While He Still Knows Who I Am

As I listen to this song I am reminded of my Daddy. For the past 3 1/2 years I spent a lot of time with him. He had Alzheimer's. I would go sit with him on Thursdays, and go to every doctor appointment with him. I watched the gradual decline. I remember telling some of the family that they needed to come see him while he still knew who they were. Some came, but others weren't able to. And now he's gone and they will never have that opportunity again. That's not to say they could help it. Sometimes distance, obligations, and your own health prevent you from doing what you want to do. So this isn't a judgment against anyone. But it is a reminder for those who have family and friends suffering from this terrible disease...if you are able, go see them while they can still remember who you are. There will come a day when they may forget you. Fortunately for me, Daddy never forgot who I was. But he forgot other people or confused them with someone else. Often times he would think my step brother Curtis was his brother Bobby. Not everyday, but on occasion. Curtis lived in the house with him. So it wasn't just a matter of seeing you all the time that made him remember. It's just how the brain worked on that particular day. Daddy hated the confusion he felt at times. He would tell doctors to ask me or my step sister for the answers to their questions. He knew that he trusted us. He just didn't understand what was going on. I really HATE Alzheimer's. It's a cruel disease.

Today is the day that we celebrate the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He is the most precious gift that anyone could ever receive. But so often we get tied up in the materialism of the season and forget what it's supposed to be about. As I was out shopping I saw people buying all the latest gadgets. When you asked the kids what they wanted, it generally revolved around some new technology. Even little kids are wanting cell phones. Mostly they want to play games on the phone. Technology is kind of a two edged sword. On one side, it is good. I mean, I love being able to connect with people around the world. But then some use it for bad. Anyway, that's not really the point of my blog. I just think we get too focused on what gifts we'll get and forget about the reason we celebrate.

You know, Jesus came to serve, not to be served. He was a giver. And he loved giving. But he always looked beneath the surface of what a person thought they needed. He would meet a tangible need while addressing the spiritual. The woman caught in adultery was about to be stoned. She needed rescuing. He didn't condemn, but rather, extended compassion and mercy. You see, condemnation offers no hope. But here was Jesus offering hope. She may have thought her only need was to be saved from death, but Jesus offered salvation of another kind through his forgiveness. Can you imagine how she must have felt when all of her accusers walked away? Can you imagine that feeling of gratitude? Each and every day I am amazed at the forgiveness God offers. I mess up. I miss the mark. But his mercies are new every morning. And he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins when we come to him and repent. There are so many religions out there that require you to DO something in order to make it to heaven. I've often questioned, "Why would I want to work my butt off to 'try' to make it to heaven?" I mean, think about it....all that work and no guarantee? But with Jesus, I don't have to work to earn a place in heaven. The only work necessary was the work accomplished on the cross. Yes! Thank you, Jesus!

Let your love be my companion

In the war against my pride

Long to break all vain obsession

Till you're all that I desire

At the beginning of this song, he speaks about the the fight to humble ourselves and not think too highly about ourselves. This got me thinking about how over the years I've always stressed about what others might think of me. I'm a little better now that I'm older, but I still struggle with it at times. But you know, even that is thinking more highly of myself than I ought. It's not like people sit around thinking about me all the time. Pride can can come in a vast array of packages and sometimes we may not recognize it as pride at first. So what exactly is pride? There are a variety of definitions for the word, so I'm going to focus on a few: 

arrogance

haughtiness

presumption

exaltation

elevation

feeling you are more important or better than other people

inordinate self esteem: conceit

self regard

Pride likes us to exalt ourselves and to make us think we are better than others; that our wants, needs, and desires are more important than theirs. This is truly in opposition to what God's Word teaches us. In Philippians 2:3-4 it says:

"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others."

Wow...looking to the interests of others before we look out for ourselves? But what about that "looking out for number one" statement we always hear? Well, apparently that's not how God sees things. Does that mean we aren't to take care of ourselves at all? No, it doesn't mean that. We're going to work, to pay our bills, etc. But in doing those things we can't forget that others have needs as well. Think about the widow of Zarephath and her son, 1 Kings 17:10-13 says this:

"So he set out and went to Zarephath. When he came to the gate of the town, a widow was there gathering sticks; he called to her and said, 'Bring me a little water in a vessel, so that I may drink.' As she was going to bring it, he called to her and said, 'Bring me a morsel of bread in your hand.' But she said, 'As the LORD your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug; I am now gathering a couple of sticks, so that I may go home and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it, and die.' Elijah said to her, 'Do not be afraid; go and do as you have said; but first make me a little cake of it and bring it to me, and afterwards make something for yourself and your son. For thus says the LORD the God of Israel: The jar of meal will not fail until the day that the LORD sends rain on the earth.' She went and did as Elijah said, so that she as well as he and her household ate for many days. The jar of meal was not emptied, neither did the jug of oil fail, according to the word of the LORD that he spoke by Elijah."

Now, she could have said she didn't have enough to share. But she didn't do that. She had been given a word and she shared what she had with Elijah even in her fear. But God has a way of blessing us when we bless others, when we think of their needs, and especially if He specifically gave us a word to do something. Still, this took a step of faith.  And she had to lay down her pride. Okay, you're wondering how this relates to pride? Typically, that looking out for number one, that placing self above others would have kicked in and demanded you keep it all for yourself or you'd die. So right there, it shows me that before we can act in faith, we have to lay down pride. 

Now let's take a look at Romans 12:1-3:

"Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you."

Okay, all my Christian life, I've heard people talk about those first two verses in Romans. And many times people are so consumed with the fact that we are to offer ourselves as sacrifices to God because that's a form of worship that they forget the other part that follows. In our submission to God, in our transforming of our mind (or the Word transforming it for us), we will come to realize that we are not all that. And in the verses that follow this (that I haven't posted) it talks about us being one body, and how everyone of us plays a part. This got me thinking about how men tend to exalt one calling over another. A pastor isn't any better than the person whose cleaning the toilets for the church. His position is an act of service to Christ and to the body just like the janitor's is. Jesus himself said that whoever wanted to be first would be last. Humility and considering others before ourselves is highly pleasing to God. But let me say this, never put another person on a pedestal. I admire pastors and worship leaders and such, but I can't think that they are perfect and that they will never mess up. I can't think that they have all the answers. That would be exalting them to the position that only God should hold. 

So what about presumption? How does that play into this whole pride thing? When I hear the word I immediately think of someone being presumed innocent until proven guilty. You know, the legal usage of the word. But how many times have we presumed something about the word that wasn't actually true? I've had people vehemently preach scripture to me, almost demanding that their interpretation was truth and basically refusing to listen to instruction or another interpretation from anyone else. It was like their mind was set that they couldn't possibly be wrong. That's pretty dangerous ground. When you think that you are beyond the need for instruction or correction, you're presuming you have all the answers and that no one knows more than you. It kind of borders with arrogance. 

It is my thinking that pride is the opposite of humility. Pride exalts. Humility brings low. Jesus was the prefect example of humility. Philippians 2:5-8 tells us:

"Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death-- even death on a cross!"

Whew! There is so much more to be said about pride versus humility. And so many of the lyrics to this song that I didn't touch on. For now, I'm going to stop. 

Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the water
Wherever you would call me
Take me deeper than my feet can ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

Whenever I hear these words I think this is more than just a song about taking you to some other land. Oh sure, it could be that people will like it because it reminds them to go into all the world, that God is calling them out of their comfort zone, beyond the borders of their own land. But I think it's much more complex than that. I think it's a reminder to trust God in all things. To trust Him wherever this journey leads, whether to a foreign land or through some major trial or even just doing something He asks. Sometimes we go through some pretty scary stuff in this life. It is generally in the times of the most intense trials that we begin to question God. But you know, even in the questions, we can trust Him. We may not understand, but we can obey when He is leading us to somewhere we may find uncomfortable. Maybe it's something as simple as stepping out in a ministry that we find challenging. I know that when I first sang in front of people it was quite frightening. It would have been so easy to just avoid it, but I felt that it was something God wanted me to do. There are still times when I feel those butterflies in my stomach, when my mouth gets dry from the nerves, but I press on. And then there is my most recent call...a call to be there for my Dad. It was quite a challenge for me to step back into his life when he had hurt me so deeply and had basically abandoned me as a child. But he was in need. And as a believer, I had to forgive him. Even though I had said I forgave him long ago, I was called to not only say the words, but to show him through my actions. Was it easy? Not always. But you know, it definitely made my faith stronger. It gave me a compassion for my Dad that I didn't think possible. It gave me a strength I could not have attained without God's help.

It's been said, "if it's God's will, it will be done." It's so much easier to just trust and obey from the onset. That's not to say that you will always feel like it is easier. There may be times you feel like giving up. But if you can just cling a little longer, God will see you through it. And you will come out on the other side with a whole new perspective on things and a deeper trust than you ever felt possible.

RIP Joseph M. Jackson

Joseph M. Jackson, 79, of Maxville, Florida died peacefully on Sunday, December 1, 2013 in Jacksonville, Florida.

He was born November 24, 1934 to Robert M. & Dorothy Jackson in Jacksonville, Florida. He served in the United States Marine Corps and was a veteran of the Korean War. He held many positions over the years, but eventually retired from Flowers Bakery.  He loved to play guitar and sing.

He is survived by his 3 children, Karen Jackson, Janice Peterson (Gerald), and Richard Jackson (Elaine),  4 step children, Curtis Walker, Jimmy Walker, Cindy Salmons (Chris), and Joanie Ashton (Alan), 3 sisters, Essie Bias, Annette Jackson Hendrix (Ralph), and Patricia Jaggers (Robert), 1 brother, Thomas Jackson (Barbara),  12 grandchildren and  20 great-grandchildren, and several nieces and nephews. 

He is predeceased by his wife, Evelyn Lucille Jackson, his step daughter, Sandra Walker, his 3 brothers, Robert C. Jackson, David Jackson, and John M. Jackson, his sister, Etta Marie Hatcher, and his parents, Robert M. Jackson and Dorothy Ida Woods. 

**This is not going to be well written...just rambling about stuff as it comes to mind.**

On Sunday, December 1, 2013 at approximately 9:30 a.m. my father departed this life. I knew that this was where it was headed, but I don't think one can ever be fully prepared for the loss of someone they love. He was in Hospice at St. Vincent's Hospital at the time of his death. After much discussion with doctors and family we felt this was the best option for him. He had no chance of a recovery, short of a miraculous intervention. On the night before his death the family had been notified that if they wanted to see him they should come then. And many of them did come. They stood around his bedside declaring their love for him. They reminisced about their lives with him, laughing at times, crying at other times. I was there, but stood back and allowed them their time. I had been with my Dad every week since his wife passed in June of 2010. He had Alzheimer's. I went to all of his doctor appointments. I spent time with him at his home. I made sure he knew I loved him long before this night came. I can recall one day when I was over at his house and getting him to go take a nap, I told him I loved him. He looked up to me, patted my hand and said, "I know you do. I'm glad you're here." One would have to know the details of my life and his to know how significant that moment was.

On the day of Daddy's funeral my Aunt Annette said a few words about him. But so much was left unsaid. I mean, how do you tell a person's life in just a few short words? So many thoughts and feelings flood through my brain. "I should have said this" pops into my head over and over. So let me just say a few words about Joseph M. Jackson. They will in no way express the totality of who he was, but they are just a few thoughts.

Joe Jackson was a man I loved and admired. I wanted nothing from him except his love and approval. Everything I did revolved around that. As children, my sister and I would often say we were going to marry him or my Uncle Mickey. Both of them were handsome, strong men. Daddy was a man of few words, but when he spoke, you listened. He didn't have to raise his voice to get you to do something. He had an authority about him that demanded you listen and then act. Daddy loved to sing and play guitar. I recall him singing, "Little Red Wagon, King of the Road, Smoke that Cigarette" and other songs. He dreamed of being in a band. Oh, he said he tried when he was younger, but it didn't work out. Even though he didn't see me often, he loved that I sang. I think in some ways the reason I loved music and singing so much was because when I did sing that focused his attention on me. Daddy was an intelligent man. He was a leader among men. Some called him supervisor, boss, manager, whatever....but it all boils down to his ability to lead people.

We had horses when I was young and he would ride with his friend to the Bit and Spur and they'd barrel race. He loved horses. When we had to get rid of the horses, he got a red Mustang (car). I think that's kind of ironic.
I can remember him and his friend pretending to have a shootout in our front yard. Horses and guns go together, you know. Guess in some ways he wanted to be a cowboy.  Daddy could be redneck when the situation called for it, but having served in the Marines, I think some of that was tempered. He had an odd sense of humor. Maybe that's where I get mine from. I can remember going to Ocala with him, his wife, her kids, and me, my brother and sister. My step mother had tried to make me eat oatmeal and I refused. So I was sent to the bedroom for punishment. They went off, and me being the rebel child decided to go outside anyway. Some punks from the area came around taunting us. They threw a bottle and it hit my thumb and cut it. When my dad returned the stepsisters ran out telling him I had been cut by a bottle they threw at me. Well, that angered my dad and he took off down the road to hunt them down. He called the Sheriff to come to the house. Well, daddy comes back to the cabin and asks to see my thumb (before the Sheriff had arrived). When I showed him (it was a very small cut) he looked at me and said, "You know what I'm going to have to do, don't you?" I said, "No sir." With a most serious expression on his face he responded, "I'm going to have to cut your thumb." I stood there for what seemed an eternity and then said, "Okay." He started laughing so hard and then grabbed me and hugged me and told me he would never do that. He was just kidding. My dad worked at the Florida Times Union for a while and I can remember him taking me to work with him. My step sister went along. We went into the restroom (which was for men and women) and she thought the men's urinal was a sink and washed her hands in it. Well, as soon as we got out to my dad I had to tell everyone that she washed her hands in the toilet. Daddy scolded me as he snickered about it. We both knew that he thought that was funny. He had many funny little sayings too.

Daddy was man who could do a lot of things well. If he didn't know how to do something he'd learn it. He built my mama's house, and later he built a house for him and his new wife. He was very handy with machinery. He worked designing tools. He later worked doing maintenance at Flowers Bakery (he retired from there). He loved to keep his yard neat and at one point had a lawn service.

Looking back over my life, I have very few memories of him in comparison to other people. But I cherish those that I do have. And I am glad that I had the opportunity to be with him for the last 3 years of his life. There is nothing more humbling than having to serve someone who didn't always do right by you. But in those times spent caring for him, I developed a deep compassion for him. I hated watching this terrible disease destroy the man he had been. I hatred that he was suffering. If anyone thought the decision to put him in hospice was the wrong one, it doesn't matter. I know in my heart that I did the right thing by signing those papers.

That day before they moved Daddy to hospice, me and my sister stood by his bedside and sang "Go Rest High" and "Suppertime." I knew we would use those songs at his funeral, but we wanted him to hear them. And we wanted him to know that we were okay if he was ready to go on home. His time on earth was over and he had our permission to leave. On the day of his departure, me, my brother and sister were the last 3 to see him alive, which is as it should be. I think God arranged that. My brother had to leave, and things grew quiet in the room. I've often heard that people wait until they think they're alone to die. And I think Daddy thought he was alone. I wasn't looking at him and there was no significant change to alert me to look at him, but all of a sudden I had an odd feeling come over me (one I can't explain) and I bolted out of my chair and placed my hand on his chest. He was still warm, but there was no breath. I don't know what other people believe, but I think his spirit leaving his body brushed past me and I sensed it. There's no other explanation...I told my sister, the last two people he laid eyes on were me and her as he looked down. The last 4 people to see him alive were Jacksons. I know people don't understand why that is so significant, but it truly is. It really is God's gift to my family. And for that I'm grateful.