Dear Jimmy,
Well, your poor ol’ uncle Orley and I have been travelin’ around like gypsies visitin’ family whenever the snow doesn’t keep us home. Maybe you’ve heard from some of the other relatives that Orley and Ida are makin’ the rounds durin’ these cold winter months when a body’s gettin’-out options are limited.
I don’t rightly know what’s got into me. Maybe I just went plumb stir-crazy ‘cause of the cold weather. That’s what Orley says. He says the only difference between how I am now and my usual self is the stir part. But I have a notion he’s teasin’ me ’cause even if he doesn’t often say it, I feel loved. That’s a good feelin’, as you know.
Jim White
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’Course, we’ve had our ups and downs like most other couples. Fact is, we went for a spell when it just seemed like we both were on a constant mad. It got so bad I finally dragged him in to see the pastor. That was a long time ago when Bro. Putnam Downs was there. I doubt you recall him ‘cause he didn’t stay with us long.
The whole time he was preachin’ at Blue Bell Baptist he was lookin’ for a bigger church and to our relief, he found one. While he was our preacher it just seemed like I’d leave church feelin’ worse off than when I came. He seemed to think we might get to thinkin’ too highly of ourselves and it was his callin’ to use his spiritual gift of discouragement to set us right.
Anyhow, I finally got Orley to go with me to see this fella and, as is the usual state, Orley didn’t have much to say when we got there. So I commenced to tellin’ the preacher how I just felt like Orley was mad at me all the time and, truth bein’ told, I was right put out with him most of the time, too.
Well, you’ll never believe what this preacher did. He got up and came over to me and looked at Orley and says, “This is what your wife needs at the start of every mornin’.” And then he planted a big kiss right on my mouth! Well, I jerked back a-spittin’ and wipin’ my lips on my sleeve and givin’ him the evil eye. But he just stood back lookin’ plumb pleased with himself.
I looked over at Orley thinkin’ I might have to tackle him to keep him from doin’ bodily harm to the holy man, but he just looked kind of puzzled like. Finally, he says, “Well, OK. What time do you want me to bring her in every mornin’?’’
Well, if it took a long time to get him to agree to go see the pastor, it took no time at all to get him to leave. All the way home I was a-rantin’ on and on about the nerve of that man and threatenin’ to quit goin’ to church. But, I guess Orley was doin’ a powerful lot of thinkin’ ‘cause from that day I never felt unloved again. Now, I don’t think it was all Orley. Lookin’ back, I can see that I started lookin’ for things he did that showed he loved me instead of lookin’ for things that showed he didn’t. That made a powerful difference, too.
But, that’s not what I was writin’ you about. I guess this bein’ the week of Valentine’s Day my thoughts got hijacked for a spell.
No, what I was gettin’ around to was to say that while your uncle and I were visitin’ your dear Aunt Shelby we went to church with them on Sunday. You may recall that they go to Bypass Road Baptist. Well, this is an old, old church, I don’t rightly know how old, but the pews they sit on every Sunday were hand made by the church folk 140 years ago.
Obviously, they did a good job ‘cause these pews still do their job. But things have changed in 140 years. For one thing, sermons went on and on even more than today. If people heard a sermon that was only an hour long they figured the preacher must not have had time to prepare. ’Course, some folk today would say the same thing if the sermon went an hour. But back then long, long sermons were kind of expected. So they had to make the pews extra uncomfortable to make it more trouble for church folk to pass plumb out in the middle of the preacher’s discourse.
But as you might expect, these pews are special to Bypass Road folk ‘cause they have been there so long and I expect some of the folk there have ancestors that did the sawin’ and hammerin’ in the first place. Well, bless me, if they don’t have an interim pastor who convinced these good people that they should remodel the sanctuary and sell off these old pews and buy brand spankin’ new ones.
I can tell you from my single Sunday with them that folks will enjoy sittin’ in the service a heap more with new pews, but the thing that I keep thinkin’ about is how proud I am of folks who will let go of the past when it is holdin’ them back even if it’s a big part of their history.
These Bypass Road folk have made me do some thinkin’ about good ol’ Blue Bell Baptist and the things we need to move on past. For example, there’s the clock in the sanctuary. It’s one of those genuine Regulator schoolhouse clocks in a walnut case and is a mighty fine example of craftsmanship. And besides that, in the ancient days of 1878, to be exact, Thurman Redman’s grandpappy brought that clock home from New York City and it’s been hangin’ in Blue Bell ever since.
The only problem is it quit keepin’ time at some point when the first Bush was President and according to the experts, it’s beyond repair. Thurman threw such a conniption when Bro. Bobby suggested replacin’ it with one that actually runs that the matter was dropped and we are content to have this relic hanin’ on our wall.
I wonder how many churches are hangin’ on to things that don’t work any more. In our case, it’s a clock. But I guess it could be a program of some kind or the order of worship or tent revivals or whatever. I have to hand it to Bypass Road for havin’ the gumption to turn their faces to the future and let go of some parts of the past.
Well, I’ve got to close. My sweetheart is callin’ me. He probably wants his mornin’ kiss. Or maybe breakfast. Come see us when you can.
With my love, Aunt Ida