Stephanie, our daughter, found an injured baby chicken who eventually laid green eggs. One day, after returning home from the grocery store, I found the chicken in the house. I had strict rules about animals in the house, but Steve enjoyed breaking them. My first husband was a bit of a rogue and very independent. He prided himself on taking care of his own life and his family with no help from outside sources. He wasn’t prone to be social unless it was a family gathering.  Steve did give his heart to the Lord in later years, but while we lived in Easley didn’t pay much attention to spiritual matters, until the spring of 1980.

It was very early on a Monday morning when Steve awoke me.  “I just had a vision. It wasn’t a dream, it was a vision and I was walking around in it.”

“Tell me about it,” I mumbled, half awake.

“I was in a place with beautiful mountains. The hills were lush and green. I saw my Grandpa Masters walking toward me.  Sylvester Sylvanus Masters was Steve’s maternal grandfather who had been dead since 1956.  He spoke to me, “Steve, there is a lady in our family who is very ill and she’s afraid. She doesn’t have much longer to live. I need for you to give her a message. Tell her everything will be alright, she doesn’t need to fear, she’s going to see Jesus.”

“Grandpa took me to a white house and a man opened the door. I went inside and there were several people there.  Grandpa Masters told me that this man would lead me to the sick lady.  Grandpa hugged me and said goodbye and that was all I saw of him. Now I’ve got to figure out who this lady is and how to find her. I’ve been made a messenger for God.”

This was pretty amazing to hear when I first woke up. I asked him if I could help but he said, “No, I’m going to see if my cousin Weldon knows if anyone is sick in the family.”  Weldon Masters worked for Duke Power out of the Liberty, SC office.

Steve later recounted his conversation with Weldon. “I called him first thing when I got to the office. I asked him if anyone in the family was on the verge of dying. He said he didn’t know, but would call his mother.”

Later that night Weldon called. “Steve, it seems there’s a lady in the family, a Christine Riggins, who is a cousin of ours. She has a serious heart condition and on her deathbed at Greenville Hospital.”

“Thanks Weldon…Steve paused. Do you know if she has a pastor?”

“Yes she does, I have an aunt who keeps up with family better than I do, I think I wrote down the name of the church, Praters Creek Baptist. After he gave Steve the name, Steve hesitated, “Weldon, do you believe in visions and God?” Weldon replied, “I believe in God and I’m sure he can send a vision.”

Steve told him the details of the vision. Weldon wished him well in his search and asked Steve to let him know the outcome.

Steve called the pastor of Christine’s church and made an appointment. Steve got the impression that the pastor didn’t think Steve was mentally stable. Later,  he shared the details of  his road trip and his conversation with the pastor:

“After I turned off the highway, I turned on the road to the pastor’s house. The road and his house were exactly like the one I saw in the vision. I knew the man that opened the door because that was where Grandpa Masters had left me in the vision.  The pastor led me into his house and we talked. I asked if he had a member named Christine Riggins. He said, yes, but that she wasn’t a member, but her husband, Luther, was.

“Christine hasn’t been to church in a long while. She’s been ill since the mid-50′s with a heart condition. When I have visited her I’ve noticed her Bible that’s very well worn from use.”

“Pastor, you may think I’m crazy, but I have a message from the Lord and my Grandpa Masters for her. Could you take me to see her?”

“Yes, let me call Luther and see if we can go to his house to talk with him, if he isn’t at the hospital.”

After the pastor called, he and Steve rode over to see Mr. Riggins. When Steve explained why he was there and the vision, he wept. “We have been praying for a miracle in this community. There is so much sickness and depression. This is that promise of eternity and encouragement we all needed.”

Steve felt so strongly about his part in this that he made a recording about the entire event. That recording is one of only two audios of his voice that we still have.

He remarked at the end of the recorded message. “I’m glad that God saw fit to make me a part of the message that needed to get to this lady. I hope, if I ever have to take a message to someone else that he will fit me in better clothing to be His messenger.”

That spring of 1980, Steve didn’t know what the years ahead would bring him, but he was about to take on the clothing of an eleven year journey that none of us would have ever envisioned, or wanted, for him.

Ann and Steve Massey Circa 1980 at a friend’s wedding

Stephanie held her brother’s packages close to him.  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”  “It’ll be hours before they’re home,” she tempted.  Carefully, they unwrapped each package bearing their names, tried them on, and just as carefully returned them to their neat wrappings.  They shared a secret and promised not to tell.  Christmas arrived and each child wore a mask of surprise when the gifts were shared. Later, they both suffered from an attack of a guilty conscience and came clean!

How often have we taken our blessings out of the box before God’s perfect timing?  A young couple marries in haste.  Poor decisions leave a family on the edge of bankruptcy.  Our headlong rush into life destroys the path our Creator has mapped for us.  Listen for the rhythm of God’s timing.  He sent us the gift of salvation.  Have you unwrapped yours yet?  You don’t have to keep it a secret.

   Wait for the Lord;

   Be strong and let your heart take courage;

   Yes, wait for the Lord.

Psalm 27:14

“If it’s a girl, we’ll name her Joy, if it’s a boy we’ll name him Stephen, but I like the name Faith for a girl, we really don’t know yet, Mom.”  My daughter’s voice reflected the dilemma of new parents, what do we name the baby?  She didn’t want to know its gender, but my son-in-law found out and leaked the news to me.  I knew the baby would be Stephen, but my lips were sealed.

We’re left to imagine whether Joseph told any of his relatives about his encounter with an angel before the birth of Jesus. He had so many of his own doubts at first, I imagine he kept quiet.  His extended family might have asked, “Why are you calling Him Jesus?  Whose side of the family are you naming Him after?” Picture their surprise to have the Messiah within their own family tree. The awe and wonder of raising the Savior of heaven and earth surely surrounded Mary and Joseph.

What then shall we call this Child?  He will be called Immanuel, “God with us,” a name for all sides of earth’s family.

Jesus, Name above all names!

Beautiful Savior, glorious Lord!

Immanuel, God is with us!

Blessed Redeemer, Living Word!

–Naida Hearn

1974

Then there was the Joseph problem.  Being Mary’s husband and a father to Baby Jesus wasn’t cool. There were no boys who would audition to be Joseph, every year it was a forced march to the cradle.

“I don’t want to be all “lovey” to Mary and guard a baby,” my friend Keith whined to his mother. “Keith, you’re big and strong like a husband, you have to be Joseph or we can’t have a pageant,” his mother’s voice grew louder. Surrounded by his Sunday School teacher and his mother, Keith surrendered to his fate. “I wish Joseph had just walked away from all this,” he muttered.

Joseph considered leaving, just as our own flesh fights God’s will for our lives. Joseph’s faith brought him to the manger and Keith did a great job as Mary’s husband.

Are we ready to audition to be a Joseph or Mary?

 “See Him in a manger laid

Whom the angels praise above;

Mary, Joseph, lend your aid,

While we raise our hearts in love.”

My Childhood Church Calvary Moravian

Long ago, the journey of a young couple took them on a dusty road.  They didn’t travel by automobile and there were no stores to buy clothes for their newborn baby. There were no gas stations because their donkey ran on hay and water. Obediently, they trusted God’s direction without a global positioning system.

Unlike the world of Mary and Joseph, our televisions scream at us to buy everything. If we over spend, financial pressure mounts. The God who offered guidance long ago on a road in the Middle East is still ready to lead us to make wise decisions.

I grew up Moravian. It’s a small denomination, much like Methodist with Lutheran variations. The customs and traditions are unique, but the message of God to us is the same. Seek Him through faith, love, and trust.

The meaning of Christmas isn’t in the items we buy. Christmas is a hug and a gift of time spent with a lonely person. A holiday season showing others the love of Our Heavenly Father is the best gift of all.

PRAYER FOCUS

People in need of companionship during the Christmas season

211 words

Christmas Thoughts

Come away to a manger bare,

A soul finds its peace there.

In this hour of Christmas stress,

Show me how to love you best.

Move toxic fumes of earth away,

Show me the Christ Child every day.

Variations of the Moravian Blessing are brought to you by Our Heavenly Father, I am taking dictation from Him today:

The Moravian Blessing is:

“Come Lord Jesus, Our guest to be

And bless these gifts bestowed by Thee,

Bless our loved ones everywhere, and

Keep them in Thy loving care.”  Amen.

Come new Jesus,

Our visitor to be,

Adorn our homes

With love from Thee.

Protect our people everywhere,

Show lost souls hope,

And howYou care.

Amen.

Come Lord Jesus,

Our hearts to see,

Make our souls a light for Thee.

Guard our country,

Mend war’s strife,

Bring us hope from sin’s dark night.

Amen

-

“Some people enjoy poor health and that’s why they stay sick.  It’s the attitude “Dahlink,” the attitude!” She loved to dabble in a German accent for fun.  She was nearing seventy when I married her middle child, Steve. My own mother died when I was a teenager.  “Mama B.B.” and I were friends from the beginning.; that relationship grew into her being my surrogate mother.

My late husband and I surprised her with two grandchildren after her other four grands were “middlin’ size.” My children followed her every step during our years on the home farm in Easley. We nicknamed her “Mother Earth”.  What a faith walk it was!  She planted by the almanac and lived by the Bible.

“God always says He’ll walk before us, I have to believe that in order to make it every day. Dahlink, just take what comes and know that the good Lord is kickin’ in the doors ahead of you. If it’s locked, he’ll break open a window. You might have to wait awhile, but prayin’ and waitin’ go hand and hand anyway.”

Our walks through the countryside and talks on the telephone yielded sage advice.  It still rings true today. Some of her morsels were:

• You have to make a wide swath around an ill man.
• Don’t brood about the ill man; find a hobby or some service to God and your fellow man. Weave that life around your home and you’ll be happier.
• Take as little medicine as you can, doctors have an important place in the world, but God made the natural stuff, like herbs and roots. Don’t put all your faith in medicine; be sure God gets the biggest dose of a strong faith.
• Go to church as often as you can. She took her own advice and walked a mile to her neighborhood church. When the church van driver offered her a ride, she told him, “Thanks, but I like to walk and pray at the same time.”

On one of our walks she declared, “I walked as a school girl so why should I stop now?”  Her theories of natural medicine and exercise were later validated—she lived to be 93.

When we have a family gathering, one of those that makes everybody reminisce about folks who are no longer with us, we’ll feel her strength and that of her middle child. Mama B.B and Steve are only a small window away. We can’t break it open, but they are with us in spirit. Memories of them somehow have a heartbeat of their own.

There has to be a funny guardian angel in heaven with a South Carolina dialect (spiced with German). I can hear Mama B.B. saying, “My Dahlink, you’re surrounded.”

1. Moravian, I hear you asking, what is that? Go to http://www.moravian.org/ for an explanation of the Moravian Church in North America.
2. Presbyterian
3. Wesleyan
4. Evangelical Lutheran
5. Missouri Synod Lutheran
6. Southern Baptist

My father’s lineage was Moravian from the time I remember anything. Daddy’s faith origins reached into the Baptist Church and a preacher named Ernest. Daddy got his start in Greenville, North Carolina–Preacher Ernest’s neighborhood.  My dad’s given name at birth was Ernest Bruce.  Preacher Ernest proclaimed hell fire and brimstone from the pulpit.

When my dad and his brother played baseball games with tree limbs and rocks near his house, Preacher Ernest spewed warnings of damnation and eternity in a heated environment from his front porch and chased my dad and his brother all the way home. After one such incident, my dad, with all six years of wisdom, stomped into my grandparents’ house and yelled,

“I hate Preacher Ernest and I’m not going to be called by his name, from now on I’m Andrew Bruce Lewis, Jr.” When the word hate was mentioned, I’m sure my sainted grandmother started to pray for her second born with fervor. Her prayers worked; he was baptized in a Baptist church at the age of ten.  My grandparents didn’t choose Preacher Ernest to perform the immersion lest they not see their young son arise from the baptismal waters.  Later, when the family moved to Winston-Salem, they began a kinship with the Moravian denomination now in its fourth generation.  My late Uncle Henry, celebrated sixty years of service as a Moravian pastor before his death in August, 2010.

A church and its denomination are a small part of my story.  I had parents and grandparents who lived their faith in front of me. They weren’t pious, but honest and hardworking, with a love for the Lord shown in how they treated people. Their love for a small brick church, and the people inside of it was found on 600 Holly Avenue in Winston-Salem, NC.

My mother’s mother was a Methodist church girl.  Stella Franklin had a determined faith in God that persisted in trials.  She prayed and searched her Bible, until seemingly impossible tasks were conquered.

When she became too disabled to walk into the plant her supervisor assumed she would be ready for her unemployment checks and possibly welfare. “Welfare isn’t for me, I want my looping machine put in my house.”

“But, we’ve never done that Stella,” her supervisor declared.

“Well, it’s time you started and I’ll just go see your boss about it.” My grandmother was among the first workers in Hanes Mill history to work in her home. If someone told her no about anything when her gut instinct said yes, she climbed the ladder of persistence until a wrong was righted. She believed in moving mountains with determination and faith in God. She ran a boarding house, worked in a mill, and raised three children in depression era economics.  We knew not to whimper and complain around her.  A positive attitude was her only workable solution to any problem.

When I consider obstacles in my path, my family’s foundation of faith, and the prayers of church family and friends have enabled me to turn obstacles into object lessons for my own grandchildren—a cake worth blending for the next