Dead Man Talking

There is no way I can do justice by my meager writing here to capture the utter peace, joy and air of celebration which invaded the sanctuary of Little Rock West Church last Saturday morning.

It was a lengthy service and one that I did not want to end. It started with congregational singing and Bro. B.'s 85 year old widow was one of the first to stand, start clapping her hands, and raising them to Jesus in songs of loudest praise.

I had not heard him preach since I was a teen-ager so to walk into the auditorium with a big screen flashing pictures of him and his voice coming strong over a loud speaker was quite emotional and entertaining for me. He was the most sincere, the funniest, "the most" of any good adjective concerning preachers that you can ever imagine.

But the strongest message, among many, emphasized how much he loved his flock and the community around his church--he was pastor to a whole community.

Many stories abound of how he was the first one present in the middle of the night when there was a need, a hospitalization, a tragedy.  Some people there validated the fact that instead of calling their own pastor during a time of crisis, Bro. B.'s number was the first one dialed.

Two of his grandsons spoke--one a preacher himself following in the footsteps of his grandfather.

After I"ll Fly Away and several other rousing songs, a quartet from many, many years ago sang Beyond the Sunset, one of his favorites.

Bro. B could preach heaven down in a matter of minutes but he could not carry a tune in a bucket with a lid on it. However, there was one song that from time to time he would start singing out of the clear blue. We had an incredibly talented pianist who had perfect pitch--she played by ear and honestly I've never heard anyone in my life who could play better than she.

If anyone in the church started an unplanned song (this was quite common fifty years ago), she could, almost immediately, go straight to "the key" they were singing in and start the piano accompaniment. She would tell the guitarists and the accordion player (me) and away we would go. However, Bro. B.'s singing was so bad that she would hunt and hunt before she could find the "key" he was singing in. We always laughed and said he was "singing between the cracks of the keys."

In spite of the unheard of chords, when he started this particular song it was so anointed that if we had been lifted straight to glory at that moment, it would not have surprised us. So, when the song leader started

He's God all over the ocean,
He's God all over the sea,
He's God all over creation,
And he's God all over me,

I know God is God and He always will be God.

He's God in the pulpit,
He's God at the back door,
He's God in the Amen corner,
He's God all over the floor.

I know God is God and He always will be God.

He's God in the Father, He's God in the Son,
He's God in the Spirit, He's God all three in One.

I know God is God and He always will be God

Needless to say, we thought we all might go straight to Glory with Bro. B right then.
Oh My!

The tilt of his hat in this picture tells you just about everything you need to know about Bro. B.

Bro. Ballard was a patriot to the marrow of his bones. He served under Gen. Patton at the Battle of the Bulge during WW 2. When asked what he remembered Gen. Patton saying to his troops, what stood out in his mind was this: "Let's win this war, men, so we can go home."  Patton was smart enough to know that the mention of home would motivate them like nothing else.

A soldier presents Bro. B's widow with the American flag that draped his coffin.

When I took this picture I knew that Bro. B.'s widow had said her goodbyes to him back at the funeral home when they
brought in a chair and she sat down beside him, leaned over the casket and talked to his earthly tent for the very last time--the body that she had touched for the last sixty-nine years.  And this picture says to me:
O death where is thy sting?  O grave where is thy victory?

Well, Bro. B. was a mighty warrior--a warrior who has gone home to his reward--His greatest reward? Quite simply the privilege of laying his crowns at the feet of Jesus, the One He loved with all his heart.

The preacher who spoke shared this scripture as his text:

"By faith Abel brought God a better offering than Cain did. By faith he was commended as righteous, when God spoke well of his offerings. And by faith Abel still speaks, even though he is dead."  Hebrews 11:4

He made the point and gave many examples of how Bro. Ballard's voice is still speaking even though he is dead.

One of my favorite stories that was told Saturday morning went like this:

"I lived in the community around Bro. Ballard's church and I was not going to church at the time.  It was on a Saturday morning and I was out in the driveway working on a car and here comes Bro. B driving his little Opel, stops, gets out and proceeds to help me work on that car.

Now I don't know what I would have done if he had been driving a Cadillac cause it was all I could do to handle the load of conviction he dumped out of that little Opel, let alone a Cadillac."

In a pastoring career that spread over a half century, his voice has spoken to thousands of the great faithfulness of our Lord Jesus Christ. My friend, his voice speaks as loud or louder today than when the breath of life came from it.  Powerful words, aren't they--Dead Man Talking! What will my life say after I am gone?

Bro. B. was my hero--a better husband, a better father, a better pastor, a better soldier I have never known.

I will always hear his voice as long as I have life and a sane mind.  He was one of the propelling forces in my life who taught me to love God more than my next breath.  And since his oldest daughter was my best friend and I spent more weekends at their home than I did my own, he was more than my pastor, he  was my father.

Bro. B.'s burial was in a small town about an hour and a half drive from the Little Rock area.  It is a little out of the way town that I had not returned to in fifty years.  It brought back many memories of my teen-aged trips there with their family.

As the day drew to a close, my heart was sad but so, so glad--so glad that I had been privileged to know this 5'5" tall giant of a man whose legacy will go on as long as this world lasts.


Always listening for His voice and his too,
Dianne
2011-the Year of Beyond

Shattering the Darkness

Yesterday my husband and I drove to Memphis, TN to host a booth at the Bellevue Baptist Church's Missions Fair. The theme this year is "Shattering the Darkness."

Many different ministries come in and set up booths depicting the particular work that God has called them to.  They are all equally worthy and I pray that the call of God would touch many hearts there at Bellevue to support the various ministries.

In the missionary's message to us, he stated that he once heard it said that every Christian should have a ministry and a mission.  The ministry being to minister to other Christians more needy than oneself and the mission to bless those who do not know Christ.

The ministry and mission that Larry and I have been blessed to become a part of is operated by gifts from individuals and churches.  We are brand new and still needing people who will link up arm in arm with us and be willing to invest a few dollars a month to a great cause.

For many years when we were raising three sons, I had several ministries that my heart yearned to support. Somehow I thought that I had to give $25, $50 or more a month to make an impact.  I realize now that had I only sent $5 a month, it would have made a difference.

Here are several of the worthy ministries hosting a booth:

Fellowship of Christian Athletes was particularly instrumental in my own sons' lives and I will always be grateful for the work they do.

If we love God, love people, share Jesus and make disciples, we will shatter many dark places.  Oh God, help us to bring light wherever we go--help us to play a part in shattering the darkness so that light may penetrate to the very last people group on earth.

Always loving you my dearest friends,
Dianne
2011-the Year of Beyond

After the Storm

A tremendous line of thunderstorms carrying tornadoes swooped through central Arkansas on Thursday evening. This is a picture of one of the residents looking at the awesome beauty of God's handiwork after the storm was over.

I couldn't help but wonder if his mind was going forward anticipating the beauty to come in his own life after the storms of the last few years are over. He is doing very well and I have every hope, faith and confidence that he, along with many others, is going to make it through the program and graduate with high honors.

Right now they are learning to take one day at a time--to be victorious in Christ one moment at a time--

Renewal Ranch has been in operation for three full weeks. At a meeting last night, the director was telling how he'd personally had a very trying day on Wednesday of this week. As he was feeling the pressure and stress of starting and maintaining this great ministry, he heard a knock on his front door.

It was S. He had memorized eight scriptures earlier in his stay but was wanting to quote twelve more scriptures to James--twenty scriptures committed to memory in three weeks time. Somehow the cares and stress of the day lifted with the repeating of God's living Word.

Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:13b,14

Always loving you,
Dianne
2011-the Year of Beyond

I Hope You Dance

You did it: you changed wild lament
into whirling dance;
You ripped off my black mourning band
and decked me with wildflowers.
I'm about to burst with song,
I can't keep quiet about you.
God, my God,
I can't thank you enough. Psalm 30:11-12

Good morning dear Lord, I love you. I give you the highest praise.

Lord, you know what I'm here for--to ask your favor and protection upon my children. Lord, I pray that they would be obedient and compliant with Your Holy Spirit so that You can accomplish all that You desire for them in this lifetime. I pray that they will give you supreme place in their lives--that they would have no other gods before You.

And I pray that if their hearts are heavy today about anything, Lord, that you will change their murmurings, gripings and complainings into wild and joyful dance. Oh God, I can just picture them clothed in wildflowers from head to toe and singing at the tops of their lungs. Give them this kind of joy, Father--the joy that can only be found in You.

I pray that You would place a love for righteousness and a hatred for wickedness in their hearts.  Let them love what is good, wholesome and Godly.

Lord, I pray this in the precious, sweet Name of Your Son, Jesus Christ.  Amen

You have loved righteousness and hated wickedness; therefore God, your God, has set you above your companions by anointing you with the oil of joy.  Hebrews 1:9

I hope you dance,
Dianne
2011-the Year of Beyond

Dancing on Streets of Gold

I received a phone call today about 12:42 PM from my life-long friend, Marilyn. Her first words were, "Well, I just called to tell you that Daddy is dancing on streets of gold." He made his entrance into the pearly gates about 12:40. If I ever wondered if Jesus is being magnified, I would wonder no longer. I have never known anyone who worshiped the way he worshiped--total abandonment, no inhibition whatsoever--when he started praying, he was in his closet--there was no one else in the room.

In the latter part of 2009, I shared this post. It was entitled:

No Liquids On Your Keyboard

I met him when I was eleven years old. I never could have known then how he was to affect my life. His oldest daughter became my best friend. You know the old, old gloves that fit no matter how your hands change over the years--the warm winter toboggan that ends up the focal point of every winter picture--that is what she and her family and her dad--my pastor during my youth--are like to me. Comfort, pure comfort--no matter when, no matter where--no matter how many years have separated us.


He is now up in his late eighties--Parkinson's has ravaged a once vibrant and zestful personality. Quite unbelievably though, almost every time I go to see him and his wife of almost seventy years, his old personality shines through. He, once again, is the young preacher with the spirited congregation worshiping the Lord in spirit and in truth. His conversation is laced with old, amusing stories and tears when talking about starting a new church and preaching once more.


He is funny, quite animated and makes me smile and laugh out loud. He is the essence of the young preacher man who I have vivid memories of down on one knee, tears streaming down his face, talking to God in a loud, pleading voice with all the sincerity one could muster--yet, with one eye open ready to lovingly but firmly discipline the fidgety teenagers on the back row.


We respected and loved him so much though that it was a rare occurence when he rose from that knee and came walking purposefully toward that back row and let us know in a strong velvet-like voice that we were still in the House of the Lord.


Years after we sat under his fiery but compassionate preaching, my brother, with a twinkle in his eye, would joke about this scenario: (funny--I never noticed this but Johnny, who was a teenager at the time, did). My brother says that when a certain bosomy young woman, who always wore sweaters, walked up the aisle to the podium to sing a solo, Bro. B, as we called him, would always say, "Now, let's keep our minds on the Lord." I think my brother's guilt feelings had a part in embellishing that story just a little bit.


Recently when he was in the hospital and very sick, Bro. B told this story. It seems there was a certain preacher who had a reputation for his prayers being answered really fast. One Sunday a young overweight man came down front asking for prayer that God would help him lose weight. Quite confidently and loudly right before he started to pray, the reverend told the young man, "Grab your britches, boy." He has always loved to tell "preacher" jokes.


Bro. B has always fought giving in to the Parkinson's and becoming incapacitated and dying. Lately, the fight has not been going well. His daughter, my best friend, emailed me this morning to tell me that he has started talking about "going home." When one of his daughters asked him if he was referring to heaven, he quite simply said, "Yes, I am going home in a few days." I emailed my friend back to ask her if she knew that you weren't supposed to get liquids all over your keyboard.

************************************

His few days turned in to a year and a half--he went to a nursing home after the above story happened -- One resident told Bro. B's family that he had passed her room in his wheel chair about fifty times that day.  There was always "somebody else" that needed to know about the Lord.  The nurses finally put the brakes on his wheel chair, but that didn't stop him.  Marilyn told me today that he had worn all the rubber off the tires where the brake tried to hold.  Such passion for Christ!

Would you please pray for the Ballard family.  His wife told me today right outside his hospital room shortly after his home-going that she would not bring him back for anything, she was just trying to figure out how she is going to live without him.  It won't be easy after seventy years but I know God will lift her and the three daughters up to fly like eagles--maybe in their soaring they can catch a glimpse of those dancing feet--you know, the streets of gold are transparent--so I am going to look up!

Always loving you,
Dianne
2011-the Year of Beyond