Carrie-Anne and I had dinner Saturday night with some of the very best people we know, some of our very best and closest friends from our time at Legacy, the first church we served in full-time congregational ministry. David and Shanna Byrnes hosted us for a massive fajita feast, and we talked and laughed together until we were too tired to keep going. We talked about kids and grandkids, weddings and jobs, and Kevin and Jill Welch’s connections to Hollywood and baseball royalty through their two daughters. We thanked God again for Shanna’s good health and cried together as we marveled over his divine goodness to us all. And then Kevin showed us how to precisely place one scoop of Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla between two of Delanie’s homemade chocolate chip cookies to form the perfect ice-cream sandwich, a delightful cap on a wonderful evening.
It was twenty years ago this summer I received that first phone call from Jerry Karels, the chairman of the preacher search committee at Legacy Church of Christ in North Richland Hills. I was standing in the driveway of Kyle and Marti Futrell’s rent house in Marble Falls, the place we were living while I completed my two-year seminary education in Austin. I was halfway through the program and, as a result of connections between Austin Grad President Stan Reid and a couple of Legacy elders, I was on Legacy’s list. Jerry and I talked about the preaching position for about 30-minutes and then he asked me to send him a resume and tapes of a couple of my sermons. I didn’t tell him at the time, but I had only preached a total of two sermons! So, I sent him the CDs and, by God’s grace, we wound up at Legacy.
Carrie-Anne and I were blessed by God and honored by Legacy to be invited back this past Sunday to help them kick off their new cycle of Small Groups. I preached to a packed house about our connections together in Christ. I joked that they should have a recall option in place in order to re-think their ordaining of Jerry Karels as an elder. And then I encouraged their small groups co-leaders at a lunch in the Legacy gym. I must admit, I experienced some PTSD as we entered the gym–I kept expecting to be smashed in the face by a Josh Dyniewski elbow.
The most important thing, though, is that I got to tell them how much they mean to us.
That Legacy church will always be special for Carrie-Anne and me. Those are the people who gave us our start in congregational ministry. They saw something in me, they believed in me, they gave me a chance at a time when I’m not sure anybody else would. Those poor people burned off years of purgatory listening to my earliest sermons! They encouraged me. They took care of my family and me. They gave me a place to learn how to be a preacher. And I’ll always love them for that.
I thank God that I got to hug Quincy DeQueemani’s neck Sunday and listen to him tell me one more time how our God is the one who killed the Amorites with hailstones. I thank God that I got to tell John Royse again how much he inspires me. I thank God that I can still see hear Paul Dennis’ booming bass voice coming from that fourth middle pew, even thought he and Jean have already fallen asleep in our Lord. I thank God that Keith Romero still laughs really loud, that Todd Robinson is still really bald, and that Polythene Pam is still doggedly pursuing our God. I thank our Lord I got to see Nancy Snelson on Sunday, the original inspiration behind Missions Month. I thank him for J Bailey, who always knows the exact right thing to say to encourage me in any given moment, and Russ Garrison, who must have said “Keep your chin up” to me about a million times back then.
I thank God that Carrie-Anne and I were able to worship Sunday next to Chris Drake, aka Rob’s Dad, aka #48. Chris told me on several occasions back then to just point out the people who were giving me trouble and he’d clear them out like Moose Johnston blocking for Emmitt Smith. As we shared the communion meal Sunday, I reminded Chris of the time he led our communion thoughts by comparing a perfect 6-4-3 double play to the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. As he headed to the parking lot after church, The Drake told me again to “keep matriculating the ball down the field.”
I thank God for every person at Legacy Sunday who had so many nice things to say to us. Sunday was truly a wonderful day for us, and I pray it was a blessing to that good church.
And Saturday night. Saturday night was heaven. A foretaste of what’s in store for us on that coming day of glory.
Peace,
Allan
Rock and Roll has lost another legend and Texas music has lost another one of its sons. Frank Beard, the steady heartbeat of ZZ Top, passed away yesterday at his ranch in Richmond at 77 years of age. A founding member of that “little ol’ band from Texas,” Frank played drums for ZZ Top for 57 years–that ZZ Top boogie don’t woogie without Frank’s shuffling beat underneath. Five years after bassist Dusty Hill’s death, guitarist and lead singer Billy Gibbons is the last man of the famed Texas trio still standing. But he’s vowing that the show will go on. After taking three days off, Gibbons says ZZ Top will perform its scheduled concerts this Friday in Eagle Pass and Saturday and Sunday in Austin, before heading to Michigan and finishing their current tour through the end of November.
Is it still ZZ Top? Or is it just a Billy Gibbons show now? I’m sure Gibbons is wanting to honor Dusty and Frank and what they all started in 1969 by continuing to play as ZZ Top. And maybe it’s a way of stating that ZZ Top is bigger than the three of them. But I’m not sure that it is. It’s not the “same three guys, same three chords” anymore.
“Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.” ~Colossians 4:2
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