A FALLEN WORLD
It’s that time of year when my mind can’t help but roll back in time to the long gone days of childhood. Maybe it’s because we put the tree up yesterday. Or maybe it’s because I ponder the memories of my children and now my grandchildren here. And that fake tree is a little more broken every year… like all of us with time, I suppose. It is a fallen world after all.
The pale yellow church with the white steeple located on Ramsey had a simple white sign with black letters that read, “First Southern Baptist Church”. That’s where I was baptized and learned John 3:16. Being that it was the late sixties, and violence was alive and well in Southern California, it didn’t take long to learn that they were spot on about it being a “Fallen world”.
When you grow up in a setting like that, old hymnals become part of your roots. They get memorized as easy as John 11:35; “Jesus wept”. We learned the words to Amazing Grace and Silent Night with ease. It would be decades before we actually listened and grasped them though. Music was part of church, along with the solos.
My brothers, who were about seven and four years older than me, respectively, my sister only had a year and a half on me, had a theory, or what might be better described as a suspicion or notion. They believed that Mrs. Buchanan was on a sorta pay to sing basis.
Mrs. Buchanan was responsible for more than a couple death stares, thumps on the head, and even some whippings from our dad when we’d laugh at how poorly Mrs. Buchanan sang. My brother Bobby still swears that trying not to laugh during her solos is how he learned to speed read.
That’s when my sister and I learned that if there was any hope of not laughing during a Mrs. Buchanan solo we couldn’t even glimpse at each other. My sister squeezing her mouth so that the sides of her lips touched, trying not to laugh, made me laugh out loud, then and just now. Memories are peculiar like that.
The Buchanan’s lived on top of a mountain north of town that overlooked the entire town. They drove a blue Lincoln Continental that had electric windows. From our perspective they were rich and could very well have paid enough in tithes to get her to sing whenever she wanted. It was, after all, a fallen world.
The Buchanan’s adopted three kids, all siblings, Donald was the oldest and according to him, Mrs. Buchanan was beyond a task master. She treated them like slaves. They were responsible for the maintenance and cleaning of their mini mansion on top of the hill that overlooked the rest of us.
Mrs. Buchanan’s solos came to and end… at the hands of her adopted oldest, Donald. He shot her in the head with a shotgun…
You can’t hide that kind of stuff from kids. Even when they’re in single digit years of age. We learn early in life that this is indeed a fallen world.
This time of year isn’t special for some folks. In this fallen world children will go hungry and be abused. There will be tears for some as they endure the season we cherish. This is the season for us to try and make a difference in this fallen world. And none of us have to look too far to find those in need.
Although my kids have had a life less exposed to the harsh realities of it at a young age, they too have learned that it’s a fallen world. But they, like we did, learned that despite the fallenness of this world, we have hope.
We have hope, or what is translated as “confidence”, in the Creator of life to keep His perfect Word this Christmas season. It’s in that knowledge we celebrate His perfect Gift and look ahead to perfection… from this fallen world.
Sunday, December 8, 2019 @ 7:43 pm
I’ve seen that death state one too many times Floyd, especially while waiting in the DMV line. Oh my!
What a tragic story you tell. Yet I can’t help but think that Our Savior’s story had some tragic tales all it’s own… especially with his close call when Herod orders the killing of all the babies. Talk about the perfect timing!
Monday, December 9, 2019 @ 12:49 pm
This story stirred up my heart where a sore spot lives. My parents belonged to the VFW and Legion, my mother worked as a waitress every Friday and Sat night. My Dad spend more then she made at the bar. I have some happy memories of those places, people who loved on us, an old family friend who taught me how to two step dance. Since I belonged to the junior members we made gifts to send to the VA hospitals for the patient. As I grew older the good they did was over shadowed by the hell it brought out of my Dad’s body. That devil that lived in him came out the more he drank and by the time he got home he had lost all ability to reason with. It’s still hard for me to hear people praise those two places but God gives me grace to bear it. Most of those at those two places did not know what went on after Dad came home. Oh they knew he had a mean lying foul mouth man but no matter what happened the night before he got up and went to work, always. Just recently as I was writing some of this stuff I thought to myself there was more then just us kids and Mom that suffered from the drinking that went on at the clubs. I never wondered that as a child, our hell seemed the worst but of course it wasn’t. I have heard stories from women that makes mine sound like a fairy tale. It matters not the degree of someone suffering with our Lord, His compassion is no less for me or you or those kids you wrote about. Sometimes standing in the jungle in a remote village knowing about the incest that took place in almost every little hut the only thing that kept me calm and pleasant and loving was His incredible love for me and even my Dad. thanks brother for sharing this story which brought some perspective to my story that deepens my compassion for others. We are all a product of this fallen world. I pray every day for wisdom and the opportunity to share the love of Jesus with someone. I am heading out as soon as I post this comment, gonna be more open to hearing God’s voice when He says, talk to that one.
Monday, December 9, 2019 @ 2:10 pm
I had a Mrs. Buchanan too in my little church as a child. Those death stares; they were intense! She didn’t come to such an untimely demise as yours, but other members of the family did. 🙁 So grateful that we have hope even in (and from) this fallen world.
Tuesday, December 10, 2019 @ 3:58 am
I agree with Lisa on this one Floyd. So glad we have hope in this fallen world. I think there is a Mrs Buchanan in every church family (at least back then). We are far more discreet these days with tryouts, etc. Anyway, it was sad to hear of her death and how. But like you have pointed out, it is a fallen world. Thanks for the good lesson my friend.
Tuesday, December 10, 2019 @ 6:44 am
Your story is a reminder to me… Don’t be the Mrs. Buchanan…. As each generation makes its mark in the church… it is easy to see the damage that is done… The fallen world. I am not immune to it. I can’t deny it exists. I can only rely on the grace of God to pull me through it. If the church as a whole would model themselves simply after who Jesus is and how He lived his life while on this Earth… a much better place it would be for all…. and more inviting than any light show, performance, or program that is put on for display in an effort to draw in the masses.