“The Ole Hometown.” Upon hearing those words, does it take you down nostalgia road? Reminding you of fond memories of days gone by or does it remind you of the friends you left behind?
Recently, I went back to my “ole hometown.” But, it wasn’t a happy occasion, as it was to attend a dear friend’s funeral. He was just an “ordinary” man. He always wore a big smile and blue overalls, with his smile continuing even after undergoing two open-heart surgeries and surgery to put in a stint. He was a natural born tradesman, and business man of many trades.” His three different restaurants were his last business ventures. He liked to play his guitar, singing some of the old hymns that had been family favorites for years.
The First Baptist Church was selected for his service as it is the largest church in town. Every pew in the three sections was filled, and also the choir loft, fellowship hall, foyer to overflowing and standing room several rows deep at the back.
It was amazing to see “the ole hometown,” plus surrounding rural communities come together in love to honor “just an ordinary man.” The churches joined together in preparation for the family dinner.
But, this man was different. He served Jesus Christ with enthusiasm and joy, and was standing in the local grocery store encouraging a former classmate about Jesus, when he drew his last breath.
Recently at a family celebration, he was videoed while sitting on the corner of the piano bench, in his overalls, playing his guitar and singing, “Lord, I Can’t Even Walk, Without You Holding My Hand.” This was played at the beginning of the service. At the close, they played his rendition of “House of Gold,” which says: I’d rather be dead in a cold dark grave, than to deny my God, and my soul not saved or live in a house of gold.” This ordinary man witnessed to 700-1,000 attending his funeral, as he had already preached his funeral in his own way of living.
I’ve wondered what memory people in my “Ole Hometown” would remember about me. I asked myself: “Am I a living witness or would my last words be a dying witness for Jesus Christ”? It’s something to think about!
Correna Wilson Pickens,
Shawnee
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“The Ole Hometown.” Upon hearing those words, does it take you down nostalgia road? Reminding you of fond memories of days gone by or does it remind you of the friends you left behind?
Recently, I went back to my “ole hometown.” But, it wasn’t a happy occasion, as it was to attend a dear friend’s funeral. He was just an “ordinary” man. He always wore a big smile and blue overalls, with his smile continuing even after undergoing two open-heart surgeries and surgery to put in a stint. He was a natural born tradesman, and business man of many trades.” His three different restaurants were his last business ventures. He liked to play his guitar, singing some of the old hymns that had been family favorites for years.
The First Baptist Church was selected for his service as it is the largest church in town. Every pew in the three sections was filled, and also the choir loft, fellowship hall, foyer to overflowing and standing room several rows deep at the back.
It was amazing to see “the ole hometown,” plus surrounding rural communities come together in love to honor “just an ordinary man.” The churches joined together in preparation for the family dinner.
But, this man was different. He served Jesus Christ with enthusiasm and joy, and was standing in the local grocery store encouraging a former classmate about Jesus, when he drew his last breath.
Recently at a family celebration, he was videoed while sitting on the corner of the piano bench, in his overalls, playing his guitar and singing, “Lord, I Can’t Even Walk, Without You Holding My Hand.” This was played at the beginning of the service. At the close, they played his rendition of “House of Gold,” which says: I’d rather be dead in a cold dark grave, than to deny my God, and my soul not saved or live in a house of gold.” This ordinary man witnessed to 700-1,000 attending his funeral, as he had already preached his funeral in his own way of living.
I’ve wondered what memory people in my “Ole Hometown” would remember about me. I asked myself: “Am I a living witness or would my last words be a dying witness for Jesus Christ”? It’s something to think about!
Correna Wilson Pickens,
Shawnee
