The Journey - Winter 2013

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The Journey This magazine is intended to present people’s stories about their personal relationships with God. Though we endeavor to have a diversity of view-points represented in our stories, sometimes we don’t achieve that. However, we always endeavor to let people tell their stories, uncut, as is. Because of this, it stands to reason that we are not always able to personally endorse all that is said, nor can we be held responsible for the total veracity of every story. The common denominator is that the people who share have experienced God’s love in real ways. The encouragement that we want for you is that you, too, can experience His love in whatever challenges you face.

Ben Cox Owner Publisher/Editor Charles Bateman Project Manager Becky Zaragoza Graphic Designer Sarah Lynn Mills Office Manager

Mark Burwinkel Sales Katie Hodges Web Content Manager Kelly Goodman Freelance Writer

Kim Furches Freelance Writer

The Journey

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The Journey

14

Welcome to The Journey

p. 9

A Time to Every Purpose Under Heaven

p. 10

Life, Love, and Wine To Water

p. 14

Riding with Purpose

p. 18

Train Up a Child

p. 22

My Father

p. 26

Memories From An Old Preacher's Kid

p. 28

Part of Me

p. 30

Miracles

p. 32

More

p. 34

Nella's Native

p. 36

Don't Be Derailed From Fulfilling Your Purpose

p. 38

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Cover Photo of the The Hendley Family at Grandfather Vineyard and Winery taken by Becky Zaragoza.

The Journey Magazine c Copyright 2013 O

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The Journey

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Welcome to Our Holiday Edition of

The Journey You can tell from this picture that I work with a bunch of nuts. You can also tell by my stupid pose that I’m overjoyed to have such great people to work with.

Before I tell you about this edition of The Journey, let me introduce you to the folks in this picture. Standing from left to right are Mark Burwinkel, with the company one year, Sarah Lynn Mills, with the company seven months (you’ll learn more about Sarah Lynn in a story she wrote about herself, and then another about her dad), Becky Zaragoza, with the company the longest, (besides me), at six years, Katie Hodges, our newest employee, with the company three months, Charles Bateman, with the company four and a half years, and then there’s me, with the company for over twelve years, and owner since 2007. I am truly grateful for these employees, two more part timers: my wife and my daughter, our freelance writers for this edition of The Journey: Kelly Goodman and Kim Furches, and our college interns.

As we compiled the stories for this edition, we began to notice that several of them had a common theme: PURPOSE. Therefore, when you read these stories, I believe you will be inspired and encouraged to consider your own purpose in life, and how you can make this world a better place.

Recently, I read a book entitled Quiet Strength by Tony Dungy. Tony is currently a football analyst with NBC. However, his biggest claim to fame has been as an NFL football coach, and as the first African-American head coach to win the Super Bowl, with the 2006 season champion Indianapolis Colts.

In his book, Dungy says a lot about purpose in life. I have chosen to quote a passage from pp. 143-144, because it applies directly to some of the stories you are about to read.

...God gives each one of us unique gifts, abilities, and passions. How well we use those qualities to have an impact on the world around us determines how “successful” we really are.

If we get caught up in chasing what the world defines as success, we can use our time and talent to do some great things. We might even become famous. But in the end, what will it mean?

What will people remember us for? Are other people’s lives better because we lived? Did we make a difference? Did we use to the fullest the gifts and abilities God gave us? Did we give our best effort, and did we do it for the right reasons? (Quiet Strength, Tony Dungy, p. 143) I believe you’re about to read some stories of people who are making a difference in our community because they’ve considered how their lives can be a blessing to others.

Ben Cox, Owner of Main Street Marketing & High Country 365

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A Time to Every Purpose Under Heaven Looking back on my life, it has become crystal clear to me that every one of us is here for a reason. When I was young, I didn’t realize that God was molding me and preparing me for a journey filled with things I’d only heard about or seen on television.

was. I went to talk to Corky Miller, who is now known as a legendary sheriff in these parts. Corky hired me. I served the sheriff’s department for 20 years, attaining the rank of lieutenant.

I was drafted into the army in 1969. I served with the 260th Military Police company in South Korea. After my time was up, I came home to West Jefferson, North Carolina. While I was home, I met a beautiful girl named Mary.

A position for chief of WJPD opened up, and the town asked me to take that job. At first I turned it down, but after talking it over with my wife and praying about it, I decided to take the job. I served as chief of police for 8 years. I had a great experience there, and got along well with the WJPD staff and the city manager. It was a great season.

After meeting Mary, there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to make her my wife. During our courtship, I heard about a job opening at the West Jefferson Police Department. Since I had some law enforcement training in the military, I decided to apply for the job, and I got it. I was the youngest officer ever hired in West Jefferson.

Mary and I were wed on June 30, 1972. I started working with the WJPD on July 4th. I worked my way through the ranks and became captain. I enjoyed working at the police department, but I had a desire to serve at the sheriff’s department, where all of the action

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Even though I thoroughly enjoyed being chief, I always felt that someday I would be sheriff. I had a good relationship with the people. I’ve never been the type of guy to try to act superior to anyone. I’ve always been a regular guy, and I think that’s why I get along so well with others.

I was having trouble deciding whether or not I should take the step of becoming sheriff. I was in church one Sunday and my pastor, John Elledge, preached a sermon about God’s plan that everyone is here to fulfill a purpose. I felt like he was preaching right to me, and from

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that moment on, I knew that I was going to run for sheriff.

I had 30 years of law enforcement in, so the timing was perfect. I retired in December of 2005 and filed to run for sheriff. I was elected sheriff in 2006, and in 2010, I was the first sheriff in the history of Ashe County to run unopposed.

I’ve never considered my job to be political. I have over a hundred employees, and their political affiliations do not concern me. I look for people who are going to do their job and serve this county to the best of their abilities. So far, it’s been a good run.

This road that God has placed me on hasn’t been an easy one. I was shot once, in 1974. The bullet shot straight through my shoulder without hitting bone or arteries. It should have killed me. The bullet miraculously escaped bone and tissue, and I survived. I know that God was protecting me because I was supposed to be sheriff.

Probably the scariest experience, and the closest I’ve ever come to death, was when I was in a helicopter crash back in 1986. It was a beautiful clear day in July. My friend Bob Kennedy, who worked for the Boone Police Department, and I were doing drug eradication flights, looking for marijuana and such. We were heading back from the southern end of the county to the airport to refuel. When we were getting ready to fly over the ridge, all at once the engine quit. We were right over West Jefferson, and all we could see was asphalt, power lines, concrete, and buildings!

There was nowhere to go. Immediately, we started looking for a place to land that helicopter. I could see a big roof on top of a warehouse, and I told Bob to land there, but he said, “We can’t make it that far!” We finally picked out a gravel parking lot on a back street. That was our goal: to get to that parking lot, do an auto rotation and set the chopper down, and survive.

We never made it to the gravel parking lot. When we got closer, we saw big power lines that we couldn’t see when we started, so we had to use what little speed we had to flare the chopper over the power lines. We couldn’t have missed them by five inches!

After we lost speed, the chopper took a dive straight into the roof of a brick building with a flat roof. We crashed.

The only way to describe how it felt was that the chopper just stopped, and it felt like someone threw a building at me. The impact was loud and horrific. Bob and I were injured, in pain, and we could smell fuel, but we were alive! God had a reason to spare our lives. Once again, I cheated death, and I knew that it was God looking over me and protecting me, because you just don’t walk away from those kinds of things and survive.

No two days have been alike, and despite the wrecks, high speed chases, domestic disputes, and other dangerous events that have

taken place, here I am as sheriff, doing the job that God intended for me to do.

Once while I was running for sheriff, a lady came up to me and said that I had saved her life. She reminded me of a time when her boyfriend was beating her and threatening to kill her. I got her out of a dim-lit trailer that reeked of alcohol. I told her to never go back there again, or her boyfriend would kill her. She said she took my advice and never went back, and it’s a good thing, because later, her ex-boyfriend killed his next girlfriend and himself. It’s moments like that that make the bad moments worthwhile.

Looking back, would I do it all over again? Yes, I would. I believe that God put me here to fulfill this job. That being said, I consider it an honor to serve my county.

Everyone has a purpose, and just like I tell my two precious grandsons, “You are here for a reason. If you’re not sure where God wants you to be, just listen to your heart. I can’t promise you that your road will be easy, but if you’re on God’s road, I promise you that it will be worthwhile.”

James Williams, Ashe County Sheriff Written by Kelly Goodman

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The Journey

Life, Love, and Wine to Water I was born and raised in Boone, NC, to Vanessa Minton and Gary Waters. I have a sister, Wendy, who is two years older than me. Wendy made my childhood years the best. We still laugh and cry sometimes whenever we reflect on the many memories that we’ve shared together.

My parents made sure that Wendy and I were in church most every Sunday, especially Mom. There were many times that I just wanted to bury my head back under the covers and sleep in, but Mom would flip my light switch on and give firm, yet tender, orders to get movin’! I’m glad that Mom always set a good example.

In my spare time, I would dance. I come from a long line of talented dancers and performers. Dance was instilled in me from the time I was old enough to balance myself on a coffee table. On any given day, if you were to show up at our house, you would likely hear my boom box blaring “Mountain Music” by Alabama, and the clickity-clack sound of my clogging shoes tapping as fast as legs would allow.

There was no doubt in my mind that one day I would end up teaching dance, and that’s exactly what I did.

Dancing became my ministry. For me, dancing is medicinal. You can kind of lose yourself in it and drift away. It’s a knee-slapping, endorphin-flowing, 100% natural bliss!

When I wasn’t dreaming of dancing, I would often dream of and envision my “perfect guy.” He had to love music, play the guitar, ride a motorcycle, be athletic, and, of course, love the Lord. Ever since I was little, this is the guy that I imagined would one day sweep me off of my feet.

When I was 16 years old, I was roller skating with my friends and noticed this really cute guy with a great smile. When his piercing blue eyes met mine, a strange feeling came over me. Little did I know at the time that I was staring at the face of the man who would change my world forever.

I never thought that I would run into this guy again, but five years later, I was at a local hot spot with some of my girlfriends when I turned around and locked eyes with what looked to be the same guy, only much more mature and devastatingly handsome. Crazy how a boy can change in five years. My heart was beating wildly and I had a lump in my throat as he approached me. He had this sort of cowboy, rebel look and I was totally digging it! He said, “You’re Amber Waters, aren’t you?” I was shocked that he remembered my name. I hadn’t seen him since I was a sophomore in high school, popping bubble gum and backwards skating to some Dixie Chicks song.

This guy was Doc Hendley, a former bartender who was starting a non-profit organization to provide

clean drinking water around the world. After talking with him for a few hours, I felt like I’d known him my entire life. When he shared his love for the Lord, his passion for people, music, and sports, I know that I could not hide my giddy expression. It was literally lighting bolts and fireworks! He informed me that over 1 billion people on the planet lack access to clean drinking water, and he was determined to do something about it. That is why I fell in love with this man.

I was living in Charlotte at the time, and after I left my friends and family in Boone to go back to home, I could barely concentrate because my every thought returned to Doc. I mustered up the nerve to call him. He asked me what I was doing and I said that I was moving back to Boone, even though I had no intention of moving back to Boone until that very moment.

Nothing could stop me. I packed my bags, and within two days I was back in Boone. Doc and I started spending as much time together as possible. I was simply in awe of his compassion and tenderness. To say I was smitten would be an understatement.

After a few months, which seemed like years, he asked me to be his wife. It’s hard to describe the rush of emotion that I felt in that moment. I said yes as tears of joy smeared my makeup.

Ironically, Doc proposed to me at the very place where we first met. Yes, he proposed to me at Skate World in Vilas, NC. My dance girls had won a competition, so we treated them to a night of skating and pizza. The owners of the skating rink called all of my dancers to the center of the rink, under the disco ball, and announced their championship. Then, over the squeaky intercom, they announced that there was one more announcement to be made... It takes a real man to get down on one knee and propose to his lady in front of 20 ecstatic little girls, and that’s exactly what Doc did!

I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. My dancers and their parents are, and always will be, the center of my universe, next to God, and my family, of course. My dancing kids and their parents keep me going through the good times and the bad.

Doc and I married in July of 2006. I couldn’t be any happier. At the time, Doc was working for my stepfather, Daniel Minton. It was a good job, but I could tell that Doc’s heart wasn’t in it. He longed to be back in Sudan building and repairing wells for families that desperately needed clean drinking water. Being behind a desk wasn’t for Doc, and I knew it.

One night I could tell that something was bothering Doc, and I knew exactly what it was.

“Look!” I said firmly. “I understand why you are working with my stepdad selling insurance, and why you still play music. l know that you are just trying to provide for me, because apparently that’s what a husband is supposed to do. But you need to know something... I didn’t marry an insurance salesman. I didn’t marry a bartender or a bar singer. I married a man I met at the local pub, who had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and was trying to fix his problems.”

I assured Doc that I had a good job with enough to pay the bills, and that being a good husband wasn’t about providing money. I told him that it was about being the man that he was supposed to be. I encouraged him to pursue Wine to Water, and told him that I would be behind him every step of the way, even if I had to work a full-time job for the rest of my life. (Wine to water is a humanitarian organization, founded by Doc, that digs wells in third world countries for people who don’t have clean drinking water.)

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Things fell perfectly into place with Wine to Water.

God provided a building and some sponsors, and it grew like a grape vine. I knew that I was doing the right thing to encourage my husband to follow his dream and help save the lives of many, but I also knew that I was going to miss having him by my side. The nights would become lonely, and his side of the bed, cold.

When I dropped Doc off at Charlotte-Douglas airport for his first trip away from me, I kissed him and told him that I was proud of him. He was going back to Darfur, Sudan where he’d been shot at and witnessed unspeakable violence. He cheated death more than once, but his need to help the people outweighed any of his fears. I tried to be strong for Doc, but I burst into tears as soon as I saw that dingy white plane detach from the terminal and roll away.

It was all bittersweet. I knew that Doc was where the Lord wanted him to be, but that didn’t stop my heart from aching or the tears that saturated my pillow at night. Not only was this my first experience away from Doc, but we’d also miscarried a baby a couple of weeks before he left. I was so depressed. I started living for our emails and occasional phone calls, but there wasn’t much cell phone service in the desert.

Through Doc’s emails he would encourage me by saying that he couldn’t work to the best of his ability without my support. With time, things became a little easier to endure, but I still felt a lot like a military wife with Doc being gone a lot of the time, serving others.

Wine to Water has really grown and so has my marriage with Doc. We have two healthy boys now, and I couldn’t ask for a better husband or father. When Doc is home we are usually fishing with the boys, playing baseball in the yard, or simply snuggled together on the couch enjoying football or a good fight on TV. Every time Doc goes back to a dangerous country, I can’t help but fear for his safety. When that anxiety settles in, I remind myself that there’s no safer place for Doc to be than where the Lord wants him. Whenever I feel sad, I think about how Wine to Water is making a difference.

Doc is my constant reminder that ordinary people can make a difference if they are passionate about what they do.

Doc inspires me. I’m passionate about my dance ministry, and even though my ministry is on a smaller scale than Doc’s water ministry, my husband reminds me that I’m making a difference in the lives of the dancers that come to the High Country Dance Studio.

The girls and boys that dance with me feel like the studio is their home away from home. It’s a safe haven for them. When kids are engaged in something that they love, they are less likely to find themselves in trouble with drugs and such.

The relationships that have been formed in the studio will last a lifetime. I’ve seen girls that are shy, and have little to no friends at school, come to the studio and flourish. When these kids hit the dance floor, they come alive. It’s an indescribable feeling to watch these kids grow and see their confidence soar.

God knows that this dance ministry is as therapeutic for me as it is for my clientele. When Doc is gone, I lose myself in my dance world, while he is on the other side of the world. God is so good. The Lord continues to grow the High Country Dance Studio and Wine to Water.

Every day is a winding road, and since I met Doc, life has been an interesting journey. CNN recently filmed an hour long documentary about Wine to Water and our lifestyle. They traveled with Doc around the world and they came to our home here in Boone to interview us up close and personal. The documentary is scheduled to air in December.

I love my life with Doc. Even though at times we are separated by many oceans, our souls are knitted together with love. Like fine wine, our marriage just keeps getting better with time. Saying all of this, however, Doc and I are fully aware that no marriage is perfect and no marriage is exempt from corruption. Like perfecting a dance move, marriage takes work. We have to pour into our marriage to keep it alive, or it can run dry like a well.

I thank God for the many blessings he has bestowed upon our family.

Without our faith, we never would have come this far. Doc will continue building wells, and I will keep on dancing. Hopefully, by example, our children and their children will learn this... keep moving, stay passionate, give generously, and never, ever underestimate what the good Lord can do with a willing heart.

Amber Hendley, Boone Written by Kelly Goodman

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Riding with Purpose M

y relationship with the Christian Motorcycle Association (CMA) started approximately 5 years ago. I’ve always loved motorcycles and have ridden them on and off for most of my life. When my kids, Josh and Sheena, were young, my wife Gwen and I were moving back and forth from Florida, and we rode some there, and some here in Boone. Both Gwen and I enjoyed riding, but when our kids reached the age where they were actively involved with sports, activities, dances and such, Gwen and I realized that they needed all of our focus, so we sold the motorcycle.

Those years with the kids flew by. It seems like just yesterday that Gwen was packing sandwiches shaped like dinosaurs & hearts, Sheena was having sleepovers, and Josh was playing sports. Now Sheena lives in Asheville, NC and is captain of a roller derby team. Josh has two beautiful kids of his own, a boy and a girl. Nothing melts my heart more than to hear those grandchildren call me “G-daddy.”

It had been twenty years since I rode a motorcycle. One sunny afternoon, my good friend and co-worker, Danny Critcher, asked me if I wanted to take his motorcycle for a spin.

My wife jokingly says that I should have never taken that ride, because that’s where it all began. My life would never be the same. I got “the fever” to ride again! I took the plunge and went out and bought a Harley, but little did I know at the time that God was going to use my love for riding to advance His kingdom.

Danny Critcher and Kris Fowler were very influential in my decision to join the Christian Motorcycle Association. Soon after I joined the CMA, the Road Captain began to have some personal problems and decided that he could no longer serve in the CMA, so I was asked to be the Road Captain.

The next year, I was asked to be the Chaplain for our local chapter. I really enjoyed that. Not long after, the CMA state leadership asked me to be a Prayer Warrior for the chapter, to help take care of prayer requests all across the state. Even more recently, the state leadership asked me to be the State Prayer Coordinator/Chaplain for State Leadership.

The CMA has allowed me to go in to places, because of a motorcycle and a black leather vest, that otherwise I would not be able to enter. The CMA has done such a great work, not only in the United States, but internationally. Their ministry is incredible. I feel truly honored to be a part of it.

There are hundreds of CMA chapters across the United States. As prayer coordinator, I take in prayer requests from all over the country. Daytona Beach, Florida has a big bike week every year. The Prayer Coordinator from that state will call me up and say, “Hey, we’ve got a big bike week coming up, and we really need to cover this event in prayer.” I’ll pass that prayer request out to all the Prayer Warriors across the state, and then we’ll begin praying. The prayers can be felt.

About two years ago, I began praying the Prayer of Jabez, which is found in I Chronicles 4:10. Here’s what it says: O that you would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, that your hand would be with me, and that you would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain (NKJV). That’s when all the CMA stuff started happening, and I really knew that God was the One calling me and placing me in the CMA. I told the Lord right then that if He would open doors of opportunity, we would walk through them together, and I would go wherever he led me.

God has really opened some doors. I told God at one point, not so long ago, that if he would open a door for a certain club, that I would be willing to go to that clubhouse and share the truth. God opened that door. I was able to stand in the midst of that clubhouse and share God’s truth without fear.

All throughout the Old Testament, God told His people not to fear. He told Gideon, He told Moses, He told Joshua, He told David and all of His kings, “I am with you.” He told them to have peace and not to fear. I feel that peace. I have to admit that I have found myself in the midst of a few uncomfortable situations (with some of the bigger clubs) where I should have absolutely been fearful, but the living God that I serve removed every ounce of fear and replaced it with confidence.

I have the opportunity to work at all kinds of rallies. Through these events I’ve been able to minister to so many. The back patch that I wear is respected, probably due to the fact that the

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CMA takes a neutral position. I’m proud to wear my patch. There’s a saying... “If it’s not in your heart, don’t wear it on your back. If you’re not willing to live it, breathe it, and die for it, don’t wear it.”

Once, in Rockingham, NC, a guy let a word fly that he shouldn’t have, and he apologized to me for it. He respected me because of my back patch, and that means a lot. When these guys see our CMA patch, they feel safe. Because of my motorcycle and vest, I can walk right up to most bikers and start a conversation.

It’s almost as if my patch serves as a master-key to doors that would otherwise be locked.

In my ministry, I often think of the story of Elijah. Elijah met with the prophets of Baal -- 450 against 1. That’s stacking the odds against God. The prophets of Baal called, they screamed, they yelled, and they even cut themselves, but the Bible is very clear that there was no answer, no voice, there was nothing, but when Elijah called, everything changed! Right before Elijah prayed to the Lord, he said, “Why do you stand here between two decisions? If God is the Lord, then serve Him.” Jesus said in John 14:6, “I am the way, the truth, and the life, no man comes to the Father but through me.” In Acts 4:12 it says: “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name in Heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.” That is one of my favorite verses. I know that I’m serving a living God. That’s what gives me courage, that’s what gives me strength. It gives me the ability not to be afraid and to march onward.

I heard a story once that rocked my world. A guy from one of the big national motorcycle clubs shared his story with me. He had been away from home for a while, and decided to ride home from Southern California to Louisiana, to where his home was. When he got home, he went to a little Baptist church with his mother. While he was in church the Lord began to do a work in his heart, and he was under conviction, and he knew that he needed to do something. After church, they were standing outside and he was talking to some folks that he hadn’t seen in a while, and one of the deacons in that church came up to him and said, “We don’t want your kind here.” It crushed this guy, and made him mad. He left that place, rode all the way back to California, and it was two years before somebody led him to Christ. Now he is back in North Carolina, in the ministry! He has given his life totally to Christ. He said, “I’m going to minister to the people that the church doesn’t want.”

When he told me that story, it totally rang my bell! It spoke to me in volumes, because a lot of hard-core bikers are not going to church. Jesus said to go out into the highways and byways, and to compel them to come in. I feel like that’s my mission, that’s what God wants Keith Honeycutt to do. That really struck a chord with me. It’s my driving force, it’s my testimony.

Somewhere between the prayer of Jabez and the testimony of that biker, God has called me and He’s pushed me, He’s opened doors that only God can open. I’m happy to say that it’s been a “thrill ride” from the beginning. I’ve always loved to ride, it’s a rush that only bikers can understand. Riding is awesome... riding with purpose is “Out of this world.”

Keith Honeycutt, Boone Written by Kelly Goodman

...minister to the people that the church doesn’t want.

The Journey

Train Up a Child...

“Chasity is going to get baptized,” my mom said to me as I crawled onto her lap in the big La-Z-Boy recliner one afternoon. I was nine years old, and Chasity was seven. We had been inseparable best friends for over a year. “Oh! Well, can I get baptized too, then?” I asked Mom. She looked at me very seriously and asked me if I had Jesus in my heart. I responded with a vigorous, affirmative shake of my head. It was true. Mom had taught me to pray every night before bed when I was very young. “Thank you dear Jesus for this nice day, and thank you for all the things you’ve made and done and given to us.” Then I would fill in with my various childhood worries and requests, “Please be with people traveling, that their planes and helicopters won’t crash (in the wake of the deaths of NASCAR drivers Alan Kulwicki and Davey Allison in April and July of 1993), please don’t let our house burn down tonight, please keep my kittens safe as they play in the woods, etc,” and then we would end with “and God bless Momma and Daddy, MaMa and Papa, God bless Granny, and God bless me. Amen.”

After I was old enough to say my bedtime prayers by myself, I would add every night, “And please come into my heart, and forgive me for my sins, if you haven’t already, because I want to live in Heaven with you, I don’t want to go to Hell.” Every night. Just in case. Being nine years old and Southern Baptist, I was scared to death of Hell, and knew that the only escape was to have God and Jesus in my heart, but I wasn’t quite sure how to get them there. I didn’t tell Mom any of this, but assured her that I was ready for baptism.

Dad, Me and Mom at a wedding (2000)

Chasity and I were baptized a few weeks later, but I still wasn’t sure it was enough to keep me out of Hell, so I kept praying my prayer each night. I went to Sunday School and “Big Church” every Sunday, and was involved in all the activities offered to the children and youth. I listened to my parents and teachers, and followed all the rules to the point of being obnoxious. Mom, Dad, and I started going to a new church when I was fifteen, and I finally began to feel like God and Jesus were in my heart. I gladly went to church every time the doors were open, didn’t say bad words or lie, didn’t drink alcohol or do drugs, and piously strove to “save myself” for marriage. Our youth group was closely knit, especially after the unexpected death of my father when I was sixteen, and the reasons for going to church seemed to start to make sense.

Then I went away to college.

Me and Mom at the Beach (2010)

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I became one of those tragic statistics, one of those young adults who grew up in church, then went to college and drifted off. I still went to my home church on holidays and weekends when I went to visit my mother, but I didn’t get plugged in to any of the activities offered through the university and the local churches nearby. I still didn’t say bad words or lie, didn’t drink alcohol or do drugs, and piously strove to “save myself” for marriage. I wasn’t “bad,” but I wasn’t really living with a purpose, either. I met a boy and fell head over heels for him my first week at college. He asked me to marry him, and after almost two years with him, we got married. Like many twenty year olds, I was certain that I was grown up enough, and had everything figured out. It worked for a few years, but by the time I was twenty-three and he was twenty-eight, we had each changed so much that our differences were vast, and apathy,

selfishness, distraction, and lies crept into our marriage, which eventually crumbled beyond repair. I moved out, permanently, three days after my twenty-fourth birthday.

A friend of mine, to whom I am eternally thankful, asked me to go with her to her church after I left my husband, and I readily accepted her invitation. Since I was starting fresh with a new apartment, and a new job, in a town where I had few friends, I knew going to church might get me back on the right path. I started going to a Sunday School class and Sunday worship, and after a couple of months, I joined the choir, even though I’m a mediocre, at best, singer. My life was still a mess, but I was finally starting to see God. I remember lying on my bedroom floor one night, crying out and flailing my arms to God, rambling, “God, I’ve messed up so much. I’ve hurt you, I’ve hurt other people, my friends, my ex-husband, my Mother, and I’ve been hurt by others, I’ve made so many mistakes, I don’t know how I even got this way. I’m so confused, I’m a mess, I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing with my life, and I need you now because You’re the only one who can fix it. I’m so sorry, please come back into my life, please come be with me and lead me and help me learn to make good decisions and be the person you created me to be.”

Then I collapsed into incoherent mumbling and pleas, and God came into my life, for real. I finally realized what it meant to “have God and Jesus in my heart.” It wasn’t just about “being saved” from Hell. It was about a real relationship with a real God. He created me and loves me, and He wants to see me happy and healthy. He wants to help me and show me how much He loves me. Beyond that, He wants me to love Him back, and love and help other people. For the first time in years, I felt peaceful, forgiven, and encouraged.

I joined Boone United Methodist Church later that year, and suddenly, that’s been over five years ago. There have been pain, grief, confusion, chaos, and even some haphazard wandering through my life, even since that life-changing revelation in my bedroom floor that night, but God has always been beside me, even when He took my mother home in 2011, after a horrific eight month battle with cancer.

People often ask how I deal with everything that has been thrown my way in my thirty short years, and for me, the answer is simple. In Philippians 4:6 (NLT), we are commanded “Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all He has done.” It has taken years, well, all of my life, to get to this point, but for whatever reason, God has finally given me the grace to go through life freely, without fear. I simply live one day at a time, knowing that, while there are struggles and problems in this life, I am never alone. I am surrounded by friends and family, and a God who loves me, and I don’t have to have all the answers. However, there is one question that I definitely have the answer to, the question that my mother asked me over twenty years ago. My answer, finally, is “Yes, absolutely, God and Jesus are in my heart!”

Proverbs 22:6, “Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.”

Sarah Lynn Mills, Boone

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Winter 2013 25

The Journey

Daddy and Mom (1998)

Me and Daddy (1998)

My Father “Fine then, you go to your house of worship, and Mom and I will go to ours,” I snapped at my father as my mother and I prepared to leave the house for Sunday morning church.

He was going to work, something he did twelve hours a day, five days a week, at least half the day on Saturdays, and on days like that one, on Sunday as well. I was probably eleven years old, and understood the importance of attending church regularly and following all the rules, but I didn’t understand how to gently share God’s love for us, using kindness and love. I was quickly and sharply reprimanded by my mother, and had to apologize to my father. Needless to say, my disrespectful outburst did not make him want to attend church.

My father loved my mother and me very much. Everything he did was for “his girls.” He and Mom owned and operated a business, and he worked hard from sunup until sundown every weekday, then came home to a full meal prepared by my mother, helped me with homework, and rested on the couch until time for bed. On Saturdays, he worked all morning, then took Mom and me out to lunch at a local diner, and spent the afternoon and evening with us. On Sundays, Mom and I went to church, and Daddy stayed home.

We all ate lunch at my grandmother’s house, and Daddy and I would go fishing in our back yard until time for supper. He went to every band concert, Christmas play, and awards ceremony I was involved in. There was no doubt that he loved me. He wasn’t a “bad” man by any means. He was good, honest, hardworking, kindhearted, and well respected in our community, he just didn’t love God and church the way I did, and I couldn’t understand it. Everyone else in my entire family went to church. Why didn’t he?

I heard all sorts of excuses. “The benches hurt his back,” which he had broken while building his business when I was a baby, they told me. “Well, let’s sew pillows to his clothes,” was my hopeful, childlike solution. Then it progressed to, “He has to work to make money to take care of us,” or “It’s the only time he has to rest.” I had been to church nearly every Sunday since birth, so going came easily to me. I knew it was the right thing to do, even though I didn’t know why. My father’s choice to stay at home every Sunday continued to frustrate me, but I had learned to keep my mouth shut about it.

Then suddenly, when I was fourteen years old, my father started going to occasional church services with us. I was ecstatic! Progress! I noticed a change in him, too. He seemed less stressed out, spent more time at home, and seemed generally happier.

When I was fifteen, I started going to a different church on some Sundays, with the boy I was dating at the time. Mom and Dad used this opportunity to visit different churches themselves, in the hopes of finding one that nurtured and spoke to all three of us. As it turned out, the one I had been going to with my boyfriend had a solid youth group, a kind congregation, a young, interesting, and engaging pastor, and it was near our house. Mom and I moved our membership to that church after a few months, and Daddy went with us on most Sundays.

Daddy at work (1997)

Daddy getting baptized (2000)

From the day Hurricane Floyd devastated the coast of North Carolina in 1999, my dad often said, “I want to go help the Flood People.” The following spring, our church was given the opportunity to go to Burgaw, North Carolina, through the NC Baptist Men’s Disaster Relief program. My dad encouraged the trip, offering an enclosed trailer, his truck, his tools, and his time. Sixteen of us piled into a van and three trucks in June of 2000, and traveled across the state to “go help the Flood People” for a few days. We were a haphazard bunch, eight men, eight women, ranging in age from eight years old to teenagers to grandparents, single people, dating couples, and married couples. The NC Baptist Men had an old, run down, two bedroom, one and a half bathroom house for all of us to stay in while we were working. Mom stayed at home, but I went to “look after Daddy.” I was sixteen years old.

I knew it would happen. Daddy was prone to having grand mal seizures when he overworked himself. A normal routine, plenty of rest and food, and a daily regimen of medication usually kept the disorder under control, but being away from home, working out in the June sun, and even just the sheer excitement of living his dream of helping others was too much for his body to handle. I was in the shower before supper one night, when one of my friends barged in screaming, “Sarah, your daddy, we don’t know what to do.” She couldn’t even make the words to explain what was happening. I threw on some

clothes and raced out to the front room, where Daddy had taken off his shoes and was trying to climb the stairs to the attic. I had seen it happen a handful of times before, but never without my mother nearby. Somehow I managed to know what to do, and told everyone to stay calm. All we could do was keep him inside the house, keep him safe, and wait for it to end. After the longest ten minutes of my life, he started coming back around, the paramedics arrived, and we got him to the hospital.

The Journey

Two people stayed at the hospital with him, but I went back to the house to finish washing the shampoo out of my hair, and to call home to explain everything to my mother. After a couple of hours of testing and monitoring, he was released from the hospital, so two of us went to the hospital to pick up the other three. As we pulled up to the front of the hospital, our pastor and my father were sitting on the sidewalk out front, arms folded, elbows on their knees. They were engrossed in a deep and serious conversation, and I felt sure that they were discussing what it is that makes Christians different from everyday “good people.” The pastor held up one finger to us, indicating that they would be ready to leave in just a minute. I prayed that Daddy was almost ready to love God and going to church as much as Mom and I did.

Nearly two months later, on Tuesday, August 1, I came home from preseason marching band practice to find both of my parents absolutely beaming. My father had become a Christian! I had never been so excited in my life. I made a card for him out of construction paper, writing messages and drawing pictures with colored pencils. He was baptized just a couple of weeks afterward.

Mom and I sat on the front pew and smiled from ear to ear. Finally, our family was able to pray, study, attend church, and grow closer together. Everything was perfect.

Seven short weeks after that beautiful August day when Daddy accepted Jesus into his life, Mom and I found ourselves on the front pew of the church again. Seven short weeks, and God had accomplished His purpose in my father’s life. God took him home in a heartbreaking work related accident. It happened on a Saturday morning, during the fifteen minutes that the man he was working with was gone to pick up sandwiches for lunch. Daddy was forty-one years old.

The Bible speaks often of God’s perfect knowledge and timing, and my father’s story is an undeniable testament to that. While I miss him every day, and I can’t believe it’s been over thirteen years ago, I am thankful for the nearly seventeen years I did have with him on this earth. I am thankful for how hard he worked to support us, how he took care of us, for helping me as I grew and learned, and for teaching me to fish. I am thankful for how much he loved my mother and me, and for how he made sure we knew how much he loved us. Most of all, I’m thankful for his decision to love Jesus, assuring me that he is resting well, and I’ll see him again soon.

Sarah Lynn Mills, Boone

Winter 2013 27

The Journey

Memories From An Old Preacher’s Kid H

i, my name is Dave Thomas, and I am a “preacher’s kid” - O.k., I’m an “old preacher’s kid.” My dad served God through his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ all his life on this earth, and he taught me and my three brothers to do the same. From the day I was born, I was raised in the church and taught the Bible. It was as if I had no choice but to be a preacher. But in every church my dad served as pastor, I watched him give his flock unconditional love, while all he seemed to get back in return was suffering and persecution. Because of this observation, I never wanted to be a preacher like Dad. He seemed to have too many bosses, and even I could see, at a young age, that he would never be able to please them all. I did, however, enjoy singing! My oldest brother, Tim, two of his closest friends, and I formed a gospel quartet, and we traveled every summer, singing in churches, camps, conventions, and even once on a river boat. When they all went to college, the quartet broke up, but I joined them the following year and we picked up right where we left off - traveling to different churches, camps, and conventions, and singing every weekend. Our travels led us to Irvine, Kentucky, where I met the most beautiful woman and Christian I had ever seen… Her name was Becky, and she had the most beautiful singing voice I had ever heard! On July 5, 1974, we were married, and we immediately started singing together. After graduating from Kentucky Christian University with a B.A. degree, majoring in Bible and minoring in Christian Education, I continued my education with a master’s degree in Ministry, and was finally ordained as a Minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, by my dad, on May 11, 1975. (I said I am an “old preacher’s kid.”)

I’ll never forget Dad’s charge to me at my ordination: “Preach the Word!”

Dad ended every conversation we ever had after my ordination with that same charge: “Preach the Word!” I, however, enjoyed singing the Word. Two years later, Becky and I formed “Becky & Dave, Servants of Christ” and started traveling all over the US as singing evangelists. Before our first year

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was up, we were already booked solid for the next three years. I loved entertaining Christians! But when Dad died on March 29, 2001, I finally looked up those words that I missed hearing so much, “Preach the Word!” They were the last words I can remember him saying to me. I found them in 2 Timothy. It was as if I had read them for the first time, and after I read them, my ministry changed forever. The words come from the apostle Paul, who trained and ordained his “son” Timothy as an evangelist. In 2 Timothy 3:10-4:8, Paul reminded Timothy of some very familiar words that my dad taught me. “You know all about my teaching, my way of life, my purpose, faith, patience, love, endurance, suffering… the persecutions I endured…

In fact, everyone who wants to live a Godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted… But as for you, continue in what you have learned, and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it, and how from infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All scripture is God-breathed, and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped… In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus… I give you this charge: Preach the Word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage - with great patience and careful instruction. For the time will come when men will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn away from the truth… But you, keep your head in all situations, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, discharge all the duties of your ministry.

The day my dad died, my ministry changed! Until Dad’s death, I had preached and sung with my wife Becky all over the US, starting 7 churches. I would stay with the churches as their pastor until they were strong enough to support a full-time preacher of their own, and then I would move on, preaching and singing with Becky until we were able to find another core group of Christians strong enough to build another church. But, I never felt I was “discharging all the duties of my ministry.” I felt like I had to keep entertaining them and telling them what their itching ears wanted to hear if I wanted them to stay and the church to continue to grow. I needed to “Preach the Word!” I needed to preach all of it, including the doctrinal commands no one wanted to hear!

So, for the next four years after Dad’s departure, I prepared myself to “do the work of an evangelist.” I recorded sermons and teachings of the Holy Scriptures, on every book, chapter, and verse of the New Testament, and all the highlights of the Old Testament. I then wrote doctrinal study guides to teach the truth of the commands of the Gospel of Jesus Christ (I Timothy 4:16). I started a weekly one-hour radio program on WEMM 107.9 FM (every Monday night at 11:00), teaching straight through the Bible - every book, chapter and verse. And, after the lesson, I started offering FREE Bibles, CDs, and study guides. I didn’t just want to give a Bible to someone - I wanted to be sure they understood what they were reading. I knew it was time I started explaining what I learned about the Bible to more people, without fear of persecution to the point

The Journey where I might be tempted to skip the whole truth for fear that I may offend someone, lose my job, and have to find another way to support my family. It was time I started to “Preach the Word!” It was time to preach every book, chapter and verse without fear of persecution by those in the church who are offended by certain Scriptures, or don’t believe everything that is written in the Bible.

So, on August 29, 2005, I resigned from the church I was pastoring (a church I had started back in 1985), and started doing “the work of an evangelist.” The Lord allowed my radio program to go world-wide (you can now listen over your computer or smart phone), and I was soon hearing from people all over the world.

I started a website, www.soctm.com, and soon I had all of my sermons and lessons throughout the entire Bible, along with my radio program, and all of my doctrinal study guides available online.

I have since made contacts (sending Bibles, CDs, and study guides to them) in the following areas: Zambia, Ghana, Tanzania, Nigeria, Bunia, Congo, Kenya, Turkey, India, Iraq, Afghanistan, Burundi, Rwanda, Tororo, Rwabisengo, Malaba, Uganda, Entebbe, Philippines, and even Pakistan. I also have started prison ministries in Arizona, Missouri, West Virginia, Ohio and Kentucky. I now teach my contacts, send them Bibles, CDs, and study guides, and they teach the people in their study group or church in their own native languages. As they grow, I send more Bibles and materials - FREE OF CHARGE (2 Corinthians 2:17)!

Now, as I look back on my life with Dad while he was on this earth, I realize why he ended every conversation with me with that same charge - “Preach the Word!” I found the answer in 2 Timothy1:6-2:7, where the apostle Paul explained it to his “son” Timothy: “...I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands (at his ordination service)… But join with me in suffering for the Gospel… for of this gospel I was appointed a preacher, and an apostle, and a teacher. That is why I am suffering as I am. Yet I am not ashamed, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him for that day. What you heard from me, keep as that pattern of sound teaching… Guard the good deposit that I entrusted to you - guard it with the help of the Holy Spirit who lives in us… And the things you have heard me say in the presence of many witnesses, entrust to reliable men who will also be qualified to teach others.

Endure hardship with us like a good soldier of Christ Jesus. No one serving as a soldier gets involved in civilian affairs - he wants to please his commanding officer. Similarly, if anyone competes as an athlete, he does not receive the victor’s crown unless he competes according to the rules (doctrine)… Reflect on what I am saying, for the Lord will give you insight into all this.”

Now, as I reflect on Dad’s charge to me - to “Preach the Word,” I realize that I am the one Dad “entrusted” “the good deposit” with. I am the “reliable man” whom he deemed “qualified to teach others.”

And when my time comes for the Lord to call me home, I’ll see Dad again, and comfort him with the following words: I “preached the Word,” I “guarded the good deposit” he entrusted to me; and I left that “good deposit” with his three fine grandsons, who, he will be proud to know, are “reliable men” who will also be qualified to teach others!

Dave Thomas, Vilas Written by Kelly Goodman

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Sisters m Scarves N Jewelry N Accessories N 336-903-8499

Gail D. Walsh

1706 Winkler St. #3 Wilkesboro, NC 28679

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Part of Me

In the fall of 1999, I was 21 years old, and a teacher’s assistant for Saralyn Kader’s kindergarten class at Blowing Rock Elementary School. From the moment I met Saralyn, something just clicked. I felt as though I had known her my entire life. We became very close friends that year.

In the fall of 2000, I was set to assist Saralyn again, but the school announced it had obtained funding to hire an assistant physical education teacher. I had already coached volleyball the year before, so when I was offered this position I struggled with the decision to leave Saralyn. I’ve always had a strong passion and love for sports, so when this opportunity presented itself, I knew it would probably not come around again any time soon. I was elated, yet riddled with sadness.

Pursuing my “dream job” would mean that I would no longer be working with my dear friend.

With mixed emotions, I accepted my new job offer. I cried when I gathered my things and said goodbye to Saralyn. Though I only helped teach her class for a year, it felt like an eternity. Taking one last look around the classroom, I felt as though I had just been dropped off at summer camp, the first time away from my family, and homesick.

She assured me we would still see each other and keep in touch.

Over the next couple of years, Saralyn was invited to my family functions and special events. She fit right in with my family and became good friends with my mom, Cindy Gore. Close in age to Mom, Saralyn started to confide in her and shared that she had inherited Polycystic Kidney Disease (PKD). Her kidneys were failing.

Saralyn was going to have to undergo a kidney transplant. Ideally, the physicians wanted to perform a transplant before she went on dialysis. When mom shared this news with me, without any hesitation I said, “I’m going to be tested to see if I’m a good match for Saralyn.” Mom smiled and told me she already knew in her heart before she shared the news with me, that I was going to do this.

Mom and Dad were both super supportive of my decision. They were proud of me as I “stepped up to the plate.” For the first time in my life, I listened to what God was telling me to do. In my earlier years, I ignored Him in the decisions that I made for myself, and things didn’t always work out so well.

I had made the decision. I refused to sit back and watch my sweet friend go downhill because I didn’t try. Even if not a good match for Saralyn, at least I would be at peace that I tried to help. I contacted Saralyn and told her that I felt led to try to help her. Saralyn hesitantly asked, “Are you sure?” I assured her that I couldn’t be more serious.

As I proceeded full steam ahead to try and help my friend, not everyone in my life supported my efforts. My former boyfriend, Johnny, (now my husband) called me and said, “What are you doing? You’re young, and you need to worry about your own

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health. I don’t want you to go through with this procedure.” I explained to Johnny that God told me to do this, and I was going to listen. I told him everything would be okay.

The test results arrived. I was a match! As the procedure began, I was the thirteenth person at Baptist Hospital in Winston-Salem, NC, to undergo laparoscopic kidney removal. Everything went smoothly as if God were orchestrating things perfectly through His hands, and He was.

Two weeks before the surgeries, Saralyn asked her doctor, “Out of pure curiosity, how close of a match are Jennifer and me?” The doctor glanced through his charts and asked if Saralyn and I were related. She told the doctor that we were not related, and with a puzzled look, he asked, “Not even distantly?” Saralyn replied, “No.” The doctor said that we were as closely matched as a sister or mother or father. When Saralyn shared this astonishing news with me, we both knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, that we were meant to be lifelong friends.

I’ve always believed in God, but this experience with Saralyn increased my faith tremendously. This divine encounter with my friend was truly a turning point in my life. I feel truly blessed by God. After I learned to listen to God’s voice, other areas in my life began to fall into place like a well-written symphony. In April of 2006, the love of my life, Johnny Brown, asked me to be his wife.

Johnny says looking back now he is proud of me, and thinks it’s amazing that I donated my kidney to Saralyn. He said it was probably meant to be that we were not dating at the time of the procedure, because he would have tried his best to talk me out of it.

The Journey

I haven’t had any major health issues since my procedure; I’m not limited to anything. I continue to live a healthy, active lifestyle and Saralyn is doing fantastic, as well.

I have learned to trust God in all situations. God has blessed me with a truly amazing husband and two beautiful boys... we love them with all of our hearts. Mack is 6 years old and Mason is 1. Both boys are healthy, although we had a little scare with Mason. Mason was born prematurely; my water broke at 30 weeks. The doctors assured me that it was nothing that I had done wrong, “It just happens sometimes.” I was in the hospital for 3 1/2 weeks, and Johnny never left my side at Forsyth Medical Center. We had faith that everything would be okay, just like with Saralyn.

Baby Mason was born on February 22nd, 2012, weighing 4lbs, 10oz. He didn’t even have to be put on oxygen. Except for having to learn to suck and swallow at the same time, our baby was completely well. Two weeks after he was born, we were able to take him home. Mason is our miracle child.

I love how God works. Not only has He provided me with an amazing family, God has given me a huge network of support, the best friends anyone could ask for, terrific extended family members, an outstanding church family at Brushy Fork Baptist Church, and He’s blessed me with a wonderful occupation as Director of Blowing Rock Parks & Recreation. Through my new career I’ve formed countless heart-felt, lifelong camaraderies. Even though I’ve built several close relationships over the last several years, I’ll never forget the day I met Saralyn Kader. Some say she is blessed to have me, but I feel equally blessed to be a part of her life. Literally, a part of me lives in her forever (smile), and whether Saralyn knows it or not, a part of her lives in my heart forever.

Jennifer Brown, Zionville Written by Kelly Goodman

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Miracles

Do you believe in miracles? The New Testament is filled with miracles performed by Jesus and there is no doubt they really happened, but what about modern day miracles? Do you think real miracles can still happen today?

What kind of an event qualifies to be truly called a miracle from God? C.S. Lewis in his book “Miracles” defines a miracle as “an interference with nature by a supernatural power”. Many people feel that natural childbirth is a miracle in and by itself, but according to Lewis’ definition, normal childbirth would fall into the category of God’s providence. I have twin granddaughters that were born prematurely.

One weighed just over one pound and the other less than one pound; not what you would call a normal childbirth. I know that it took a miracle for them to survive and now at twelve years old they are both beautiful and normal young ladies. Praise God for His miraculous intervention in their lives!

I have been involved in dozens of certain death situations in the wildernesses of Canada and Alaska, yet managed to live through them all due to some very definite interferences by supernatural powers.

Things like getting caught in forty foot waves while piloting a twenty foot boat fifty miles from shore in the North Pacific Ocean. Or being attacked by a half ton bull moose at close range, or better yet, being surrounded by a pack of 50-60 howling wolves when I was three miles from camp in the dead of night. Or, how about unknowingly creeping up to within twenty feet of a monster boar grizzly bear in thick brush, yet getting out of that jam unscathed. These are just a few of the many true adventure stories found in my book Miracles In The Wilderness. The following is an excerpt from that book.

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I was standing on the edge of the bank about twenty feet downstream from Wayne when he looked over at me.

“Remember the big ole grizzly bear that we have been seeing around here every day for the past several days?”

“Yea,” I replied, “what about him?” “Well he is back again and this time is standing about ten feet behind you.”

“What’s he doing?” I asked in a rather high pitched and wavering voice. “Well he is just sniffing you out right now.

Oops! He just took a couple steps closer to you.” I peeked over to my right and saw Wayne slowly reach down with his right hand and unsnap the strap on the holster of his .44 magnum pistol. “Oh great,” I thought. “How is he ever going to drop a charging grizzly bear quick-draw cowboy style? I know he is a good shot, but get real; it is my life at stake here.” After sneaking a peek over my left shoulder at the bear, I whispered over to Wayne “Get ready, he’s gonna make a move.” I could see Wayne holding his pistol grip, ready to quick draw and fire. I was trapped and completely at the mercy of this big grizzly’s whim. It was going to take a miracle to get me out of this jam. “Dear God”, I prayed, “If you are out there, I could sure use a little help right now.

This bear is going to attack!”

Needless to say, I did survive that grizzly bear encounter on the banks of the Susitna River, which is about one hundred miles north of Anchorage, Alaska. Adventure stories, although exciting to read, are not the message of my book, however. The grace (and patience) of God is my true message.

My walk through life has been more like a run. As a young child, I was every mother’s worst nightmare. If I couldn’t find any trouble to get into, I simply created my own. My sense of adventure and daring was out of control for most of my youth and spilled into my adult life for many years as well. I used to love getting scared half to death just to appreciate still being alive. Sound crazy? It was, but the true drama surrounding my life was my unwillingness to yield to the possibility of God until I experienced the power of God. You see, through my many years of being wild, reckless, and daring, yet being spared time and time again I began to ask the question “why”. Why was God continuing to intervene in my life by saving me from certain death so

many times? Did He have a purpose for me, and if so, what was it?

The Journey

I don’t believe in luck, but I do believe in the providence of God as he looks after all of His creations. So many of my precarious situations needed an interference of supernatural powers above and beyond providence for me to survive, so I couldn’t help but to realize over time that God was in control of my life; not me.

I was a “tweener”. I was between thinking I knew truth and actually knowing the real truth that only a saved Christian can know and experience. His miracles in my life drove me to the cross, and then God provided the most awesome miracle of all; He saved me for eternity. I now know that He saved me so that I could help spread His word of salvation and love while still residing here on Earth.

My book has become my mission in life. I give talks to church groups, for wild game dinners, and gatherings of any kind whenever and wherever I can to spread the word of God’s grace and love. I never charge money for my time, but I do sell my book (see below for purchase information). I also keep a supply on hand for providing signed copies for those who wish them.

My life has been an unusual one: full of adventure, danger and excitement. It has also been a life filled with God’s unending love and grace. Psalm 68:20 is very special to me. “Our God is a God who saves; from the Sovereign Lord comes escape from death.” 1 John 4:8 says “...God is love.” 4:9 “…and God showed His love for us by sending His only Son into the world, so that we might have life through Him.” When I became saved on March 30, 1996, the Lord revealed these words to me. “Life is all about love, Tom, and God is love.” Truer words have never been spoken.

In April of 2012, Mary Jo, my beautiful wife of forty eight years, and I moved to the High Country of North Carolina. Jefferson in Ashe County is now our home and we love it here. Our new church family is The Gathering, where pastors Scott Day and Luke Peterson preach the true Gospel according to God’s word. They are amazing young men with unwavering faith and courage.

My latest adventure in life, if you can call it an adventure, has been my battle with cancer. In December of this past year, I was diagnosed with colon cancer. Six weeks of chemotherapy and radiation treatments comprised phase one of my journey with this dreaded disease. Major surgery in April, followed by more chemotherapy, and secondary surgery in September rounded out the treatment program.

Having cancer is scary to be sure, but I trust in the Lord God 100%.

He has looked after me for sixty eight years and I know he will not quit now. His will shall be done! I will neither question nor complain because I have been so blessed in my life. With my wife Mary Jo at my side, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ in our hearts, we can, through faith, love and trust, manage any adversity.

Tom D Lynch, Jefferson

This book can be purchased through Amazon.com, or locally at Cornerstone Books in Boone or Candy Shack Cafe in West Jefferson.

Winter 2013 33

The Journey

More It is an early fall morning and I sit, sipping freshly brewed coffee, peering out my window, trying to get a glimpse of a new morning that God has given to me, yet again. But dense fog hugs the ground as if to prolong the season’s change to winter. I, for one, am in agreement with the fog this morning. I want to prolong the transition from fall to winter myself for winter is the season which challenges me from all sides—spiritually, emotionally, physically, and intellectually. However, in my life as a shepherdess, there are blessings to every season. This fall morning begins the cycle in the life of a newborn lamb…

Today will be the day that my ram (male sheep) will be separated from all of the ewes (female sheep) so that I may begin the process of flushing my ewes. This involves providing nutrient rich grain once daily so that as the ewes prepare for breeding, the extra nutrition provides a greater opportunity for more than one ovum to be dropped for fertilization. This increases the chances that each ewe will deliver twins or triplets as opposed to a single lamb. My purpose for the ewes is to bring the greatest number of lambs (blessings) to my farm as possible.

My ram will be given grain on a daily basis also; he has a big job ahead of him in breeding so many ewes. Today is a reminder to my sheep of their devotion to their master, since they really love grain, and that their Master is their only provision of grain. It is a special treat and a nice change of texture from the lush, green pastures of summer.

Sheep are not so intelligent. For the first few days of graining, I have to call them in, and then, after about a week, I shake the grain buckets and the noise brings them in; after about ten days, just my mere presence at the barn brings them in.

They are grateful little creatures and look, with longing eyes, for just a little more.

But more is a no-no in the world of grain. Only one cup per ewe; they struggle with the concept that I, as their master, know best. What a powerful metaphor in the life of a Christian! How many times have I looked up at God with longing eyes begging for more! My response has often been that of a spoiled brat, “God why can’t I have more? Haven’t I been a faithful servant? I deserve more, God! How come you are saying no to me, but folks with other masters are getting more than me?” Sound familiar? You see, as the master of my sheep, I know how much is enough. Too much grain, and my sheep become lazy, overweight, and lethargic.

They lose sight of their purpose. They take their master for granted. They depend on the grain more than they depend on their master. There is a powerful metaphor here. Oh my -- just like I can depend more on His blessings than on my relationship with Him, the precious one-on-one time.

So it is, once again, my sheep have provided me with a much needed lesson. I am grateful for the portion that God grants me each day. Hopefully, tomorrow will the beginning of many tomorrows when I respect the amount He gives me daily—no more and no less—just thankfulness because I am His lamb; perfect and unblemished through His blood, shed for me on the cross of Calvary. May our lives be a continual praise to Him, the Good Shepherd.

Kim Furches, West Jefferson

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Florence Thomas, Leaving a Legacy More than a century ago, a child was born near the Virginia line, in the Horse Creek section of Ashe County. It was an ordinary day, which brought about the beginning of the extraordinary life and legacy of Florence Thomas.

Over her lifetime, Florence produced hundreds of paintings that “captured the soul and the mystery and ultimately the comfort of common things; conveying a ‘mood’ with color, leaving a person with feelings and not just admiration,” as so eloquently put in the book The Art of Florence Thomas.

On March 30, 2007, at the age of 98, Florence Thomas’s life came to a peaceful ending. She had the forethought to have provided a trust which created the art school, which held its first workshops in 2008.

Since then, the art school has grown and specializes in providing small group, one- to three-day workshops in the fine arts, led by professional artists from across the United States. In 2012, they expanded their programming by adding evening classes, a Saturday Beginner Series, First Friday Mini-workshops, and ‘FLO Kids,’ a summer art program for children.

With its recent move to downtown West Jefferson, the art school continues to grow and expand its programs and services as it promotes the legacy of Florence. Her spirit and her paintings will live on to inspire many future generations.

Winter 2013 35

Nella’s Native

The Journey

At age thirteen, Madison Shepherd has accomplished the unimaginable. This fleet feeting, banjo picking Ashe County native just completed a stint in a recording studio. The Close Kin Youth Project will release a CD in April, 2014, which features her banjo playing talents.

The following is a synopsis of her story.

On May 6, 2000, a star was born. Her parents knew she was special, but what they didn’t realize was that their precious bundle of joy would grow into such a talented young lady.

Shortly after bringing her home from the hospital, Madison’s parents noticed that her head appeared to be swelling. Startled, they rushed her to the doctor and it was discovered that a blood vessel had ruptured in her brain and was not draining properly. All of the extra fluid was gathering in a very delicate area, expanding her brain. Doctors determined that Madison suffered from a condition called Hydrocephalus. In treating her condition, surgery was required to implant a shunt, which would allow the fluid to drain into her body where it could be properly absorbed. Amazingly, Madison was the first person to have this type of shunt implanted. It remains in place today and she carries on with her life, and credits God with everything — “God is so amazing! It is such a blessing to have a shunt and be able to live a fully normal life.”

Madison began her passions at a very young age. “I grew up going to a place called Nella; a place in Lansing where they had dancing and bluegrass music. I started moving my feet down there. Then my Mamaw took me at age three to sign up for clogging lessons, and I’ve been clogging since then.” She grew to appreciate bluegrass music all the more, hearing the talents of Alison Krauss and Rhonda Vincent. It was actually at a Rhonda Vincent show that she envisioned her dream of playing a banjo. She says she was 6 or 7 years old at the time. “A JAM (Junior Appalachian Musicians) group opened up the show and I was just fascinated by the banjo player, and I told myself that I would one day become a banjo player.” She has kept that promise to herself. In fourth grade, she began her career with the JAM Program in Ashe County. She began competing at age 11, and has literally swept banjo competitions this summer. Her trophies and ribbons are too numerous to mention. She is a member of the senior class of Kitty Honeycutt’s Fleet Feet Cloggers, and assists Miss Kitty with teaching beginner classes. She attends Ashe County Middle School and is the daughter of Danny and Jennifer Shepherd and Kim Eastridge.

Madison is not only making her family proud, but Ashe County too. Her great big God has some great big plans for a gal who dreamed great big dreams.

Madison Shepherd, Laurel Springs Written by Kim Furches

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The Journey

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Winter 2013 37

“

The Journey

Life’s hardships, cares, worries, temptations, and injustices can conspire against us

to derail us from the good purpose God has for our lives. It’s very easy in today’s world

to get hardened and cynical, and to withdraw into our own selfish worlds, looking out for

” Don’t Be

ourselves, because we think no one else will. But don’t do it!

Derailed From Fulfilling Your Purpose When I was 21 years old, in 1976, I became severely depressed and dropped out of college. I had attended Mars Hill College for two years as a philosophy and religion major, and had transferred to UNC-Chapel Hill. But when my life began to unravel, I knew I needed to take a break and get it back together.

So many things had changed since I left for college, with a sense of destiny, to follow in my father’s footsteps and become a pastor. The plan was four years of college, then seminary, then pastor a church. However, in the fall of 1975, circumstances had conspired to cause me to deeply question my faith, and to pursue a lifestyle that I knew, in my heart, was not right.

I was home for the Labor Day break, sitting on a recliner trying to watch TV, as my mind was racing and tormented. My mom came up from behind my chair and reached over to put her hands on my face, because she was hurting and concerned for me, as only a mama can be. When she felt the tears streaming down my face, she said, “Ben, I know what you’re going through right now is hard and confusing, but I believe God has a good purpose for it.” In my anger and confusion, I shot back, “If this is how your God works, I don’t want anything to do with Him.” Shortly after this, I dropped out of college and moved to Greenville, North Carolina, because I had two sisters who lived there.

My logic was that I could live with one of them, get a job, and maybe work my way out of the mess I had gotten myself into.

I left my partying ways and spent a lot of time alone, writing poetry, trying to reach out to a God who I wasn’t sure was real.

Once, in my desperation, I knelt beside my bed with a Bible and said to God, something like this: “Look, I don’t know if you’re real. I could just be talking into the air. But, if you are real, I need some sign of hope. Since I don’t believe that you’re going to talk to me in an audible voice, I’m going to randomly open this Bible and I’m going to ask you to speak to my situation.” The Bible was at my sister’s house and had belonged to my dad. I guess she had it because he had many others.

Imagine my surprise and amazement when the book fell open to an Old Testament passage. There was only one sentence underlined in that whole chapter (and I think, the whole Bible). It was in 2 Kings 20:5, and it said, “I have heard your prayer and seen your tears; I will heal you.” That night I slept peacefully for the first time in months, and from that point on, my life began to change for the better.

Now let’s fast forward to July of 1977. I had found the woman of my dreams, and we had married on May 7, 1977. Her name was Connie McBride, and after we married, we loaded our 3 dogs and ourselves into a van to travel out west. Since I now believed that God was real, I started reading all kinds of spiritual books. I read some of the Koran, some of the Bhagavad Gita, the works

38 Winter 2013

continued on page 40

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Winter 2013 39

of Khalil Gibran, Siddhartha, Be Here Now, and other books by modern gurus, but I also read The Bible. So, in July of 1977, I was on a mountain near Coos Bay, Oregon, overlooking the Pacific Ocean and reading from The Bible. The passage that jumped off the page at me was from John 15:5, where Jesus said, “…apart from me you can do no nothing.” Right then my Bible dropped to my lap, my hands raised to the sky and I said out loud, “I surrender. I’m yours.” In that same week, separate from me, Connie had a similar experience. From that point on, we began to ask the Lord what He wanted us to do with our lives.

We wanted to live in Oregon. We had traveled the state and loved its diversity, but every time I would pray and ask God what He wanted for us, this voice in my mind said, “Go to Boone, and wait.” Since I didn’t know for sure that a person could hear from God like that, I didn’t buy into that as a direction we should pursue. Besides, I didn’t know much about Boone. I had only passed through it once, when I was at Mars Hill and came to visit friends at Lees-McRae College in Banner Elk. One time, when calling home to talk to my parents, who lived in North Carolina, my dad asked me what our plans were. “I don’t know,” I said. “We like it so much here, we’re thinking about staying a while. What do you think?”

Out of the blue, he said, “I think you should move to Boone.” I was shocked to hear him say that and asked him what prompted that statement. He said, “I don’t know. I just feel like you should look into it.”

It wasn’t long after this that Connie and I traveled back to North Carolina. We went to visit family and friends in different places, and told them that we were thinking of moving to Boone. To our surprise, everyone except my dad tried to dissuade us. “The job market is not good there. It’s hard to find places to live.” Those were the types of things that people, at least our friends and family, said about Boone in 1977. But, since we couldn’t shake the feeling of needing to come to Boone, we made an agreement. We would go to Boone to visit and stay with friends. We would try to find jobs and a place to live. We decided that if that didn’t happen within one week, we shouldn’t be here. But, it did happen.

In October of 1977, we moved to a small house in Vilas. Connie got a job in a nursing home and I got a job working construction. Little did we know that 36 years, 6 kids, and 8 grandkids later, we would still be living in Boone. But here we are, and we think we’re here to stay.

Now, let me rewind to 1976, when my mama told me that maybe God had a good purpose for the hard stuff I was going through. Though I mocked her then, I now know that to be true. It’s in The Bible in Romans 8:28 that “God works all things together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.” It’s one thing to know that in theory, but my journey, from 1976 to the present, has branded this truth in my soul.

40 Winter 2013

When I moved here in 1977, I knew it was important for Connie and me to find a church where we could be nurtured in our new-found faith. The church we found was just being planted, and we slowly immersed ourselves into the life of that fellowship. Because it was a young church, it had young leaders, and they set me in as a leader in 1979, accepted me into their Bible School, and then ordained me as the Associate Pastor in 1982. In 1984, I became the pastor there and grew with that church until I resigned in 2001.

That time in 2001 was difficult for my family and me, because that’s the only church we knew for 24 years. But, since I knew from scripture, and also, in my heart, that God has a good, redemptive purpose for everything we go through, I persevered and tried to keep my attitude straight. However, the thing that confused me was what to do with the pastoral call on my life. It had come to fruition, in spite of the fact that I had tried to run from it in 1976, and now I didn’t have a church to pastor.

As offers from churches and ministries, in other cities, would come in, I would pray about taking them, but I would always feel God was telling me I could not leave Boone until He gave me the OK. So, for the last 12 years, I’ve waited and prayed, done some interim and pulpit supply work, and been involved in other kinds of ministry. I am also on the leadership team in my current church, but the bulk of my time has been spent working for Main Street Marketing, the company I now own.

When the offer came for me to buy the company in 2006, I said no, because I felt it would conflict with the pastoral call on my life. But as I prayed about this, I felt like the Lord spoke this to my heart: “The thing you think will tie you up will free you up, if you build the company right.” On that basis, I bought the rights to Main Street Marketing in Watauga and Avery Counties beginning in 2007. Then, a year later, I bought the rights to Ashe County. Two years ago I added a digital advertising component, High Country 365, to the many niche marketing options my company offers. High Country 365 is available both as a website and a free mobile app.

Shortly after I purchased the company, the national and local economy got very shaky. In spite of all that, I have been very grateful for the way we have been blessed. Yet, I’ve recently battled through a crisis of faith, wondering if I really did hear God tell me to buy the business.

In addition to a fragile economy, the advertising business is highly competitive, with both reputable and unscrupulous competitors. To run a successful company in this environment has demanded all my energy and attention in a way that I had not anticipated in 2007. In short, my passion to fulfill my purpose as a pastor to this High Country region seemed to be getting choked out by the demands of my business. However, I’m pleased to report that I’m currently having some liberating major breakthroughs, and I know I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing.

On the one hand, we’re making some positive changes in our company, addressing the issue of building the company right. All of us at Main Street Marketing and High Country 365 are encouraged by some of the fundamental changes we’re making. We believe that these changes will lessen the stress on everyone who works here, and enhance the quality of the products we produce to help our clients’ businesses. However, the biggest positive adjustment has been in my own thinking and mindset. The reason I’ve gone into such detail about this is because my experiences tie in with the theme of our other stories in this edition, which have to do with finding and fulfilling your purpose in life.

We all have a purpose in life that we need to find and fulfill in order to be who it is that God intended for us to be, which will also make the world a better place. I now know that God destined me to be a pastor in little ol’ Boone, NC, but not just in the traditional church

continued on page 42

The Journey

Winter 2013 41

The Journey

context. I’ve experienced, for years, the satisfaction of using my God-given pastoral gifting in the context of Main Street Marketing, that’s not a surprise. What is different is that I feel a traditional setting would be counter-productive to what I’m actually supposed to do. Therefore, I have a new determination to no longer allow this business to restrict me or “tie me up” from fulfilling my purpose for being here.

This twelve year sojourn has alerted me to a peril that we all face.

That peril is this: Life’s hardships, cares, worries, temptations, and injustices can conspire against us to derail us from the good purpose God has for our lives. It’s very easy in today’s world to get hardened and cynical, and to withdraw into our own selfish worlds, looking out for ourselves, because we think no one else will.

Personally, I’ve been tempted to do that many times between 2001 and 2013, and I have just gone to great lengths to describe most of my personal break-through. However, I want to leave you with one final thing.

By God’s grace, He has been inspiring me to make the next 20 years of my life, God willing, full of life and purpose. The purpose is to be fully who God’s called me to be, and to be a force for good in a hurting, broken, and often evil world. He has taken me through a process to get me to this point, but it kicked into another gear when I opened the paper and read the headline about the slaying of the innocents in Newtown, Connecticut.

Though there have been many senseless acts of violence like this in my lifetime, for some reason this evil event shook me to the core of my being. I felt almost as bad as I did when I first heard about the terrorist attack of 9/11/01. In fact, I dropped my paper and looked to heaven and said, “What are we supposed to do in the face of such evil?” As clear as a bell, God spoke to my heart, “The only way to overcome evil is with good.” That statement is also found in the Bible in Romans 12:21. When I pondered this, I knew that He wasn’t talking just about overcoming evil by doing good works. That’s important, but it’s got to go deeper than that. Remember, even people with questionable motives can do good works. What I’m talking about is being good as a person.

The only real way that you, or I, or anyone, can be the kind of good person that this world so desperately needs, and to be who it is He intends for us to be, is with God’s help. In light of that, I’ve been asking God to help me be a good man to my wife, my kids, my grandkids, my employees, my clients, my friends, and yes, even my enemies. I’ve also been asking Him to forgive me for the many times I fail to do this, and to please make perfect His strength in my weakness. I’ve also been praying that God would do that same softening of all our hearts here in the High Country. No matter what your denomination, your religion, your politics, or your opinions, God knows we need it.

Ben Cox, Boone

42 Winter 2013

The Journey

Winter 2013 43

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The Journey

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Idol’s Tire..............................................8 Jefferson Rent-All................................35 J&B Auto Repair..................................34 Jo-Lynn Enterprises, Inc.....................19 Kim Furches Family Therapy..............34 Legacy Pre-Finishing, Inc....................46 Liddle’s Plumbing................................36 Life Care Center.................................41 Life Christian Center..........................39 Main Street Marketing.........................44 Melanie’s Food Fantasy......................37 Melissa Goodman, CPA.........................4 Modern Toyota......................................2 Mount Vernon Baptist Church.............43 NationwideInsurance-AndyHarkins.......6 Nationwide Insurance- Chuck Eyler......20 New River Building Supply..................43 New River Gymnastics Academy............25 Oak Grove Baptist Church...................17 Pam’s Unique Boutique.......................24 Parker Tie...........................................47 Perry’s Gold Mine................................36

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Merry Christmas

from the staff at MSM

&

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46 Winter 2013

The Journey