Cybercolumn by John Duncan: A sea of change

Posted: 10/12/07

CYBER COLUMN:
A sea of change

By John Duncan

I’m sitting here under the old oak tree, musing about change. To me, three things in life appear constant—death, taxes, and change. I look around Granbury and see change over the last 20 years, from Wal-Mart to Home Depot, to new schools and restaurants, to the roads once narrow now wide, to new people who bless my life.

I look at Lakeside Baptist Church and see a sea of change. The people have changed through the years, and so have I. We used to have pot-luck dinners, and now we have to have stuff catered. Change arrives in many venues, but as good Baptists, we still eat the same thing—friend chicken and biscuits, of course. Some things change, but some do not. I love change. It challenges all of us!

Lindy at Your Image here in Granbury has cut my hair for a long time. Just the other day, she was cutting my hair and talking to her shopmates. The discussion turned to change. More specifically, the television show Trick My Truck. All these years I thought I was in touch with the world—terror, Al Qaeda, Dallas Cowboys’ last-minute heroics, presidential speeches, Larry King on CNN, pot pie salmonella outbreaks, Britney Spears losing her kids, the Weather Channel, college game day, and O.J. Simpson on the run again. All this time, I figured I was in touch with the world when, in fact, I have never watched CSI or Trick My Truck. Lindy and her co-workers explained Trick My Truck as a show where a gang takes an 18-wheel truck and totally refurbishes it. Now I am in touch with the world and realizing that change is about to touch me.

For more than 20 years it has been my privilege to pastor at Lakeside Baptist Church in Granbury. I arrived June 7, 1987. I survived my first two years by the grace of God and thrived in the glory of God’s grace and the grace of his people for the next 18. C.S. Lewis once said, “But even the best Christian that ever lived is not acting on his own steam—he is only nourishing or protecting a life he could never have acquired by his own efforts.” When I think of Lakeside, I think of what God has done through his people together, his steam carrying us up the river of life in the joy of service with the cargo of ministry. I think of what God has done—the great things he has done that we could never have acquired by our own efforts.

My youngest daughter, 8 years old at the time, once asked me, “Daddy, are you the boss of the church?” “No, honey, I have two hundred bosses,” I replied as I laughed, but then added, on a more serious note in her language, “No, God is the boss of the church.” And he is. The church is the Lord’s, and he gets his work done in and through and, sometimes, in spite of us. Anyway, after 20 years, I am soon to change—churches, locations and walk through the sea of change begging for the steam of God as I cruise a new river of ministry. I will soon become pastor of First Baptist Church in Georgetown and the wonderful people there.

Lakeside has wonderful people, too, and I will miss them. I think of people with vision. I think of Riley Robeson, who told his wife before I arrived, “He’s a good preacher, but he looks like Alfalfa!” I have not watched Trick My Truck and neither had I watched The Little Rascals, but the saints educated me on what that meant. Years later, I have laughed a thousand laughs over that comment. Yet no one ministered and had a vision for Christ, his church, and ministry like the legendary Riley Ro, as I will call him.

I think of Dorothy Hand, long since gone to glory, a woman of great inspiration who always kept her Bible and The Reader’s Digest handy. She was my neighbor when we both lived in tiny apartments. The prize my family shared with the elderly Hand, as we called her, was the laughter, the stories and the joy of our common bond—Christ. She was a church member, and when the church was small, she held my hand, looked to the heavens, and declared: “God has great things in store! That’s gonna be a big church one day.” Her English was not so great, but her heart glittered with gold! Everybody needs someone to believe in you, and Dorothy believed in me and God’s call on my life, and the prize we shared was the prize of the mark of the high calling of God in Christ.

I think of John and Ruth Stewart. If they were pie, he was the crust, and she was the whipped-cream topping. He was opinionated and crusty and loud and boisterous, and she was the kind, gentle, sweet organ player in the church. They both grew up during the Depression. It hardened John yet made Ruth a sweet saint of gratitude for all that she had. John, after I had been at Lakeside for one year, said over lunch: “Bring me your resume. You don’t deserve this! We’re gonnna find you another church!” I stayed another 19 years, and God blessed us both! Ruth once played the organ on a Sunday night, and I know I have told you this before, but she played Set My Soul Afire, Lord when the organ caught on fire. God showed up that night like Isaiah’s tongue touched by fire, and when I think of John and Ruth, I think of the love they had for me and God’s longing for his best in me, and I think of the fire of God that glowed in their souls and that, in life and ministry, it takes all kinds. And God uses all kinds of people to complete and accomplish his glorious work.

I think of Trudy Woods, who in her 90s went home to be with Jesus, but right before she breathed her last breath, spoke words, her eyes bugging out her head with a sweet smile on her face: “I’m ready. I’ll save a place for you.” I find myself thinking this is what the Christian life is all about—Christ saving us a place and believing in him and working to make room for his people in churches, in heaven, most of all, and, not the least, in our hearts. Did not the Apostle Paul say of the Philippians, “I have you in my heart”? Lakeside, I say with Paul, “I have you in my heart.” I love you and always will.

I have too much to say in terms of gratitude and thankfulness for the great years on the journey of my life. Anyway, Trick My Truck caused me to think of all the change I will soon embrace. Actually, I am excited, a little nervous, but, all told, ready for the adventure. As change arrives, I am going to take the advice of a man who lived to be 100. He was asked, “What is the secret to your long life?” Today in this sophisticated 21st century, you would expect an answers like exercise, an apple a day, laughter, friends, broccoli at every meal, vitamins, working in my garden, or a job that I loved. The man’s simple response, “Keep breathing!”

So, here I am under this old oak tree, writing on the last days of my privilege of service to Christ as pastor of Lakeside Baptist Church. I am going to breathe in the day, the sunshine, the joy of Christ, the memory of yesterday and the hope of tomorrow. I am going to remember and give thanks and keep plugging along and breathing in the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ in the glory of his future work in Granbury and Georgetown and, I guess, in my own refurbished, renewed and remodeled life.

Change is in the air, but Jesus never changes. So, I am figuring that God’s grace will carry me and the vision instilled by the saints of Lakeside Baptist. And I am figuring, that, if nothing else, I will at least keep breathing to see what God has in store for the next 100 years!

John Duncan is pastor of First Baptist Church in Georgetown, Texas.