A Celebration of My Father

Today, I am grateful for my earthly father, Bobby Bembry, who shaped my life through the wisdom he shared. Some of the things he said seemed funny and hard to figure out like, “You can’t lead a goat to water because you can’t make him drink. You can make a horse drink but a goat’s going to do what he wants to do” and “You don’t leave a dead dog in the road. It just stinks.” Both statements, as well as many others he would make, are profound. The goat statement tells us some people will never change and it’s not our job to make them change. There are a couple of thoughts in the second hidden gem: first, we don’t need to put all of our personal business out there for everyone to see and run over; second, we need to clean up any problems we have before they get us run over by cars or eaten by buzzards.

Today, my daddy would have been celebrating his 84th birthday. I am thankful God put him in my life to help mold me into the man I am today.

My father, seated, surrounded by, from left to right: my youngest sister, Abbie; myself; and my brother.

Elegy for Mama

Today, I am grateful for the wonderful woman God gave me to be my mama and my friend. Twenty-one years ago today, my mother left this earth and entered into the realms of Glory. I remember the battle to keep her here as I was told by my friends, Rob Covell and Lori Williams, who worked for Madison County EMS, and by Dr. Adolfo Dulay. I appreciate everything they did, but God had other plans for my mother and he allowed her to go Home. She had a hard life, losing three of her precious children, who she was reunited with. Although many times I wish she was still here, so I could share a problem I have with her, or to share a moment of happiness, I know that I would never want to remove her from her place of Joy. She is in the presence of the Lord.

Through the Fog

Three years ago, I began writing a book about being a caregiver for my sister. The book still hasn’t been finished and it’s shifted to not only being about Abbie, but also about Danny and my attempts to help care for them and provide for their needs. For so long, I have attempted to care for my family but time after time, I find they care for me. I once dreamed of a day when I can make enough money editing and writing to pay off our house, our car, provide food, and other necessities and be able to live stress-free. Maybe I will, but even if I never do, I know God is always good to me and my family. Below is the original beginning of the book I began about Abbie:

Through the Fog

A heavy fog blanketed the roadway on a misty morning. As my low beam headlights cut through the fog, I began wondering about my sister, Abbie, and more specifically, about the way she thinks.

I wondered if her thoughts were foggy, and that made it more difficult for her to be dependent, as a mentally-challenged individual. I wondered that, if sometimes, when I see her smile because she has had an epiphany that her low beam highlights had not increased with a flick of the switch or a tap of the toe to full brightness.

I often wonder how Abbie’s mind works. Since it is a rare occasion that she ever speaks, there are many questions that I ask her that go unanswered unless the answer to the questions comes through body language – a smile, a frown, a shrug of the shoulders, shaking her hands in frustration, tapping her fingers on the top of her head because she has a headache, or touching her finger to her forehead to indicate she is thinking about the question that I asked.

People often ask how I communicate with my younger sister. I tell them that it’s hard to explain, but that, if you have been around her as often as I have, you learn to pick up on her non-verbal cues and facial expressions.

Maybe others do not see my sister the way that I do, but I see her as a genteel, Southern lady, a “steel magnolia” – “Gentle as the sweet magnolia/Strong as steel, her faith and pride/She’s a everlasting shoulder/The leaning post of life…” (Lyrics from “Eagle When She Flies,” written by Dolly Parton). Abbie has the gentlest heart of anyone I know, yet she is strong-willed and strong-minded. When she is soft, she reminds me of my mother, and the character played by Darryl Hannah in the movie, “Steel Magnolias.” When she is strong-willed and strong-minded, she reminds me of the character played by Shirley MacLaine in “Steel Magnolias” and the character played by Jessica Tandy in “Driving Miss Daisy.” Sometimes, I think she is going to look at my brother, Danny, or me, in a combination of a strong-willed and soft-hearted moment when she has had us do her bidding, and proclaim like Miss Daisy did to her driver, “Hoke, you’re my best friend.”

As the rain falls outside my window, and I hear the pitter-patter of it to the ground, I give thanks that God has given me Abbie for a sister. Some may see my work with her as a challenge, but, for me, it is a great opportunity, and one, for which I will always be grateful. I will wander through the fog with Abbie until the end of my days.

Looking for Love

I used to pray for love and for riches. I remember praying for success and having enough money to travel anywhere, buy anything I want and be able to help others while basking in my wealth. I remember praying that I would find a beautiful woman to love me. The only two women that I ever truly prayed would love me was one when I was a student in college at NFJC; the other was a couple of years after I had left FSU. Both were cases of unrequited love. I have had hundreds of crushes and thoughts of being in love but those were the only two that I ever thought that I had truly loved. Years later, I realized that I did not truly love them. Still, there are thoughts of “what if” and “if only” that I don’t feel for any other women. My prayers for money today are prayers to have just enough money to pay my bills and get by. Today, I realize that I did find true love lying in a manger in Bethlehem and dying on a cross at Calvary and I know that I will have unlimited wealth when I enter the gates of Glory, whether I go by the Rapture or by death. Thank you, God, for giving me answers to prayers even though I may have thought you didn’t answer them at the time.

Cage Without a Key

Someone out there has a key to the cage I am trapped in.

It is cold here. It is damp here. It is dark here. It hurts here, but it is not from the physical pain. The prison I am locked in is on an island. The island is isolated. I am the only one here. I am lonely.

I know one day someone special will come and put the key in the lock and let me out of this prison and take me away from this penal institution of doubt, fear, nothingness, and being alone.

I thought I had broken free but I was wrong. I was captured again and placed back in here by someone who I had given the power to do it. I let down the guard to my heart. My mind should never have wandered in her direction.

Someday, someone will bring me a key that will open the iron doors that hold me in. In the meantime, I sit here but my spirit flies free because someone took a cross-shaped key and opened a million other prisons for me when He carried that key up a hill called Calvary and opened the doors to my soul’s prison. I sit and listen to Him comfort me and keep me warm and free of fear and doubt.

Someday, someone special will bring me the key that will free me from my prison of physical loneliness, but Jesus makes sure my spirit is comforted and never lonely.

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The Beautiful Princess

Once upon a time, in a fairytale land and in a fairytale castle lived the most beautiful princess ever written about. Like Helen of Troy in mythology, her face launched a thousand ships. Poets wrote poems about her but they could not capture her essence. The world’s master artists attempted to paint her but they could not capture her beauty.

She not only had beauty. She also had a great voice and a talent for music. People loved to hear her sing, for, in the sound of her song, one could hear the beat of her heart. In that beat, though, there was a longing – the longing was for her one true love and for things not of this world.

Each evening, she would gaze out her window at the heavens and wish upon a star. Somewhere, far away, there had to be a kingdom other than the realm she reigned over.

Far, far away, there lived a pauper who had only seen one of the paintings of the princess hanging in a museum. The beauty that the master had captured with oils on the canvas had failed miserably at capturing her true beauty but it was enough to stir a passion in the pauper. He yearned to meet her but how could he do it? He was but a poor, hardworking soul that knew his station in life. She was a princess.

The pauper looked at the book that he had owned for years. He felt its leather binding. It had been given to him as a child by his grandmother. It was the only book that he had ever owned but how he loved to read it. The book was filled with stories about history and mystery. There were tales of intrigue in it. It was filled with poetry and there were even stories of romance in it.

Towards the end of the book, there seemed to be a theme that brought the first part of the book together. In that part, there were stories about one Man. The pauper thought of how the princess would love to read about the Man.

He lovingly wrote a letter to the princess and found a box to put the treasured book in. He scraped up enough pennies for postage and mailed the letter and the book to the princess.

When the princess got the book, she began to read it. She devoured every word in it. As she got near the end, she learned about the Man. The Man’s name was Jesus.

As she sat in the bedroom of her castle, everything that had once before appeared beautiful to her now seemed drab and ugly. Even her reflection in the mirror had changed.

She fell to her knees beside her bed and asked Jesus to come into her heart and feel that longing and made everything beautiful again. He heard that prayer and faithfully answered it.

The longing for her one true love remained but she knew where to find him. She looked at the return address on the box containing the book.

She ordered a team of horses drawn up and she had her driver take her to the pauper.

When she arrived, their eyes locked. She was beautiful but she saw in him a beauty she knew that was created by his warm, caring heart.

They embraced. She whispered in his ear that he was to come and marry her and be her prince.

The two of them lived in the kingdom on Earth but knew that they had been promised a kingdom not made with man’s hands because in accepting Jesus Christ as their Savior, they were both children of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

And they lived happily ever after on Earth and then in Heaven.

By Jacob Bembry

Available in my book, HIGHER CALL, in paperback for $10 or $2.99 or FREE on Kindle Unlimited on Amazon. Signed copies of the paperback are available by sending $10 plus $3 shipping and handling to Jacob Bembry, PO Box 9334, Lee, FL 32059.

Crickets Jingle Jangle a Melody

Crickets jingle jangle a melody in the early morning silence. A freight train rumbles down the track, from the east. It strikes a discordant note with the song the crickets sing. On the TV, I watch the frazzled face of Harry Dean Stanton in a movie where Harvey Keitel has the eyes of a television camera.

As the world spins, each of us falls through space at over one million miles an hour. We don’t feel it. We go cheerily along our way, most of us not cognizant of that amazing miracle God has given us. So many miracles we overlook every day of our lives – the air we breathe, the sites we see, the dreams we dream.

Some try to create their own miracles with their own actions. They seek thrills, through activities such as trying dangerous stunts, or putting pills in their bodies that cause them to hallucinate thrills. While parachuting or driving cars or diving off cliffs or manmade structures may create a real thrill, briefly, drugs only create manufactured thrills. The thrills are not real, and, at their most, are surreal. For real thrills, why not turn to worshiping God? Why not turn to doing good for others? Why not pause and meditate on the goodness and the miracles of God? Why not listen to a train going down a track in the early morning hours? Why not listen to the sad song of a whippoorwill or a cry of a mourning dove or the cheery chatter of mockingbirds? Why not look at the stars or the clear blue skies or the rain on a dark day and realize we can hold on to this Earth only through a miracle of our Creator?

Are We Doing What Jesus Tells Us?

Mary’s last recorded words in scripture were to the servants at the wedding in Cana in Galilee. She told them. “Do whatever he (Jesus) tells you.” John 2:5 (NLT) Sometimes, we pray for answers yet we are not willing to do what Jesus tells us. In this case, the wine was running low at the wedding and Jesus told the servants to fill six stone water jars used for ceremonial washing that could hold up to 30 gallons, with water. I’m almost certain that inside they were questioning His command, maybe even His sanity.

When we ask for healing, do we do what God wants us to do?

Namaan had to wash in the muddy Jordan River seven times. When the children of Israel went to defeat Jericho, they had to march around the walls seven times and blow their trumpets for the walls to fall down.

When we ask for forgiveness, are we really willing to do what He commands? Jesus told the woman caught in adultery to “go and sin no more.” He didn’t tell her to return to the same life she was living.

We are saved by grace, but grace does not come cheap. Christ paid a heavy price when He died on the Cross. Shouldn’t we be willing to pay the price and try to change our lives?

When you pray, do you listen to what Jesus wants? Are you willing to fill six water jars with water? Are you willing to take a bath in a muddy river? Are you willing to walk seven times around Jericho? Are you willing to go and sin no more? Do we listen and do we heed Mary’s last recorded words, “Do whatever He (Jesus — not Mary, not your best friend, not your peers who are pressuring you) tells you?”

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In The Desert, Begging to Die

One victory won, another crisis awaits, as I sit under a tree in the desert like Elijah, begging God to be merciful and let me die. But, like with Elijah, God shows me that His mercy is much greater than my plea. He beckons me to look at my heart and at my life.

How many times have I been given victory and failed to give the Lord credit?

If I had only done it once, that was one time too many.

How many times have I let anger and regret turn into self-pity and self-loathing and sat in the valley of humdrums singing the heartrending song of the mullygrubs?
How many times have I felt tempted to believe that others could not make it if not for me?

God calls me to get up and go face the next battle with the prophets of Baal, but not to rely on my strength, only on God’s power. He shows that others are fighting the same battles and He calls me to go and return on my way (I Kings 19:15), to “Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, whereunto thou art also called, and hast professed a good profession before many witnesses,” (1 Timothy 6:12) because if I cast my cares on Him and live righteously, he will never let me fail. (Psalm 55:12)

Silhouette

My family is emblazoned in a silhouette somewhere in the shadows of my mind. We sit on the cattle fence looking far across a vast meadow. All of us are young, even my father and my mother, and we are dressed like the cowboys and cowgirls and dairy men and women that once we were once upon a time not so long ago.

The silhouette reminds me of the possibility that we all shall be together one day once again and that the vast domain that we gaze upon will not be on Earth, but will be in the realms of Glory. As I gaze upon the picture in the family album that is kept and treasured in my heart, I see others hopping on the fence beside us. I see nieces and nephews, other relatives, and friends, and, yes, even those who would call themselves my enemies.

It is a glorious picture I imagine and something that I would like to see one like in Heaven one day. Most of all, I want to see the face of the One who can make the silhouette of family and friends possible.

Written by Jacob Bembry, March 26, 2016