Archive for the ‘Death’ category
June 28, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. June 28, 2015
Baptism in the Baptist church is a celebration that drenches the soul! It isn’t an invitation to a funeral, but rather an expression of the deep flowing grace of God, the life-giving story of the gospel visualized in a person standing in the midst of the waters.
This morning was an awesome experience in the sharing of people’s faith journeys. Four adults…some new to the faith, and others who have journeyed with Jesus for a while, entered our “church tub” and testified of their faith.
The event was punctuated by the fact that other people were involved in the baptisms. In our congregation when someone gets baptized I encourage them to ask someone who has been instrumental in their faith journey to be the one who dips them into the waters.
The first woman to be baptized was helped into the water tank by her husband. She had been serving faithfully for the past several years in our congregation. We just assumed that she had been baptized…but sometimes assumptions get the best of us! As her spouse asked her if she knew Jesus in a personal way I could hear a slight emotional crack in his voice. He looked into her eyes with love and compassion, and she back at him with the same loving gratitude. As he lowered her into the waters I was there to give physical assistance…since both of them are into their sixth decade. Wait a minute! So am I! After she came back up to her feet, husband and wife embraced…and more than a few tears were being shed by those watching!
The second woman was baptized by her in-laws…mother in-law and sister-in-law. They had walked with her through moments of loss and births of children. They didn’t turn their backs on her when she expressed doubts about faith. In the background, although not in the baptistry, was her grandmother-in-law who had been praying for this day to happen for the past several years. What a story of walking with someone in doubts and discoveries!
Finally a husband and wife came to be baptized. They asked me to be the one who took them back into that expression of the death and resurrection of Christ. The husband and I play basketball together. We trash talk each other on the court…in Christian love! But in this moment I fought back the tears of joy of seeing two lives wanting to serve the Lord. Parents of three young children they have been through some difficult times, times of searching and asking tough questions, and times of trying to figure out this thing called “walking in faith.”
Four faith journeys coming together for a few moments of mass celebration. I don’t know if anyone will remember a word I said that morning in the sermon, but there were four messages of transformation visualized that no one will forget!
Categories: children, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Jesus, love, marriage, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: Baptism, baptizing, Celebration, demonstration of faith, immersion, profession of faith, water baptism
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June 25, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. June 25, 2015
Somewhere in eastern Kansas (Lawrence) a young lady with very short blonde hair has her feet up in the air right now. Allison Perrine is bicycling, along with about 30 other college-aged young adults, four thousand miles across the country, from Baltimore to San Francisco, in seventy days.
I’ve been following her journey as it has progressed. Carol and I supported it financially a few months ago when she was in the midst of trying to raise $4,000. Today I noticed she was $83 away from having raised $22,000. The funds aren’t being used for late-night runs to Sonic or daily living expenses. Allison is raising funds for young adult cancer awareness, patient navigation, and support groups.
Today would have been the 48th birthday for Allison’s mom, Becky. Becky passed away from cancer in October of 2011. Becky was my secretary for the last few years of my pastorate at First Baptist Church in Mason, Michigan. Allison was a quiet little blonde-haired girl who always looked terrified by me. Perhaps since my last name was Wolfe she thought I was big and bad. These days Allison is not quiet any more, but she is also anything but timid. Her mom has been the inspiration behind her journey, and she has persevered through a lot of obstacles.
In eight days (July 3) Carol and I get to meet up with Allison in Fort Morgan, Colorado. We are excited to see the girl who has grown up into being an exceptional young lady. I’m sure I’ll have tears banging on my eyes to get out as I see the image of her mom shining through her.
Before she started on this journey, Allison got her beautiful long hair shaved off to help in another way. I’ve noticed from the pictures on her daily blog post that it’s grown back to being just a little longer than stubble.
Many of us are traumatized by the tragedies that jolt our lives. We give up, looked stunned, and choose isolation. Allison chose to keep on keeping on. She chose to persevere. On her mom’s birthday she wrote the address of her mom’s favorite bible verse on her leg…Joshua 1:9, which says “Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
If you would like to follow Allison’s blog you can go to:
Www.4kforcancer.org/profiles/Allison-Perrine/
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Allison Perrine, bicycling, bicycling across the country, cancer, cancer awareness, courage, honoring parents, Joshua 1:9, perseverance
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June 20, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. June 19, 2015
The sadness of nine people murdered in the midst of a church bible study gathering! Different people put different spins on the why and how. I guess these few words may very well be another opinion.
For me it comes down to a lot of different things, and yet just one standout observance. People who are whacked often are determined to do whatever it is that has invaded their hearts and minds. If it is to go into an African-American church and start shooting because of white supremacist beliefs…and he can’t see past the hatred, there isn’t much that can be done to unconvinced him.
Whacked people are imbalanced and irrational. They come in all age groups and nationalities. How they arrived at such a state of weirdo-ism is on unexplainable. Dylann Roof didn’t just wake up in the morning and decide to kill nine people. He sent time allowing the seeds of racism to grow in his mind and soul. He was influenced by people who could use rhetoric to distort reality while motivating. He let an illusion what a hero is to infect his judgment. At some point he had made up his mind, but that point was after he had crossed the line of common sense and “whacked status.”
Unfortunately, we are getting used to the whacked doing news-numbing things. As the number of different ideologies increases the number of whacked jobs will increase as well. People become passionate for the right reasons…but also for the wrong reasons! A person who is passionate for the wrong reasons is often terrifying to the rest of us.
The tragedy is that there will be another person who is whacked sometime in the next few days, weeks, or months who determines to do something unthinkable…and despite our best efforts won’t be able to prevent it.
I’ve been on a college campus today and I’ve noticed the concrete posts in front of various buildings meant to hinder any vehicle that tries to get close. The college security is trying to the best of its abilities to deter a tragedy from happening, but sometimes determined whacked people keep looking until they find a way.
God help us!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Freedom, love, Nation, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Charleston, Determination, Dylann Roof, hate crimes, hatred, imbalanced, influence, irrational, murder, racism, terrorism, weirdo, whacked, whacko's
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June 10, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. June 10, 2015
I wrote recently about a young lady who I had coached basketball for three years in high school passing away at the age of twenty.
Ever since hearing of her death I’ve been haunted…that’s the best word I can come up with…haunted by the absence of a word!
“A word” is not necessarily meant to be a literal term. It could be a few words… or one comment… or one encouragement…or one probing question. Just one thing that might have helped her define her life direction, her purpose, the potential of her vibrant spirit.
There have been other people who I’ve said things to, though unaware of it at the time, who have come back to me later and told me the effect of my words. I’ve written things that touched people in profound ways that I had no clue about.
And so it haunts me to know that this young woman could not latch on to something that I taught her, or I could not find that one word to guide her, years later, through rough waters.
Knowing the ache in my heart, I can’t imagine the aching fatigue in the lives of her family members.
One word! I think back over my life and the “one words” that have helped me get on track. My Uncle George taking me into the bedroom of my grandparents’ house in Oil Springs, Kentucky and giving me his “one word” after I came home from my first quarter of college with a GPA of “.533!” That’s right…the decimal point is to the left of the first number greater than “0”!
I remember Jerry Heslinga, our associate pastor at First Baptist Church in Ironton, Ohio giving me his “one word” that helped me stay the course in seminary.
I’m thankful for the “one word” that Gene Gilbert has for me on Sunday mornings when he lays a hand on my shoulder before worship and says a prayer for me.
And the “one word” that Rev. Chuck Landon imparted to me as I was floundering in the pool of pastoring. His “one word” was like a lifeline that kept me afloat.
I think of the “one word” of my coaching mentor, Don Fackler. Every time I hear, or say, “discombobulated” …which, believe it or not, is quite often, I see his bespectacled face.
And I think of my closest friend in ministry, Tom Bayes, and the defining conversations we would have. Sometimes I would be in the depths of despair and Tom would lift my spirits, and at other times when I had whacky thoughts he would ask a question to help me right the ship.
“One word” people have been instrumental in my life.
That knowledge makes it that much more difficult for me to know that I didn’t have that “one word” for this lady. In times like these I’m not sure there is a silver lining. Perhaps it will cause me to be more mindful of what I say and don’t say. Perhaps I’ll treasure the relationships I have even more.
The ache in my spirit has not lessened since last Friday. Perhaps that’s a good thing!
Categories: children, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: aching, coping, dying, Encouragement, encouraging words, grief, grieving, guiding, heartache, help, helping, loss, pain, painful
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June 8, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. June 8, 2015
I’ve recently written quite a bit about loss…losing people close to me who have gone on to glory. Believe me! I don’t want to write about the process of grieving for the rest of my life, but I had two experiences yesterday that have profoundly affected me.
It began with “the missing!” A dear man and his wife, 94 and 91 in age, were missing from their usual spots in worship yesterday morning. Rex helps take the offering each Sunday morning and always squeezes my finger when I put my offering envelope in the plate. He looks at me and says “I’m praying for you”, and then he gives me a wink. It’s an important moment of the morning for me…but he wasn’t there.
He’s been battling a form of cancer, running a race against old age…and the age is catching up to him. He is a dear committed man of God and serving husband to his wife, Ann.
I called him Sunday afternoon and asked if I could bring our group of young men by to pray with him and his wife, Ann, that evening.
“Well…that would be great, Pastor Bill! Yes…I think that would be all right!”
So we went, six of us, spent time with them, heard about his “miracle malts” that his granddaughter was bringing to him that seemed to make him feel better, and then we stood with them in a circle and prayed.
Each one of us felt a bit of heartache knowing that this couple were in the midst of daily struggles to just keep going. The weariness of their bodies was now dictating what could be done and what had to be surrendered. Things that we took for granted were now only maybes for the two of them.
But we were also blessed by simply being with them, holding hands with them and praying, listening to their stories told with wit and humor. They were so thankful that we had come, but we were even more thankful that we had been there.
After we prayed and hugged on them for a while we got in our vehicles and headed down the street to the ice cream place, BJ’s Velvet Freeze, and we all ordered malts!
Right before I had gone to be blessed by this pair of ninety somethings I became aware of another kind of heartache. I young lady I had coached for three years in basketball died. Twenty years old, full of potential and primed for life…suddenly gone. I was numbed by the news. On the wall behind me in my study is a team picture from her freshman year where she is standing just behind my right shoulder, in the midst of her teammates, looking happy and almost giggly. That was one of the sweetest, most fun groups of girls I’ve ever coached. They finished 13-5 and beat an undefeated Doherty team in the last game of the regular season…a group of Doherty girls that had not lost since they started playing together in 6th grade.
And this young lady was a vital part of the team, but more than that, she was just a delight to coach that year.
And now her light had faded out!
That same sense of heartache that I experienced as I sat with Rex and Ann I also experienced as I processed the news of the death of this young woman, but this time it was tagged together with helplessness. I wished I could have said something to her to change the course of her ship, to let the wind be in her sails again. I wish I could go back to her freshman year and be blessed once again by the giggling and the solidity of those relationships amongst teammates. I wish I could rewind and know that I could say one thing that I hadn’t said before that would result in June 5, 2015 being different…being a day of celebration and fulfilled promise instead of grief and deep, deep sorrow!
A strange day of lives that have been long, purposeful, and fulfilling…and a life that had barely started…and I can’t stop thinking about it!
Categories: children, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Humor, Jesus, love, marriage, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: age, basketball coach, being blessed, blessed, coaching, coping, grief, grieving, heartache, helpless, loss, malts, ninety year olds, Old age, praying, sudden death
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June 7, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. June 6, 2015
A few weeks ago (April 22), I wrote a blog post about a special lady, Ruth Kennedy, who was celebrating her 96th birthday. That post was entitled “The Saints Who Go Before Us”. Ruth Kennedy passed away yesterday.
One granddaughter posted a few pictures on Facebook of some of Ruth’s final days with family. I got somewhat emotional looking at them as I remembered what a great lady she had been during my growing up years.
My life recently has been crocheted with loss. My Aunt Cynthia passed away about three of weeks ago. She would have been 93 on May 22. “Aunt Cynthy” always made me smile, especially as she handed me a rolled-up five dollar bill and told me not to tell anyone. She had a down-home wit and humor about her that I will always remember. Visits to her house were punctuated by eating! A few years ago she looked at me and said, “Billy Dean, you’re looking (pause)…a little manly!” That was Aunt Cynthia’s way of saying I had put some weight on. I think she offered me a piece of apple pie and ice cream right after that!
This past week my dad has been in the hospital back in Huntington, West Virginia. Being in Colorado is hard during these times. Writing about Dad, Aunt Cynthy, and Ruth Kennedy are a way that I cope with loss and absence.
It’s how I deal with having to say goodbye to some good friends over the years as well. Most are still on this side of glory, but separated from me by distance and schedules.
We lose people in different ways throughout the journey. Hopefully it causes us to value each relationship…each conversation…each piece of pie lovingly cut…each moment shared even more.
Aunt Cynthy and Ruth Kennedy have passed on to their eternal rewards, experiences of a precision choir of hallelujah praises. My Dad, closing in on 87, isn’t far behind. I’ve been blessed by all. May I be a blessing to just as many!
Categories: children, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, love, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Aunt Cynthia, aunts, aunts and uncles, blessed, family, impactful people, Ruth Kennedy, Saints. manly looking, uncles
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June 3, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. June 3, 2015
(I received word this morning that my dad is in the Emergency Room of a hospital about 2,000 miles away from me.)
Dear Pops!
I love calling you that when you answer your phone. You always know it is me calling when I greet you with those words, “What do you say, Pops?”
I wish i could be sitting beside your hospital room bringing a smile to your face with that greeting, but, instead, I’m a couple thousand miles away typing this on my laptop.
It’s hard to not be close enough to touch you…to wait anxiously for an updated text from someone close at hand. I want you to know that I’m praying for you. When I told Diana, my administrative assistant, about you, see took time out to pray for you…and me! Prayer is something I don’t need training for, just a sense of urgency and taking the initiative to approach the throne of grace.
Dad, you have always been special to me, but in recent years as I watched you wait upon Mom and make sure that her needs were being met, you became something different.
Impressive!
You held it together when Mom was coming apart. You fed her when she could not feed herself. You listened to her when she could not communicate. You changed her diaper when she soiled herself.
You were impressive and impressionable!
I don’t believe a father can leave a greater gift for his children than a Christ-like handprint for them to remember. Not necessarily a sermon preached, but rather a sermon lived out. Although your heart has issues, your heart for God and people is healthy. When one of my kids tells me that I’m just like my dad I take it as the highest compliment.
I remember certain things that you did, like fixing liver and onions for dinner that actually tasted good; startling the neighbors each year when warm weather came by putting on a pair of shorts with those white legs of yours that were a little blinding to the eyes; preparing your Sunday School lesson to teach with your materials and Bible covering the kitchen table; and teaching me how to tie a necktie.
Let me confess something to you while I’m thinking about it. I was the one who broke the blade on your pocket knife. You had probably already guessed that, since I tried to scotch tape the broken blade back on. Thirteen year olds think they can cover up anything!
Dad, I’m praying for strength and recovery. I’m praying for more conversations in the coming days even by phone.
Rest…and rest in his arms!
Your Son,
Bill Wolfe
Categories: children, Death, Faith, Grace, Humor, Jesus, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Aging, aging parents, Dad, father, feeling helpless, grandfather, gratitude, helpless, helplessness, hospitalization, impression, Old age, parent, Pops, sickness
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May 11, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. May 11, 2015
Two weeks ago three of us from our church- my wife Carol, a woman named Kathy, and myself- went to check on a lady who hadn’t been at worship that morning…which was out of character. After finding the hidden key that Kathy knew about, we discovered her body in the house. Even though it was a difficult thing to discover, we were glad that we were the ones to discover her passing instead of her daughters.
The next Sunday afternoon we had a gathering in our sanctuary to celebrate her life. Eulogies and letters were read that honored her. The service was a mixture of laughter and tears. Death is a peculiar subject for Christians. Our faith is rooted in a death experience- the death of Jesus on the cross, and then the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. The words “death”, “dead”, and “dying” are used over eight hundred times in the Bible. Death is unavoidable for each one of us, but it’s also unavoidable as you read the story of God’s people and Jesus’ followers.
And yet the hardest part of ministry is dealing with death. It’s as certain as birth, but difficult to rub elbows with. As a pastor I talk quite often about life after death, the promise of eternal life…that comes after death! We firmly believe in that promise, and yet struggle with the death part.
People say I do an exceptional job officiating at funerals, and yet I dread them with a passion. I prepare people for Glory, and yet I struggle with the releasing of the loved one. Almost all of the funerals I conduct I know the departed one deeply. I remember where they would sit each week in worship, their uniqueness, and stories that stay with me. The lady who just passed on to Glory made her own birthday cards for people, and they were always special and unique. I asked for a show of hands at her funeral of all those who had ever received a card from her. the show of hands were more numerous than the dandelions on the church’s front lawn. Those are the moments that are special.
The pastor, however, must lead the people in the journey of grief afterwards. Last week the Senior Bible Study I lead had it’s first gathering since the funeral. The dear departed woman was a part of the group. We studied the Word that morning, as we always do, but we also found comfort in being together in the midst of loss. Even as we sat in our tabled circle that day we journeyed together in our grief.
The pastor leads, but the pastor also struggles…with emotions, emptiness, adjusting to the change. The promise of Glory is a soothing embrace in the numbness of loss.
Dealing with death is the hardest part of ministry, and yet we convey the message of hope that is linked to it. Goodbyes are painful, but the certainty of their arrivals are comforting. My ministry had been blessed by preaching about eternity, and yet my ministry is burdened by the heaviness of death.
What a odd combination!
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Jesus, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: celebration of life, dealing with death, dying, funeral, funerals, grief, grieving, heaven, hope, journey, loss, ministry, mourning, pastoral care, preparation, preparing, Resurrection
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April 22, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. April 22, 2015
We have been blessed in so many ways and by so many people…and so often we don’t immediately recognize it.
Today it hit me…in an unusual way!
Today is the 96th birthday of a woman who I always saw as being a person of compassion, gentleness, and faith. Her name is Ruth Kennedy.
Now…you need to understand something! I haven’t seen Ruth in close to twenty years. I was taken back by the fact that she has a Facebook page…and is now one of my Facebook friends, although in my birthday greeting to you today I couldn’t bring myself to calling her Ruth. She has always been Mrs. Kennedy to me!
Her oldest daughter, Cindy, was a good friend of mine in high school, and several of us hung out quite often at the Kennedy mansion in Ironton, Ohio, between the flood wall and North Second Street. The Wolfe’s and Kennedy’s were a part of the same church, and our youth group as close-knit.
Mrs. Kennedy would welcome us into her home, and then…this is important!…give us space! She would go to another part of the house and let our group of friends laugh and converse together.
She was faithful! She would sit with her husband Jim on the Vernon Street side of the sanctuary each Sunday for worship at First Baptist Church. Ruth was not a hit-and-miss attender. She was consistent and friendly and warm.
And now years later it hits me how blessed I was to have her in my life during those high school and college years.
We talk about the saints that go before us, but sometimes we are blind to the saints that are with us! And then years later…in an unexpected Facebook post you catch sight of how special someone in your past was to you.
Mrs. Kennedy was just one of many saints who affirmed my call to ministry in 1979 when I was ordained. I can see some of the other faces…Pastor Gale Baldridge, Pastor Jerry Heslinga, Bill and Sue Ball, Paul Hughes, Glenn Fairchild, Ralph and Phyllis Carrico, Ramona McCollister, Dale Clark, Betty Douglas, Rev. Earl Dale…the list could stretch on to the horizon! Some have gone on to Glory…some were like “church moms” to me…and some were encouragers. All had a part in shaping me and causing me to press on!
Happy birthday, Ruth…I mean, Mrs. Kennedy!
Categories: children, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Parenting, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: being blessed, blessings, church saints, coaches, consistent, examples, faithful, Ironton, Ironton First Baptistm mentors, Ruth Kennedy, sainthood, Saints, spiritual maturity
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April 10, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. April 10, 2015
Yesterday my dad, my sister, and I went to the cemetery where my mom is buried. As we drove the hour and a half our conversation was story-filled. Dad told stories about my Uncle Milliard that had us laughing our heads off. Stories about my grandfather, Papaw Helton, were leg-slappers!
I could hear my aunts and uncles voices, saying things with their eastern Kentucky accents that are hard to imitate, although we continue to try.
Telling the stories…of my Papaw going to the chiropractor…of the very short time period my Uncle Milliard owned a Dairy Queen and knowing he was at the end of his rope when one evening he hollered out at the long line of people waiting “Doesn’t anybody eat at home any more?”…of my Uncle junior pinching my leg as we sat on the front porch swing…of my Mamaw Helton going out and just as natural as honey on a biscuit wringing the neck of a chicken, the first step in dinner preparation.
Telling the stories. We told stories to the cemetery and from the cemetery, and even at the cemetery as we paused at each grave marker of family members buried there. I was amazed to realize that my Mamaw Helton has been gone to glory for 37 years now. I was reminded of my Great Aunt Lizzie who lived to be 99 and took art classes at the local community college when she was 96. I gazed upon the military marker of my Uncle Dean and discovered that Dean was his middle name and Silas was his first name. My parents almost named me Silas, but they went for the “Dean” instead, inserted in between “William” and “Wolfe.”
Story-telling in the days of social media is a forgotten art.
It made me think about telling the story, the story of God, the story of people’s faith journeys. I hate to say it, but so often the story of God gets robbed of its impact. As I sit here and think about the stories of the Bible I’m awed.
Think of it! Jonah getting swallowed by a big fish…Paul having a viper wrapped around his arm, but charming it like a Barnum and Bailey Circus performer…the big fish stories of Jesus…Moses bringing a plague of frogs on the Egyptians.
The story of God is a totally amazing journey of faith that never gets old. My dad tells us some stories over and over again, but they never get old.
Same with the story in the Word. I read them over and over again and they never get old. Elijah’s foot speed…the Israelites walking around Jericho and blowing trumpets…Doubting Thomas…Fleecing Judas…Compulsive Peter.
As I look at my preaching on Sunday mornings I will try to keep the sacredness of the Story in mind, the specialness of the Story in my telling, and the source of the Story in my spirit.
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Death, Faith, Humor, Jesus, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: cemetery, family cemetery, family memories, family stories, Kentucky, sharing memories, Stories, stories of the Bible, Story, storytelling, telling the story
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Words from WW Blog 