I.
It all started with a dream last week,
About a friend I hadn’t seen in more than a decade,
And hadn’t talked to in six years.
Even though it had been so long
And so much life had passed us by,
I realized how important he still is to me.
My love for him and his family is as strong as ever.
And that dream made me take a look at the tapestry of my relationships
And realize somebody was missing.
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On a county road in rural Alabama, in the heart of peanut country a long time ago, a unique, once-in-a-lifetime gathering of people took place. It was about this time of year. And I happened to be there.
It was a meeting of the Royal Priests of Balkum. And I had been asked to address them.
Let me hasten to say that there wasn’t much about those in attendance that day that looked particularly royal. Priestly either, for that matter. There were some farmers, a few teachers, lots of retirees, some pastors, some homemakers, a missionary or two.
The program actually said “Henry County Baptist Association.” The sign outside said, “Balkum Baptist Church.” And I had been asked to speak on an assigned subject: the priesthood of the believer.
They didn’t hear me groan. But groan I did. The “doctrinal sermon” they called it. And this year’s doctrinal theme had become a denominational hot potato.
But duty called, and the Baptists of Henry County awaited.
And so did the Lord.
He was waiting on me to learn a priceless lesson. [click to continue…]
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