A Promise Fulfilled

My only sister and sibling remaining out of a family of six children born to Walter and Victoria Elliott, Avanelle Elliott Newman, died on July 14, 2011 at the age of 82. She would have been 83 had she lived until November 12. Avanelle was born in Dekalb County near Elliott’s Crossroad which is located about 3 miles south of the small town of Henagar, Alabama in the year of 1928. In 1933 my parents and three children moved to Trion, Georgia for work in the Riegel Glove Mill and Cotton Mill.

Before Avanelle died, she learned that her term insurance had expired so there were not sufficient funds for the burial expenses. Individual Christians of the Buckingham Road church of Christ in Garland, Texas where she was a member and some relatives gave the money needed to have her body cremated. Her daughter and only child, her three grandchildren, along with the congregation, had a memorial service for “Ninny” on Sunday, July 24. I shall always remember the compassion and love manifested toward my beloved sister by the members of the Buckingham Road congregation. After several weeks had past, I make arrangements for her remains to be sent to the Kirby Funeral Home in Henagar. On Thursday, October 6, Virginia and I drove up to Henagar and took possession of my sister’s remains. A cousin of mine, Wendell Elliott, of Rainsville, Alabama and I prepared a grave site where my sister’s remains would be buried. There was a space between the graves of our parents and our younger brother Frank who was killed in an accident at the age of 35 where my sister’s remains would eventually rest. Avanelle had always expressed a desire to be buried in the Unity Cemetery next to our parents and I promised her if it was possible, I would fulfill her wish.

Over the 50+ years that I have been preaching and speaking at funerals and at graveside services, I had never experienced such as this one. On a beautiful autumn Friday morning, October 9, 2011, I spoke in the presence of a few relatives and friends who had gathered in the quietness of the rural surroundings near an old church building. I spoke of Avanelle’s struggle to survive after she became a single mother with a teenage daughter to rear. The daughter earned a degree  from a university and became a nurse. When our mother died in 1988, Avanelle moved to the greater Dallas, Texas area where Vickie and her family lived. She existed only on a meager income but she survived. She suffered with emphysema for years and finally cancer took her life.

When most of the relatives and friends had left, I went to the car and removed the container that held my sister’s remains. I still think of the weight of the ashes in my hands that once was my dear sister. I knelt down beside the opening in the earth and with love in my heart and as gentle as I could, I placed the container in the small grave. I then took a shovel and began filling the opening with the dirt previously removed by my cousin and me. Needlessly to say, I had difficulty in controlling my emotions. We all made sure that the sod of grass that I had removed was situated just right and Virginia placed a vase of flowers that she had bought where the marker I ordered for my sister’s grave would eventually rest. When we drove away, my emotions were mixed but I felt like I had done what my sister desired and that was to be buried next to mother and dad. I had fulfilled my promise.

My Memories of Martin

My brother’s name was actually Walter Martin Elliott, named after our father, Walter Matthew. He was the first child of six born to Walter and Victoria Elliott. Martin was born on March 31, 1926 in the Elliott’s Crossroads community in Dekalb County, Alabama. He, along with two siblings, moved with my parents to Trion, Georgia, where they found work in the textile mills in early 1933. Later in 1941 the family made their home in Summerville, Georgia, where Martin grew into his teenage years. He was well known and liked by those who knew him. He worked for Hinton Logan, a Christian brother, in a local grocery store in downtown Summerville. I remember him having an automobile with a ‘rumble seat’ in the back of the car. Martin was over six feet tall and very handsome.

 He fell in love with a beautiful young lady from Fort Payne, Alabama, Catherine King. They eloped when he was eighteen years old and were married in the small community of Rising Fawn near Trenton, Georgia. Martin was soon drafted into the military and began serving in the U.S. Army in 1944. It was during the time when men were greatly needed in the war with Germany and Japan. The young men did not receive extensive training for combat duty. I remember that he took his basic training at Fort Blanding near Jacksonville, Florida for about three months and was soon shipped off to Europe.

Martin was a Private First Class and served in the 178 INFANTRY 95 DIVISION and was with a machine gun squadron. It was during the winter of 1944-45 that the American military forces were making advances into the northwestern part of Germany. During an intense battle near the town of Hamn, Germany, Martin was wounded and died soon afterward. He was at the age when young men and women were enrolling in colleges and/or going into the work force but our country needed our youth in combat to fight against the forces of the Nazi Regime. Martin celebrated his 19th birthday anniversary on March 31, 1945 and was killed six days later on April 5, approximately two months before Germany surrendered to the Allied Forces.

My father was at work at the cotton mill which was located in the southern part of the town of Summerville when he received the telegram that contained the dreaded news that his oldest son had been killed in action. He then walked the long distance to the house where we lived on West Washington Street to bring that news to us. That part of the road was unpaved and our rental house was located on the top of a ridge. I was standing on the front porch when I saw him coming up the hill and he shouted out the words I have never forgotten, “Martin has been killed.” I was almost 10 years old at the time and I remember well the over-whelming sorrow and grief my family experienced upon learning that terrible news, especially my parents. We had not received any ‘air mail’ letters from Martin for sometime and my parents were greatly concerned about his safety. Following the news of his death we received packages back that my mother had sent to him, some containing food items and I well remember that mother would not permit my younger brother and me to eat the sweets.

Martin’s wife had the choice of having his body brought back to the states for burial or to be buried in a military cemetery in Europe and she chose the latter and this decision nearly killed my parents, especially mother who suffered emotionally for several years as they never had any ‘closure’ relating to the death of their precious first born child. I remember how I believed that he had not been killed but perhaps captured or wounded and that one day he would come home.

Martin was buried in the Netherlands American Cemetery in the village of Margraten, 6 miles east of Maastricht. Though I have never seen his grave site, I have a niece who visited his grave; and a friend who attended worship at the Prattville church several years ago who was a native of Holland and while visiting relatives in Rotterdam she made a special trip to the cemetery where Martin is buried. She brought me the flag that was on his grave and here is a picture that she gave me.

I found a letter that was written to my parents from a fellow soldier and friend of my brother Martin but over time the name of that individual had been torn from the bottom of the page and so the writer’s identity remains unknown.

Following the death of our mother in 1988, the Purple Heart awarded to Martin was left in my possession. It is a constant reminder of the supreme sacrifices that were made during WWII, thousands of whom were mere teenagers. Though he has been dead since 1945, I have endeavored to keep the memory of my dear brother Martin and the sacrifice he made as a youth to help keep the world free from the oppression of the Nazi Regime in the hearts of our children.

Celebrating Our 55th Wedding Anniversary

My, it was a hot summer evening (without AC) on Friday, August 19, 1955 in the church building in Wildwood, Florida when Virginia and I made our vows to “love and cherish one another” and to live together “until death us do part”. ‘They say’ that a group of singers sang some beautiful songs but I don’t think I heard them. I barely remember brother Orvel Boyd saying something about marriage and asking us to repeat the vows that he read. But he must have really ‘tied the knot’ because by God’s grace and Providence we are still living together as husband and wife. And that says a great deal for Virginia. Bless her heart. We were both twenty years old and we had completed our sophomore year at Alabama Christian College and now I was marrying her without any financial security. I was as poor ‘as Job’s turkey’ (and I understand that is really poor). I even had to borrow a car from a friend to make the trip to Wildwood because the old 1948 Plymouth was not mechanically able to make such a long trip from Montgomery. It had to be love for such a lovely lady like Virginia to marry a poor boy like me because it could not have been for money since I had very little and without a promise of additional funds. But the Lord God has blessed us and provided for us over the past fifty-five years. He has given us three sons and a daughter, along with nine grandchildren. And we are still working regularly with a congregation of Jesus Christ. Perhaps our example will be a source of encouragement to young couples and the unmarried men and women who plan to marry and that is, you can have a successful marriage in this modern age when marital infidelity and divorce are rampant by being guided by the true manual for marriage and that is God’s Word.

My lovely bride~

Happiness is loving and feeling loved.

Our Wedding Party

I chased her for over a year,

before she caught me.

We were given a wonderful reception

and a beautiful cake.

Our first home ~

The 1947 trailer was only 28 feet long and 8 feet wide. You talk about close communion! It was so small that I had to go outside to change my mind. One night it was raining and the roof was leaking right over my bed and a rain drop hit me on my knee. I started to write a song with the title: “Rain Drops Falling on My Bed” but I never did. I probably would have made plenty of money if I had written it that night. The ‘front door’ could not be locked which concerned my new bride. The water to the kitchen came through a water hose from the adjacent house and we had to use the bathroom in the Home EC building which was next to our ‘new home’. But God has been good to us and He has blessed us abundantly. We are now rich materially and spiritually. We praise Him and thank Him every day!!

Re-Living the Past

On Saturday, October 18, 2008, my wife and I attended the annual picnic of my 1953 high school senior class, which was held at the foot of beautiful Taylor Ridge just east of Summerville which is located in the northwest corner of the state of Georgia . In 2003 we had our 50th class reunion and decided at that time that we would not wait until another 50 years before we got together. Since 2003 we have met five times for a picnic in the month of October each year to visit and talk of the past and of what is happening in our lives presently. It was a most enjoyable occasion.

It is remarkable how my classmates have aged over the years. I did feel uncomfortable with these old people but I treated them with dignity and respect. If they needed my help in getting around I tried to accommodate them. Many of them have gray hair or no hair; they have added weight to their bodies and wrinkles to their faces inasmuch that they hardly recognized me (Smile). Seriously we often spoke of the years together at Summerville High School and of the precious memories that were made when we were young and life was not so complicated. I reminisced with Bobby G. when we worked together at the Summerville News and fed the folding machine most of the nights on Wednesdays. I refreshed the memory of Elliott C. about the time we went up the side of a ridge in his father’s army jeep and the incline being so steep that I sat on the hood of the jeep so it would not flip over. I believe that it is unusual for a senior high school class to still be meeting annually after so many years have passed.

We have lost several members over the years but the ones remaining continue to enjoy one another’s company. There is nothing like having old friends and enjoying one another’s company even if it is but once a year. We made plans to meet again in 2009 at the same place between the two lakes at the foot of beautiful Taylor Ridge , the Lord willing (James 4:15).

After spending Saturday night with a loved one on Sand Mountain in the community of Henagar, Alabama and worshiping with the Ider church on Sunday morning we drove over to the city of Arab where I was scheduled to speak in their ‘Super Sundays’ series that evening. Ken Tyler has been preaching for this good congregation for thirty years. That says a great deal about the character of him, his family and the brothers and sisters who make up the local church. This was my first visit to Arab and the congregation.

Prior to the worship hour, a gentleman and his wife walked up to me in the foyer and he looked me in the eyes and asked, “Do you remember where you were in September of 1964?” My mind really went into high gear and I was trying to figure out what he had in mind and so I answered, “Maybe performing a ceremony?” I was thinking of a wedding because I cannot recall all the names and faces of those couples that I have married the past 50+ years. He replied, “Well, sort of” and then he said, “You were in my home 44 years ago in Albany , Georgia .” It was then I remembered working in a campaign in that city when Harvey Starling was preaching nightly under his big tent. My family and I were living in Elba , Alabama at that time. Charlie Boddy was preaching for the College Avenue congregation in Enterprise and he and I were personal workers during the city-wide campaign in Albany . We had home Bible studies with various ones during that week and we taught and baptized three persons. One was a gentleman whose wife was a member of the church. Standing right in front of me was that individual. He was stationed in the Air Force and he and his family were living in Albany. This brother also informed me that he had been preaching since 1971. His name is James Mansil Norris.

I was moved emotionally when he related how Charlie and I had taught him the gospel and how he had been immersed into Jesus Christ for the remission of his sins. This is what I had written in my record book of September 21-26, 1964: “This week, Monday to Saturday, brother Charlie Boddy of Enterprise and I worked as personal workers in the “Savior’s Way Campaign” conducted in Albany , Georgia . We taught three persons enough to lead them to Christ. They were: Mr. James M. Norris (Tues. night); Mrs. Shipman (Thurs. afternoon); and Mrs. Susan Moore (Thursday night). This was a wonderful experience to work in such a great and wonderful effort.” Brother Norris now preaches for the Blessing congregation on Sand Mountain . I had to relate this story to the congregation before I began my lesson that night. It humbles me that I had a part in leading this person to Jesus and it is to God that I give the glory for He is the one who gives the increase (I Corinthians 3:5-8).

We spent Sunday night with Ray and Jo Ann Humphries, a couple we have known since our days at Alabama Christian College on Ann Street in Montgomery during the mid 1950s. We also followed them where Ray had preached in the cities of Ozark and Opp , Alabama . They live in the beautiful country near Joppa. We enjoyed our visit with them so much. We talked about the old days at ACC when life was tough, economically speaking and the people who had influenced our lives for good. We spoke of the various members of the congregations where we both had served as preachers. It was a good visit and they were such great hosts. Ray and Jo Ann have influenced many souls for Jesus Christ during their life time. Such friends have enriched our lives.

One of life’s greatest blessings is that of Christian friendship. When the apostle Paul wrote in Philippians 4:13 that he forgot “those things which are behind” he did not mean that there was a complete failure to remember all things because he recalled that prior to his conversion he fought against the church of our Lord (I Timothy 1:13) but such memories did not prevent him from looking ahead in his Christian journey and work. Often our memories of years past help us to have stability and cause us to appreciate from whence we have come. Glancing back over the years can actually encourage us to look ahead of the challenges that will confront us. With the exception of one phrase the following poem expresses some of my innermost thoughts.

REMINISCING
Won’t you reminisce with me
From days so long ago?
Please come and look back with me
At the things we used to know.
Won’t you reminisce with me
The things we used to do?
The things we said, the ways we danced,
Memories dear and true.
Won’t you reminisce with me?
It’s sure to wet your eye.
Remembering all the happy times
That now have said goodbye.
And if you’ll stroll down Memory lane
Then I can guarantee,
You’ll have a blast back in the past…
If you reminisce with me.
~ Alyssa Marie Bentham ~

A Great Joy That Fills the Heart of a Gospel Preacher/Teacher

I arose early on Sunday morning because where I was scheduled to preach was over a hundred miles from my home. As I drove down the interstate highway I could not help but observe the beauty of the Lord’s Day morning with the sky so blue and the trees so full of green foliage. From time to time as I drove down a county road I saw beautiful flowers and some promising vegetable gardens that soon would be laden down with fresh produce. The drive was most enjoyable and even relaxing at that time of the day.

I eventually arrived at my destiny and went inside the church building in this south Alabama city of Brewton . I soon met old friends and was introduced to new friends who are members of this congregation. After the evening assembly a young father introduced himself to me. I asked his last name again because I recognized not only the name but the city where he informed me he had lived previously. I asked him his parent’s names and immediately I knew who he was when he told me that their names were James and Linda Barron. I looked at him and told him that I not only knew his parents but his grandparents.

Standing by him was his beautiful daughter which I supposed to be about twelve years old. I moved along side her and gave her a hug and said, “Let me tell you about your ancestors.” In actuality I was looking in the face of the fourth generation of the Jesse and Magdalene (Mary) Miller family. I was moved with deep emotions when I remembered the story of this family that obeyed the gospel many years ago. But before I progress in this particular story I must relate to you what transpired the following Wednesday evening when I spoke at the College Avenue congregation in the city of Enterprise, Alabama .

One of the first people I saw after entering the building was Brenda Miller Penn, the aunt of this small girl’s father I met on the previous Sunday night. You see, Brenda is a daughter of Jesse and Mary Miller and the twin sister of Linda Barron who is the grandmother of the small girl. Brenda then introduced me to her daughter and husband and their small children. As you can perceive, there is a real story about to unfold in this article.

It was in the winter of 1965-66 that the good church in Elba, Alabama where I was then preaching, heard about the Jesse Miller family that was in dire need of help because the husband/father had been seriously injured while working and was unable to provide for his family. Of course the Christian brothers and sisters supplied the needs of the family and because of the kindness and love manifested toward this family a door of opportunity was opened to study the Bible with them in their home. My good friends and brethren Roy Fuller and Harris Winston (now diseased) studied with the family and I also encouraged them as they were contemplating giving their lives to the Lord. It was on Sunday morning, January 30, 1966 that I had the wonderful privilege of immersing Mary, the mother, along with the children, Jerry, Brenda and Linda into Jesus Christ for the remission of their sins. Because of the unusually cold weather (24 degrees) for south Alabama and the serious injuries Jesse had sustained, we waited until Tuesday, February 2 to baptize him.

The members of the Elba church soon fell in love with this wonderful family. Jesse continued to mature in Christ as well as the rest of the family and later he became a deacon in the local congregation. Several years later Jesse died and Mary and the family moved some thirty miles north of Elba to the city of Troy . There they became active in the work of the Lord’s church. As the years passed by the children all married and had families of their own. Some members of the Miller family moved to other locations but one thing that stands out in my mind is the faithfulness to the Lord of the children and grandchildren and yes, even the great-grand children of Jesse and Mary Miller.

As Christians we should never underestimate the good that can be accomplished when we assist individuals and families who are in need with the necessities of life. The apostle Paul wrote in Galatians 6:9, 10: “And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all, especially to those who are of the household of faith.” In this life we may never fully realize the full measure of good done by the kind and benevolent acts that are shown toward others. And remember this, “For God is not unjust to forget your work and labor of love…” (Hebrews 6:10).

The decision by the Jesse Miller family to give their lives to Lord over forty-two years ago determined the direction that the future generations would travel; that is, obeying the gospel of Jesus Christ and living for Him. God has allowed me to live long enough to bear witness to this truth as I continue to meet members of this good family, even to the fourth generation. I could not help but think of what the apostle John had to say about a similar situation as found first of all in 2 John 1 when he was writing to “the elect lady and her children…” He expressed himself as recorded in verse 4: “I rejoiced greatly that I have found some of your children walking in truth, as we received commandment from the Father.” Then in 3 John he wrote to his dear friend Gaius. He expressed himself in this manner: “For I rejoiced greatly when brethren came and testified of the truth that is in you, just as you walk in the truth. I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth” (Verses 3 & 4).

As a gospel preacher of more than fifty years I can truly say that one of life’s greatest joys is to know of the faithfulness of people who I have encouraged to give their lives to the Lord. I am mindful of the deep feelings that Paul expressed for the church in Thessalonica as found in I Thessalonians 3:7-9: “(T)herefore, brethren, in all our affliction and distress we were comforted concerning you by your faith. For now we live, if you stand fast in the Lord. For what thanks can we render to God for you, for all the joy with which we rejoice for your sake before our God…” Our young preachers and teachers should learn that while we do the planting and watering it is God who gives the increase (I Corinthians 3:6). The harvest of souls may be soon or later but it will come. Learn to be patient. I close with these thoughts from Psalms 126:5, 6

“Those who sow in tears, shall reap in joy,
He who continually goes forth weeping,
Bearing seed for sowing,
Shall doubtless come again with rejoicing,
Bringing his sheaves with him.”