Thursday, October 13, 2016

Gifts from Aleathea

Wednesday, I traveled to Greenville, NC, going the long way to avoid many areas still flooded in the aftermath of Hurricane Michael.  I made the trip to be with my Cousin Greg and offer my tribute to a truly great Christian lady, my Aunt Aleathea Hester.  



 I’m honored to be here and to play a part in remembering and giving thanks for the life of my Aunt Aleathea Hester.  I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t in my world and a part of my life.  The family that surrounds you and supports are such a part of you that you don’t think about how much they’ve given you until they’re gone.  These past few days, since learning of her death, I’ve been thinking about my Aunt Aleathea and the wonderful gifts she’s given me.  I want to tell you about three of them today.  First, my Aunt Aleathea gave me…

A Second Home

Cousin Greg
As Greg and I were talking by phone, he said, “Ronald, you and I grew up almost like brothers.”  That was certainly true.  Almost the same age and interested in many of the same things, I spent many a day and night at Uncle Bill, Aunt Aleathea and Cousin Greg’s house.  He spent some time at my home too.  What I remember about those many visits was the wonderful hospitality I experienced every time I was in their home.  I was welcomed.  I was cared for.  I was cherished as part of their family. 

I felt as much at home with them as I did anywhere on earth.  And a great part of that was my Aunt Aleathea.  Her heart and her home were always opened to me.  She always made me feel welcomed and special.  And that never changed.  Through the years, after the Hesters moved from Greenville, SC to Greenville, NC, every time I was able to visit and be in her presence, I always felt special, I always felt her love, I was always at home. 

As I became an adult and began to see my family with more mature eyes, I received another precious gift from Aleathea,

An Example of Devotion

My Uncle Bill was a strong man and a hard worker.  You could always count on him to do what he promised and to do things right.  But in the later years of his life, his health weakened and he faced much pain and many physical problems.  He suffered with terrible back pain that no surgery or treatment could totally relieve.  As part of his Hester inheritance, he was prone to skin cancer and needed multiple surgeries to keep that disease at bay.  Hurting as much as he did for as long as he did, let’s say my Uncle Bill was never nominated for Patient of the Year.  But through all of his trials, my Aunt Aleathea was there for him, there with him, there supporting and loving him every step of the way. 

She was the same if Bill was having a good day or a very hard day.  She had that inner strength that kept her constant in her love for him, her devotion to him, and her encouragement that he could overcome his problems and tomorrow could be better than today.  She brought to life the words of Paul when he wrote,

Love is patient.  Love is kind.  Love always believes, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails. 

In a world where so many people measure their lives by convenience and personal space, my Aunt Aleathea gave us a beautiful picture of self-giving devotion and a Christian commitment to marriage.  We honor her for that today. 

These are precious gifts, but the one I treasure most is…

A Story of Saving Love

For most of my life, I had known that Aleathea had a bad back.  People would ask her about it from time to time.  She might mention it when it was particularly painful.  From my childish perspective, I just figured that it was one of those things which happens to old people when they hit their thirties.  I was sorry that she hurt, but my understanding of her pain went no further than that.

          Years later, when I was visiting my aunt and uncle, the subject of her back came up again.  But this time, as she told me of her discomfort, she asked me a ques­tion, "Do you know what happened to my back?"  I seemed to remember that she had fallen or some­thing, but this was not enough.  If I were to understand what her suf­fering was all about, there was something more I needed to know. 

          Aleathea realized that I was old enough to hear the whole truth about her pain, so she sat me down and told me this story.  When I was just an infant, she came to my home for a visit.  She had me in her arms as they walked out of our back door.  Suddenly, her feet slipped out from under her.  There was no time for thought.  There was no time for anyone else to help.  All that she could do was react.  Her love for me and her desire to protect my young life caused her to hold me up above her as she fell.  She kept her body between me and danger while her back crashed down five concrete stairs to the bottom.  Her back was permanently injured, but I was safe and sound. 

          I sat and listened to that story in amazement.  I felt a great gratitude for what she had done and had a deeper love for her because now I understood the purpose of her pain.  What had happened to her had happened for me. 

          The love Aleathea expressed that day has become for me a powerful picture of the love Jesus has for each of us, the love that led Him to the cross. 

          Jesus bore the penalty of our sin.  Isaiah was given a glimpse of the meaning of the Savior’s suffering when he wrote,

          (Isaiah 53:5a)But he was pierced for our trans­gressions, he was crushed for our iniquities...

          Just as my aunt placed her body between me and the destructive force of falling down concrete stairs, Jesus placed him­self between us and the penalty of our sin.  He was pierced by the pain of sin that would have stabbed my soul.  He was crushed by the consequenc­es of my sin which would have crushed me for time and for eternity.  He bore the penalty of my sin.  Jesus lifted us up that we might live.  Isaiah continues,

          (Isaiah 53:5a)...the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.

          Just as my aunt held me up that I might be kept alive and whole, Jesus suffered and died upon the cross in order that, through faith in him, you and I might be lifted up, to live in peace with God, to be made whole. 

          My Aunt Aleathea is in heaven right now, I truly believe, because she placed her faith in Jesus Christ, the one who lifted her up to give her eternal life. 


Where is Aleathea Hester?  She’s not in this cemetery.  She’s gone home.  And she’s alive in hearts like mine she blessed with precious gifts of love.  

Saturday, October 8, 2016

Hammering Out a Joyful Noise


Today, I played a part in celebrating the life of Richard McAbee, a member of Woodruff First Baptist Church, a church I served over twenty years ago.  I shared this story among my memories of Richard, a great discovery he made and taught me. 

In 1989 I traveled to Pineville, West Virginia, with a group of men for the purpose of building a church.  While we were there, we began each day with a time of devotion led by one of the men.  One of the first mornings of our trip, a member of our group, Richard McAbee, shared a thought which fed our souls and guided our work for the rest of the week.  Richard read the one hundredth Psalm to us, the psalm which begins,”

(Psalm 100:1) Make a joyful noise unto the LORD…

This was a scripture passage we all knew very well.  But as he shared his thoughts on that passage, he opened our eyes to a meaning fit for the moment.  Richard said,

"I have never been talented in music, so I have never sung in a choir.  I haven't been able to make the kind of joyful noise to God which some people can.  But it occurred to me as were working last night to build this church that the sounds of the hammers and the saws and the staple guns must be a joyful sound in the ears of God.  Work done to glorify God makes a joyful noise.” 

Richard's thoughts found a home in our hearts and became the theme for the rest of our week.  Every time God's people use their talents in a way which honors Him, their work is an act of worship, a holy offering, a joyful noise unto the Lord. 

Have you made a joyful noise lately?  

Note: This story is included in my book The Stories of My Life.