The colors of things yet to be seen

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As I drove through the mountains last fall looking at bright yellows, deep reds and variety of greens and browns, I felt a warmness coming over me beckoning back to my childhood riding in the back seat of my parents blue 1964 Chevy Malibu as we made our way through the mountains heading to who knows where.

The adventure of travel was something that we all enjoyed, trying to find something we had not seen, something that would be an experience we could share throughout our memories.
I don’t know what it was that made those trips through the hills and hollers in full color that drew me into a sense of security while yet being awed by the change of the seasons enveloping us.
As we drove I would watch the leaves whisk around in our wake as the car sped through the countryside, often as we would unexpectedly swoop over a hill I would feel my stomach jump like being on a roller coaster.
If we travelled into the night and the temperature began to drop, I was allowed to curl up in the floorboard near the heater vent and I would drift off to sleep until my father scooped me up in his arms and took me into our destination for a night’s rest. Today, I know that is something children will never experience and probably for safety reasons for the best.
We would roll through small town after small town sometimes stopping for a visit, sometimes not, but eventually our journey would take us to somewhere we had never been before.
In a way, I guess in the modern sense this was the pioneering blood deep within our spirits that inspired the need to see something new. Unlike a generation before when travel meant horses, wagons or even train trips, if you could afford it, we were blessed with affordable gasoline and the advantage and freedom of travel by automobile as far as the roads could take us.
Unlike our forbearers, we weren’t the first to see a thing unseen by previous frontiersman, but still there was a sense of the unknown especially for me as a child.
I guess that has never left me, even as I pour over faded photos of those trips, sights that are now just a memory, I still feel that exhilaration, I see the sights through the window of that Malibu.
Even today with the higher cost of gas and travel, I still feel an excitement when I slip behind the wheel and head off to some place I have never been before. The same is true for spring and summer excursions across the country. Although after years of travel as an entertainer, I have to travel much farther away to see those unknowns but I still seek the sights.
As you travel, I hope you and your family and friends, find new sights, make new memories, and are blessed with the beauty of America byways!

 

 

Seeing Faith

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Seeing Faith is Randall’s Summer 2024 book release.

Seeing Faith is a 30-day devotional study in which Randall shares 31 of his messages.

To these have been added pastoral studies with scriptures and questions. Seven pastors join Randall on this project.

The book will be a great study for any Sunday School class or special prayer group.

The price will be $16 plus $5 shipping.



Seeing Faith

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Group orders will be available at a discount, so please e-mail for cost orders of 3 or more with special shipping rates.

A portion of funds raised from the book will benefit the Share America Foundation, Inc. and its Appalachian musical scholarships.

Order in advance above or reserve your copy or a number of these expected for release June 1, 2024, send an e-mail asking to be notified when it becomes available to rfrankscatoosa@gmail.com .

Reaching back to push forward

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Life is something that we should cherish with every passing breath. Often times we do not appreciate the simplest things like the feel of cool breeze on a hot summer day; the taste of a fresh glass of homemade lemonade so cold that the outside of the glass drips; the deep red color of a vine-ripened tomato as its thinly sliced for a tomato sandwich slightly smeared with JFG mayonnaise.

This morning I have pondered along with some of my fellow writers what common ground there is between the generations of Americans that now bind us as a people. At one time it was our country’s deep agricultural heritage, the connection to the soil and what through sweat and hard work it could provide for both the sustenance and financial gain of the family.

Generations of Americans even those that lived in the cities, depended upon family farms to provide what our country needed to survive. In my lifetime, we have seen much of farming shift to larger business concerns and there has been a generation, possibly two, of individuals which have no close connection to the land, they didn’t grow up on the farm or even spend days helping their grandparents haul hay, cut okra, pick tomatoes or pull corn.

So what does this mean for the future of our country, for the preservation of our lifestyle and the heritage of our communities? Are we destined to one-day build museums dedicated to the preservation of subdivisions? What values of history are we giving the current generation? Will they look back at a tractor and ask, “What’s that?”

With generations of Americans who have little or no practical daily connection to the land, how will they sustain themselves in an emergency such as the upcoming worldwide medical pandemic that is being heralded by the media? What happens when milk can no longer be sent from the far off mega-farms of the west? I bet there aren’t many households that have shelves lined with canned goods enough to get the family through to the next growing season, as was our ancestors’ custom. What will happen to a generation with no food because there will be no way to move it from place to place?

During the worst period in this country’s history, the Great Depression, even the poorest farmer, who was not devastated by natural disaster, had some amount of food to eat. Thousands of people who lived in the cities were able to receive food in soup lines because many farmers were able to keep working the land and caring people were willing to help those in need. They all had a connection to the land.

If our state, our county, our community was totally cut off from the outside world could we survive? Do we have a plan in place to feed and meet the needs of our population? Could we create the items needed for day to day life? Do we have the people who have the knowledge to do that?

While I’ll say that I believe that many leaders have considered the possibility, I do not think that we have a plan in place that could keep our state or county functioning on its own. It will take a joint effort at a local level, community to community, neighbor to neighbor, to see that each family or person makes it through in such a situation.

Will America ever face some catastrophe that will throw us backwards in time wishing that we had a few acres to plant potatoes and a milk cow to provide some milk and a horse to ride to town? I don’t know but even if it didn’t, it probably wouldn’t hurt if everybody knew how to dig taters, which part of the cow the milk comes from and how to get it to come out and just how do you get the key in a horse’s ignition and more important where are the brakes on one of them things. Just kidding, of course I know where the brakes are.

Do I have the answers as to what the future will be like, of course not, that is only in the Hands of God. Do I have a hope as to what I would like it to be? I certainly do.

I see an America that is covered with strong communities of caring and loving individuals who give their neighbors a helping hand when its needed. They go out of their way to help pick up a man when he is down, brush him off and help him along life’s road.

I see an America where greed and crime is something that exists only in the minds of creative novelists and film directors instead of the eyes our fellow man. I see an America where you make choices that are good for all the people not just a chosen few. I see an America where when a leader actually stands up and says something he or she actually believes rather than what the public wants to hear. Where his or her words of inspiration can actually mobilize this country towards a common good of creating a world that will be something our future generations can build from rather than have to pay for.

I see an America where each community is capable of standing on its own using the talents of its citizenry and the abilities of its businesses and industries no matter what the country as a whole may have to withstand in its future.

My friends the future of America is up to each one of us, its not just the job of Washington, Atlanta, Chattanooga, the guy next door, its not just the job of the woman down the street, it takes each of us working every single day improving our community as a whole by stepping outside our comfort zones and reaching out to make a difference.

It is up to us to have our own lives prepared for emergencies and to work with our local leaders to make sure that plans are in place. It is only through preparation that we as individuals or communities can reach out and help others, secure in the knowledge that our own families and communities are safe and adequate supplies are available to meet the needs at home.

Will this generation and those that follow be less because they are further removed from America’s roots? I think as long as our society continues to head in the same direction, each generation will make their way into the brave new world but it’s the what ifs that sometime worry me and make me thankful that God is in control. But even with God’s control He expects all of us to do our part. Perhaps getting closer to and understanding the role that the land plays in our lives and making sure that that role never vanishes might be one way we can improve our little corner of the world.

Learning to be a host

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     The sun swept across the dark wood floor forming a light spot in the shape of a heart that I noticed as my mother buzzed around the room with dishes in her hand setting the table.
On the kitchen stove, pans were gurgling as meatballs simmered in a sauce, angel hair pasta boiled with a hint of basil filling the air.
The evening was close at hand and she was expecting the neighbors over for a light spaghetti dinner and an evening of cards and conversation.
In the fall prior to election, the conversation often leaned more to political strategies of mustering the neighbors and friends to get out and campaign or vote for one of the candidates my mother was sold upon, After election, the dialogue kept to local gossip and plans for the holidays.
For me an evening such as this meant I would be relegated to the children’s table for supper and the other children and I would be occupying us in another room with a board game of some nature.
While I didn’t mind these evenings generally. Unfortunately, often times my mother’s friends had an abundance of female children. While I guess that wasn’t unfortunate to them, for me, that meant in addition to being relegated to eating with them at the children’s table and minding my manners, I would have to mind my manners all evening as we played. With the girls, there was no running like wild Indians, no rough housing, we played civilized games such as Go Fish, Monopoly, Operation, Life or whichever board game suited my guest’s fancies.
Cheating was out of the question in these circumstances. I was the host; I had to make sure everyone was following the rules including me. This action sometimes got me into some very heated discussions with my guests. I realized that sometimes girls were not the frills and lace I was led to believe as some of them would get right mean when they didn’t get their way.
If it had been a guy, we could have settled our differences with a short wrestling match or a few exchanged fists, with the victor getting their way in the disagreement and the game continued. You couldn’t do that with the girls. They might have won and then I would have never heard the end of it. Of course, I am kidding, I was taught not to fight with a girl, even though a few of them needed a whoopin’, I would have to leave that to their folks.
Now that is not to say a girl didn’t hit me a couple of times in these engagements. They did and then they would escape to the safety of the living room where the adults were engaged in civilized pursuits.
Did I ever do the same, well, let’s just say, I usually found a way to get even by pulling a return prank of some description.
After all it was my job to see all the kids had a good time. If one was acting out of line, thee best way to accomplish a good time were to bring the askew kid back into plum with the rest of us. Sometimes that took some creative comeupens.
Despite whether my guests were female or male, I did always enjoy these times when I was asked to entertain. It was an opportunity to learn some of the basic expectations for treating friends in your home,
So friends, have you taught your children and grandchildren how to be a host. Not just a friend but also a host in their home.
Depending on your customs and traditions, such a skill can lay the groundwork for opportunities in which they will serve both in their lives and at work.

Overcome the news, look close to home

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If you watch a lot of news reports, especially since many stories air over and over again at noon, 5:00, 5:30, 6:00 and 11:00, you may soon come to believe that the world is in terrible trouble. Violence, crime and tragedies permeate everywhere you look. How many of you have asked, “What is the world coming to?”

I have heard that one of the first things some therapists do to treat depression is encourage the patient to stop watching the news. Amazingly, it often helps.

People often carry the weight of what they see and hear in the news with them. They worry about the family who lost their home to a fire, the child who disappeared from his home, the children of a mother killed by a drunk driver, the elderly woman who was the victim of a robbery, and the victims of plagues or violence of war.

Have you ever heard someone say, “People just don’t care about others anymore.” I think some do not, but the majority of people does care. I think people earnestly care, but often do not know what to do about it or do not think they have the time.

In my past career as a journalist, I had an opportunity to read through a volume of news, good and bad. There were a number of tragedies in the pages, sadness because of loss of family and friends, crimes throughout our county and the like.

Also within those pages were stories of people who do care. People who went the extra mile to make a difference. People who were honored with awards for their service. Public servants who try their best to serve the people to the best of their abilities.

Where I have found the greatest nature of caring is not in the big headlines and the artistic photos but within the community calendar each week. There are organizations needing volunteers to help relieve many of the horrors that are reported on the evening news.

I would like to encourage you to take the time to read these. You can make a difference right in your hometown. It might be something as little as buying a suitcase to donate through to a new foster child so he/she will have a place to keep their belongings rather than in a paper sack. It might be giving time a Literacy program to help someone read, or just to watch folks children while they learn. It might be giving blood to help an accident victim. It might be cleaning out your closet to donate items that can be used by someone else, which provides help to area families in need. These are just a few of dozens of groups and organizations that are included in community calendars. By sharing a few hours a week, or just an hour every now and then, you could really make a dent in making our world a better place.

Life is only made better by the efforts of the hands and feet of those that care. Our world is filled with worries, concerns, problems that we cannot solve. Within our abilities maybe we can make a dent in a need near our home. We generally cannot even aide in the issues that fly across our screens as thanks to connectiveness we are visually able to see misery at the four corners of the earth. But at our own back door, through our own windows the needs are great and we can strive to one by one make those needs evaporate.

I hope all of you can find something within your local news that makes you feel good about the community you call home. I hope the good news within these pages always outweighs the bad.