I love Thanksgiving. And I love when we pack our house here in Roanoke, Virginia so full of people that you can’t think straight. This year we had about 26 adults and 10 kids. Suddenly, I’m not the kid anymore. But I did still get to do some kids things. Like run through the woods at dusk crunching leaves like a bad guy and scaring the kids. Fun stuff.
This whole weekend is pretty special actually. We celebrated 2 birthdays. The first birthday- Ella Hambrick. She turned 1. Ella’s parents are good friends of mine from childhood- Jeremiah and Jennifer Hambrick. Jeremiah lived with my family during college while his parents were missionaries in Venezuela. He’s an awesome friend.
The second birthday- Mayo Adams. He turned 90. Mayo is my great uncle on my dad’s side. He’s the model American hero. He flew a B-17 in WWII, was shot up many times, and was wounded in his 8th mission over Bremen. He loves Jesus with all of his heart. He and his wife, May, were never able to have kids, so me and my siblings are kind of like their adopted grandkids. I love them both dearly. I hope I’m still as mentally sharp, physically in shape, and spiritually shining when I’m his age.
The icing on the cake for this weekend definitely happens on Sunday night. I’m getting ordained into the gospel ministry. I’m stoked. It will take place at me and Tasha’s home church in Henderson, NC, New Sandy Creek Baptist Church. And the best part about it is the fact that my dad, who is my life hero and mentor, will be performing the service. And a bunch of my good friends in ministry who have had a great impact on my life will be there as well to witness and attest to God’s call on my life.
I’m not a crier. I will confess that I cracked a few tears during “United Flight 93,” and “The Notebook.” And I definitely cried at my wedding (tears of joy, to be sure). But overall I don’t cry. However, I think I will on Sunday night. As I think about how good God has been to me. To have the kind of legacy that I have modeled from my father as he has faithfully lived out his faith in the pulpit and in the home, is humbling. To have the legacy of my mother who faithfully raised her children to love Jesus and taught us silly songs to remember God’s truth, is overwhelming. So, yea, if I think about all those things, I’ll cry. Because I’m grateful to the Lord for this heritage.
This is a weekend where we celebrate the Life-giver. Whether you’re 1, 90, or somewhere in between like me, God has a beautiful canvass painting of your life in which He’s waiting to add the first brush strokes or the final strokes. Either way, He’s a perfect artist whose work is beautiful.
“Lord, (my) days are determined;
you have decreed the number of (my) months
and have set limits (I) cannot exceed.”