Friday, October 30, 2015

Rev. Lewis R. Perry


II Timothy 4:7
I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful.

The man in the picture above died when I was three years old, yet somehow I think there is a connection between him and me that goes beyond blood lines.

The man you see is Lewis R. Perry, my grandfather, my mother's father. He was a preacher/teacher/pastor of the old school kind.
I don't remember much about the man...stories that have been passed down from my family. I have his pocket watch and some of his sermon notes. Not much value to some people, but to me they are a treasure beyond anything I could ever imagine. 

My mother told me that He would take that watch out, open it and place it on his knee, and that I would come over to him and lay my head down on the watch so I could hear it tick. 

I do know that two of the churches he served were New Liberty Baptist in the Painter Community (up on Sand Mountain) and Cherry Street Baptist in Attalla. A friend of the family, Bro. Lee Gibbs, had a reel to reel recording of my grandfather preaching. I would have loved to have heard that recording just to hear what he sounded like as he taught the word of God. Somehow the tape got misplaced and was never seen again.

When my mother married, she was not able to have children (at least that is what the doctor's told her). Well in 1942, my brother Wayne was born, and nine years later in 1951 I came on the scene. On the day of my ordination as a minister, my brother told me a story that I had never heard before.

Since my mother's father was a pastor, she wanted a son who would follow in his footsteps. I can only imagine the grief she carried when told that she would never be able to have children, and then, 7 years later be told that she was pregnant. Of course back in those days there wasn't any way to pre-determine the sex of the baby before it was born. So when my brother was born it only added to her joy. But for whatever reason, she knew that Wayne would not be the pastor she had hoped for. Call it intuition, call it a word of knowledge from God...she just knew. Now, before I write on, let me say that my brother is an incredible follower of Jesus. In fact he has his own story of an angelic visitation in the middle of the night where he was given a message concerning his own life and future. But I'll save that one for another time.

My brother shared with me the events that took place on the day of my birth. My mother almost died giving birth to me, but the grace of God saved her. The nurses finally brought me to her, and as she held me for the first time, Wayne said she looked at me and said, "Now I have my preacher." Did she really know that my life would take that path? Somehow I think she did. I know that such things sometimes seem beyond the realm of possibility, but n this case, I was called to follow that path into becoming a pastor/teacher. I can honestly say, without any doubt, that I enjoy moving under this call more than any other thing I've ever done.

Part of me would like to know what my grand father thinks about the whole ReCovery Church model. I would love to sit down with him and ask him questions about his own calling. About the struggles and triumphs he and grandmother faced during their time here on earth. I guess the good part in all of this, is that I will get to ask him those questions at some point in time. I'm looking forward to a real family reunion when my time is through here on planet earth. 

Thank you, Lewis R. Perry, for the legacy you left me. I pray that I honor the God I serve, and you as I move through my days.

God on you..
michael b.

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