and live fully in Christ so that when the day is done, the way we lived the day can be our gift back to God. Count your blessings and not your problems.  God loves you…. Love Him back with the life you live.

He prayed for me

He Prayed for Me

In the garden of Gethsemane He prayed. He prayed with such intensity that blood dripped from his forehead,. He prayed that our Father would ‘take the cup’ from him. It was not to be. In order for Kenton to be saved from evil and sure eternal damnation Jesus had to suffer greatly at the hands of evil. He would not be allowed to fight back. Jesus would have to submit to the punishment of demon controlled people. Jesus would have to go to the cross for me willingly to remove satan’s power over humanity. Jesus had the power to destroy all his enemies, but to regain the power over death and Hell that Adam had given away so freely…. to silence the accuser, He had to submit Himself as a spotless sacrifice. He even healed one of the men that came to take Him back to the Sanhedrin for the destruction of His flesh, so that they could so that they could spill the blood that would have the power to wash away my sins.

          How can we crucify Jesus over and over in our selfish lives by choosing the ways of the world of death instead of walking in the light. How can someone choose to satisfy a fleshly desire instead of the love of their family and God? Why does the greedy man hold on to things when so many are starving and suffering? Jesus gave us the Holy Spirit to live in us to guide our spirit and our flesh to God’s will. He created us for Himself.

          There is an old song that says, “Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.” Jesus suffered, died a sinners death, and was resurrected so that I can face tomorrow.  Because He lives, I can live in the light of his Truth, in the knowledge that I am one with Him and on some tomorrow He will present me blameless before my creator. Not because I lived a blameless life, but because His blood washes me clean and makes me righteous. I refuse to recrucify Jesus by following the the world, my flesh. I choose to follow Him, to love Him, no matter how narrow the path gets or steep the grade. God has blessed me so much. I pray that somehow I may be a blessing to Him. I love you and I hope that you are enjoying this beautiful walk. If you aren’t, then maybe you should check your heart and ask Jesus to wash all the filth from it that can accumulate  from this life.

Romans 12:2

Granddaddy Doss' teaching on love

Granddaddy Doss’ teaching on Love

          The greatest sermons are the ones that we "see" lived out by someone important in our life. As a teenage boy, I was spending the summer at my mother's parents. The Grandfather clock chimed its news that it had for us as I turned down the hallway toward the bathroom.  I saw the bathroom door swing open and was about to turn my eyes away when I realized that both of them were in their pajamas. Bath time, I would soon realize, was an ordeal as my Grandmother Doss was stricken with osteoporosis and the disease had nearly immobilized her. I saw my Grandfather lean his seventy  plus year old body over and scoop the little lady up in his arms before I could offer to help. He had her night gown on her, and Frances, although small in stature, was delivering her bedtime orders as usual. She was chattering away, “now Bonnie, you make sure those apple fritters get covered up and set in the oven and wipe that table good and see to it that ……” He winked at me as they came through the doorway. He laughed his funny sideways laugh, “Yes, yes, yes, Frances, I will take care of it.” He had a way of picking at her and she would just shake her finger and out would come his sideways laugh again. That laugh of his would really ‘stir her soup’ and they would go back and forth talking until he got the covers pulled up just like she wanted. Then she would send him to tidy her kitchen. Then, regular as the sun setting, he would sit at the table in the middle of the little kitchen and have a glass of buttermilk and cornbread stirred to just the right consistency. Grandma would call him to come to bed and he would only stop to brush his teeth on the way. I could hear his prayers drifting through the house. I pictured him in my mind, on his knees, beside his bed as I had witnessed many times.  

          To this day, seeing my elderly grandfather carry his bride out of that bathroom was and is the greatest act of love I had ever witnessed. It spoke volumes of the commitment and unwavering dedication that he demonstrated daily. He labored with a smile because he was glad to serve as his Lord and his circumstances required. I never heard him complain about anything, save possibly the crooked politician or a weak preacher who wouldn’t stand up for God's Word. He studied his bible daily. Pastors and Sunday school teachers could be found occasionally in their living room testing the soundness of their doctrine with Brother Doss. He planted a bigger garden than we thought he should, every spring with a push plow. Grapevines, chickens, cows and horse apple trees made their homes there too. On the back porch there were mason jars and old cans full of all kinds of things from leather shoe laces to straightened nails. Nothing was wasted and everything had its place. Be careful, because there is not a rail around the back porch. If you make your way down to the root cellar you would find lots of sweet potatoes laid on the cool red clay steps that were hand cut out of the earth and mason jars filled with wonderfully tasty fruits and vegetables.

          As a teenager, I thought he was crazy for not selling his little 9 acre farm in the middle of bustling Lawrenceville, Georgia. The fancily attired real estate agents would dramatically set the grand figures in front of him and I would dream about all the boats and lake houses and toys that I could buy. Grandma would refill the tea glasses as he politely said “no thank you” for the umpteenth time. What I realize now, that I was blind to at the time, is that you can’t buy that kind of life with money. The kind of life they had has to be sweated out and prayed for and worked through to the finish, in love.

          It took many years to sink in, but in watching their life I have come to realize a few things about love. Love does not sell itself short to the world nor can it be exchanged for currency. Love does not allow you to put your own wants in front of another's needs. Love does not flatter with empty compliments that make you think too much of yourself. Love never accepts disobedience, but disciplines in kindness and truth to circumcise the uncircumcised heart. Love finishes the job no matter how hot it is. Love will carry you through to the end. Love of Jesus is the most important thing that there is. I saw my grandparents walk out all of these principles and many more. I did not appreciate the fullness of their faith and love at the time, but now I see what a privilege it was to have such Godly people guiding my heart through the way they lived.
      I surely do miss standing on Granddaddy’s back porch listening to the chickens fuss and the cow’s lowing. I can smell the fresh cut grass and see the red clay patches here and there in the drive that swung around the house. I’d give anything to draw a bucket of that cool clear water out of the old well. I look forward to seeing my grandparents again when the Lord calls me home. I now appreciate who they were and would love to sit down with them and just talk a while at that little kitchen table. Maybe Grandma would make us a batch of apple fritters to give our hands something to hold while we talked. I will call my cousins in from all around and just listen to the funny things they did to get through the "depression" or watch again as Grandaddy dares my poor cousin to take one bite as he himself chews on a home grown hot pepper. I can still hear my cousin squealing as he lunged for the sink faucet and Grandaddy smiling, "What's the matter with you?" Yes David, I still enjoy laughing at that precious memory still so real for all of us.

God bless us all. Kenton

Baseball baseball baseball

         It really stinks to get older. That is how I feel about it.....STINKS. After being at the ballfield all evening watching my nine year old play ball, I realize that my hips hurt from sitting in an ill designed walmart chair. You know the kind, when you sit down the sides of the seat fold up against your booty and squeeze the blood out of your hips while the front of the seat feels like it has cut into the bottom of my legs to the point that I may require a physician.
       So... our team lost the game and my nine year old is blubbering ... sobbing about the call at first base on his last hit..... "His foot was NOT on the bag when he caught the ball!" More blubbering and sobbing... Yadda yadda yaddda. "Man up, Bigboy" I said, as I limped to my truck because the circulation in my legs wasn't circulating. I'm telling him to "man up" while I'm thinking about a cushy $100 folding chair that I saw a while back at a sports store... at the time I thought,"That's an old man chair". Now I am thinking I want to be more comfortable as I WATCH him play hard. What's next....Preparation H, Dentures, blood pressure meds, some whippersnapper yelling at me to watch where I am going?
        I guess things could be worse... some new ballpark friends from Louisville told my wife they found a dead body six miles from their house... black woman that had beaten to death with a brick. Now that is bad day. I've never been rich, but you must be mighty poor when your only choice of weapon is a brick. That has to be a lot of work..... horrible to think about. How do you pray for someone who would bludgeon someone to death with a brick? We have to love everybody... I just wish it was easier to like most of them. I gotta quit this whining... maybe I need some testosterone... what am i thinking? Of course I need some ..... I'm blogging for heaven's sake!!

Say your prayers... love Jesus and bless your enemies so they won't be enemies anymore