A Girl's (Boy's) Garden

A neighbor of mine in the village
Likes to tell how one spring
When she was a girl on the farm, she did A childlike thing.
One day she asked her father
To give her a garden plot
To plant and tend and reap herself, And he said, "Why not?"


The previous text is an excerpt from "A Girl's Garden" by Robert Frost, from the volume A Mountain Interval, first published in 1916. Today I planted my first flower garden. Trust me, I know precious little about plants, but I'm going to try to learn. A few weeks ago, we received (or I should say the previous owners of our house received) in the mail a catalog from Springhill Nursery. We thought it would be nice to have some color in the front of our house, so we browsed the catalog and selected flowers that supposedly do well in our climate and are fit for abundant sunshine, that will bloom from June until frost.

For the record, we planted Super Shasta Daisy, Little Business Daylily, Wonder of Staffa Aster, Rudbeckia Toto, Isaac House Hybrid Scabiosa and Pink Coreopsis. It's my understanding that deer tend to avoid most of these, so hopefully the critters won't get to them. The catalog also stated that some even attract butterflies.

Perhaps some of our friends and family (Aunt Pam) can help us with some growing tips. I absolutely want to avoid using nasty chemicals (if one can't pronounce it, one shouldn't be using it). But, by the same token I want to make sure I feed them properly (I already sang to them as I placed them in the ground). I look forward to what God will teach me through the process of planting and nurturing these flowers; I'm sure there are life lessons there. The girl in the poem ended up with "a little bit of everything and a great deal of none". I'm hoping we'll get a color splash of white, pink, blue, red, yellow and lavender.

Love to you from Kennesaw...

View From The Top

From the top of Kennesaw Mountain on a clear morning, the view is almost limitless. This morning was no exception. Cindy and I decided that we would tackle the mountain this morning during our long run, and the payoff speaks for itself. Sunrises at KEMO are a lot like the sunsets on Cape Cod; each one is different and they are all beautiful. At the risk of displaying my ignorance or sounding irreverent, I wonder if God ever looks around and says, "Wow!".


Cindy and I are beginning to pick up the weekly mileage a bit. A couple of friends from church have asked us to help them train for a fall marathon, and we may end up competing ourselves. While we are far from expert runners, we do have experiences that we are happy to share, both successes and failures. So, look for us in the field this fall. Cindy only has 12 minutes to shave for a Boston qualifier.


We've had a busy spring so far here in Big Shanty. My parents came for their first visit last week. They got to do a little sightseeing, and Dad even hiked up the mountain with me. Their time with us was topped of by a visit to The Varsity. "What'll ya have???!!!!" My answer to that question was three chili dogs, onion rings, lemonade and half of Cindy's milkshake, followed by a long night of indigestion!!


I'll be planting my first flower bed in a couple of weeks. Any tips will certainly be appreciated, and humorous updates are sure to follow.

Balcony People

Last June, as I was contemplating God's call into full time ministry, I took the course "Seven Habits of Highly Effective People". (It's interesting how God works, because I signed up for that class months before I ever began conversations with Kennesaw First Baptist Church, and by the time we were travelling for interviews, it was time for this class... but that's a another story in itself.) On the first day of the class, we talked about "balcony people". This concept is based on the "cloud of witnesses" passage from the New Testament book of Hebrews. Basically it means that we have been influenced by people in our past, some dead and some living (thank you, John Lennon), who are now watching us and pulling for us in our race for life. Our instructor encouraged us to write letters to our "balcony people" and thank them for pouring themselves into us. Try it. The exercise will cause you to look at your life with a different perspective. This blog is about one of my balcony people. Others may follow, maybe not, but this one begs to be written.

John Deloach. Band Director, Fort Mill High School, 1972-1977. If you are a former student, he will always be "Mr. Deloach". I first met Mr. Deloach in the fall of 1975, when he took over teaching duties at Fort Mill Junior High. I think I was afraid of him the first time I met him. Over the next 18 months, I grew to respect him immensely and love him deeply. He had this aura about him that told you that he was going to make you better and he knew it. Cocky? Likely. Confident? Oh, yes. Perfectionist? Don't even kid yourself otherwise. Driven and focused? You can bet your life on it. He was part musician, part Vince Lombardi. And I loved it.

Mr. Deloach spent hours with us, teaching us life lessons as he taught us music. He taught me that anything less than my best effort was failure. He taught me that even when I give my best effort, sometimes others will be better. He taught me to give and give and give until I had nothing left to give, then to give a little more. By the spring of 1977, I had been selected to the South Carolina All State Band, and I will never forget the look on his face when he told me the news. I think I was as happy for him as I was for myself.

I remember the day he told us he was resigning. I don't think I'll ever forget, nor do I desire to repeat, the feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt like I was losing a parent, and I cried all the way home. He told me that everything would be ok, and again he was right. The world didn't stop just because he left, and in some ways it was even better, and through his leaving he taught me humility.

Three years after his departure, in the spring of 1980, I auditioned for the SC All State Band as a senior and was selected 1st Chair Tenor Saxophone. Mr. Deloach's influence on me had been so profound that I insisted that my parents locate him so that I could phone him with the news. When told him the results, he put the phone down and I could hear him literally screaming to his wife, who was on the other side of the house. He was so proud...

These days I think Mr. and Mrs. Deloach are retired and live somewhere in the upstate region of SC. I haven't talked to him in years, but I want him to know a few things. Mr. Deloach, thank you. God used you to help me become a servant leader. Mr. Deloach, I miss you. I use your lessons and methods often. Mr. Deloach, I love you. As a struggling teenager, my life could have taken so many directions, but praise God, you were there.

So, who are your balcony people?

January Randomness

Hello All... We're enjoying a little after dinner quiet. I was looking through some photos I received lately and thought someone might find these interesting.

First, someone sent this one to me on Facebook. This was taken in the spring of 1981. From the looks of the theatre props I'd say it was taken in the basement storage area of the music building at Furman. These are some of the Phi Mu Alpha brothers and pledges at something called a "pledge court". Don't ask because I honestly don't remember its purpose. Anyway, in the photo L-R are Jimmy Hembree, John Clanton, me and Bryant Waldkirch.

Next, we have a photo lovingly titled "Old Men of the Family". Evidently my mother's brothers decided to take a little road trip to see their eldest brother in Moses Lake, WA about a year ago (I think). The McKinney profile is not on prominent display but I can assure you it's there. In this photo we have L-R in ascending birth order, Roddy, Jim and Bo. What a crew!

Finally, we have a commemorative photo of a Kennesaw Mountain run with two members of the Citadel corps of cadets. These two gentlemen stopped by to see us in Kennesaw over the New Year's holiday, and of course we couldn't resist dragging them out for a little pre-dawn jaunt up Kennesaw Mountain (a true rite of passage for any Georgia runner). They were great! However, with all modesty I feel it my obligation to point out to the reader that the author of this blog (i.e. "Pops") outran them both to the summit. Michael claimed to have been distracted by a deer. For now, I guess I'll buy that. In this photo we have L-R Cadet 2nd Class Michael Dockery, Cindy "Queen of the Mountain" Newell, and Cadet 3rd Class Aaron Anderson.

Enjoy your chuckles...

Merry Christmas in Kennesaw

This morning we were awake early, 3:30am (yes we're crazy), working on our Christmas morning tradition. We've got breakfast in the oven, and I'm on the laptop in the den waiting on the goodies in the oven. Nat King Cole, Karen Carpenter and Andy Williams are on the radio. Snickers is trying to figure out why we're up but not feeding her. It's drizzling just a little outside, and the mist makes the lights in the neighborhood twinkle that much brighter. NORAD says that Santa is now in Alaska, almost finished with his annual deliveries.


My cousin, Karen, has a lot of old family photos (I'm the one in the striped pants). Looking at these brings back a flood of wonderful memories. I come from a very large and very close family. Although I'm not sure of the date of the photo at left, my guess would be the summer of 1972 or 1973. The years have scattered us across the country. Whoever thought I would be in Kennesaw, GA, after 20 years in Fort Mill? Life is like that isn't it, Forrest? You never know what you're gonna get.

Even though we live in a new place, some things are constant and the melody and harmony of God's love for us is perpetual. I feel that this Christmas more than ever. We are strangers in a new land, but folks at our new church have taken us in and made us part of their family. One family even had us over to share in their Christmas Eve celebration last night. That was a huge blessing to me because the Newell and McKinney families had such wonderful times together over the holiday seasons of years past. When I was in high school, the McKinney clan used to pack into cars and drive around Fort Mill, caroling for family friends. Aunt Brenda Kay would always come over and help us make snow people and then there was the food at my grandparents house. TONS of it! Two such holiday gatherings stand out in my mind. The first would be the Immaculate Reception as Franco Harris and the Steelers defeated the Oakland Raiders in the AFC playoffs in 1972. The other would be December of 1979, during my senior year in high school. My Pappaw had died just weeks before, and still the family went caroling. Brenda Kay brought along her photography assistant, Lori, and on Christmas morning Brenda gave me a card with Lori's phone number.

Yes, this year we're in a new location, but we feel so blessed to be making new memories on this new adventure that we have undertaken. My prayer for whoever reads this is that you experience the same love, mercy and grace that I have experienced. I believe with all my heart that God loves each of us so much, desires a real and dynamic relationship with each of us so much, that he gave us Jesus Christ, Immanuel, God With Us, so that we could experience the joys of heaven forever. Truly, wise men still seek Him. Merry Christmas 2008.

I wish you peace.

The Music of Luke

Well, today is the start of my weekend. Did I ever tell you that I get Friday's off? It's one of those preacher things, I suppose. Our church considers Sunday to be a work day for me, so my weekends are Friday and Saturday. It's a bit different and it took some getting used to, but now it's kind of neat to be able to spend Fridays running errands for Cindy and taking care of various needs around the house.

This morning I took my birthday money and went shopping. Those of you who know me well are already cringing, because I detest shopping. Today I made the mistake of not having in mind what I wanted before I left. Big no-no. I ended up in the crowd of folks who were taking a 3-day weekend to go "door-busting". Did I mention I don't do crowds, either? I found lots of things I needed (socks, pants, shirts), but only a few in my size and EVERYTHING had been thoroughly examined by the early birds and was completely jumbled. Because I have a limited budget I couldn't decide what to purchase. Even though the prices will surely triple again after the holidays, I suppose I'll wait until the rush is over (by the way, why is it that a $15 dollar shirt costs $45 after the calendar flips? doesn't that fly in the face of supply and demand, or am I the only one who notices that kind of thing?). The other thing that irked me more than a little was that if I used a store credit card, I could get an additional 10-20% discount per item. I don't want more debt, I just want more socks, for crying out loud! I thought we were celebrating God's love for us, not our love for "stuff". OK, you can relax now, the rant is over. Do you understand now why I don't like shopping?

One of the things that I actually am enjoying about this Christmas season is my daily Bible reading. The book of Luke has 24 chapters, and our pastor has challenged us to read one chapter per day leading up to our Christmas Eve service. God's Holy Spirit has been revealing new things to me each day, and over the past couple of weeks I have read several familiar passages in an entirely different light. One of the things that really strikes me is Jesus' relationship with the Samaritan people. You see, to Jesus' Hebrew contemporaries, the people from Samaria were illegitimate, unclean, untouchable, second (some would say "no") class. Yet Jesus loved them, healed them and used them in powerful illustrations to teach God's love, mercy and grace. As a follower of Christ, I've noted that point and, with God's help, resolve to apply it to my own life.

Can you hear the music today?

A Christmas Tree Tradition

Most families have traditions that they observe during the Christmas season. There are movies to watch, television specials that are just to good (or cheesy) to miss, cookies and pies to bake and deliver. Our family has several that we observe annually, almost out of habit (the good kind of habit, Nat King Cole, Bing Crosby, Ralphie, not all habits are bad).

I absolutely love the Christmas season. From Thanksgiving until New Years Day, I look at the world differently. Even though one of the most painful events in my life occurred in December (the death of my grandfather McKinney when I was almost 18), I look forward to celebrating the hope and joy that is available to me because of a life that began in a tiny Judean village so long ago.

When I was a child, it seemed that each year my parents always had our Christmas tree up and decorated on my birthday. In reality, that wasn't likely foremost in their minds, but hey, what's a December baby to think? So, since this year will be the first since 1984 that I haven't seen my parents on Christmas day, I decided to honor the memory of my childhood by taking care of the tree for my birthday. After MUCH searching, we finally found a tree lot in Cobb county that wasn't asking for a second mortgage to purchase a live tree. Ashleigh went with me and we found the perfect (in my eyes) tree. I guess she thought I was a little nuts when I teared up as we headed home with our prize.

Yesterday was my birthday and I began decorating by stringing lights and hanging ornaments that include baby pictures of our precious children. In the fading light of the late autumn afternoon, I switched on the lights of the tree and just sort of stood there. I suppose that I teared up again, recalling Decembers of years past, missing my family and friends back in South Carolina.

You know, standing in the glow of a Christmas tree is special. The evergreen tree itself brings to mind the perpetual, unfailing love of God. The bright lights remind me that one day the kingdom of this world will become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever.