The Journey of Charles Coghlan

Charles Coghlan was born in 1841 on Prince Edward Island to a poor Irish family. Neighbors helped him get a good education, but after school he decided that he wanted to be an actor.

Infuriated, his father disowned him and Charles left home to pursue his career. One day he visited a fortune teller who told him that he would be very famous but die in the prime of his career. His soul would never rest until it was buried on his home land of Prince Edward Island.

Charles did become a great popular actor of the late 1800's traveling the States entertaining audiences all over. In the late 1800's he came to Texas and ended up in Galveston. One night on stage he collapsed and died. He was buried on Galveston Island in a lead lined coffin in 1899. Then in 1900 a great hurricane engulfed Galveston Island killing thousands, destroying homes, ripping up trees and uncovering graves. One of those graves was that of Charles Coghlan. Charles' coffin was washed out into the Gulf of Mexico by the waves that overcame the island.

The coffin floated in the salty waters of the Gulf, making it's way around the Florida Keys and into the Atlantic Ocean. The coffin took an eight year journey from Galveston and up the Atlantic coast line, until one day in 1908 a ship saw a box floating in the waters of the Northern Atlantic. Bringing the box aboard the sailors noticed the plaque on the barnacle encrusted box with the name Charles Coghlan. The ship that found the coffin was just off the sandbar coast of Prince Edward Island. Charles Coghlan had come home and was buried not far from the small church where he had been christened as a baby.

Legend or fact this story does have a good point about the journey we all must take before we can truly rest. That journey is life itself. Life is full of ups and downs, twists and turns and can be very stressful at times. The one thing that a Christian has over the world is that he or she has a rest to look forward to in the future and no matter where life takes us we will eventually end up resting in the arms of God.

One nice thing to is that God takes care of us as we make this journey even though we may not know how to get there. "I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; " Is. 42:16

The People in My Church

If you're looking for a church home or just one to visit I thought I'd let you know what kind of people you can find when you come to Southern Hills. It always helps to know something about a group before you walk through the doors, so here are my observations.

When you come to my church you'll find several hypocrites. Then there is just about every sin represented that you can think of. We have liars, cheats, alcoholics, gossipers, complainers and short tempered people just to name a few. There are different viewpoints on just about anything you can think of and some very strongly opinionated folks that hang around. We have people who have been divorced and people who have been in prison. We have people whose marriages are struggling and who are having difficulty raising their children. If you come to my church you'll find a lot of imperfect people.

So if you are looking for a church to visit that is full of perfect Christians you probably should just pass us by. That's one thing you won't find here.

But if you decide to stop by what you will find are a lot of imperfect people who want their lives to be more like Jesus. You will find everyday people with everyday problems who know that the only solution is to turn their lives around to be like our Savior. They do not profess to be better than the people on the street, but do proclaim that they want to be better than they are now.

If you stop by you'll find people who will accept you and love you because they know we all have struggles in our lives. Nobody is perfect. Nobody is without fault. Nobody can stand up and say they have never failed their Lord. At my church there are people of all areas of life with all kinds of struggles who just want to do better.

So if you want to find a place where people are just like you. If you want a place where you can be loved and accepted no matter what has taken over your life. If you want a place where you will see people of various colors and races, people with suits and street clothes, people of all classes of life, people old and young and people of all education levels mingling together, worshiping together and loving each other for whose they are and not who they are then you might want to stop by and give us a try.

I remember the story of a man who had the opportunity to see what Hell was like. When he got there he saw a big long table with all sorts of food on it. Everyone sitting at the table were thin and starving. The reason was that they all had four foot spoons tied to their hands and they couldn't get the food to their mouths. The man said he didn't like this so asked to see what Heaven was like. When he got there it was the same scene except the people were well fed and happy. The difference was where in Hell they couldn't get the spoons to their mouths, in heaven they were feeding each other.

At my church you can be assured you will be well fed!

I Am Resolved...

As I stepped on the scales this morning the LED screen came on flickered a little then went blank. Maybe it needs a new battery I was thinking, but I stepped off and then on again. Nothing. But the battery isn't that old was my thinking so I tried it one more time. This time it worked but when it stopped on my weight I was positive it needed a new battery since the number was obviously inflated!

It's that time of year again. Everyone is making their New Year Resolutions. Mostly I see the same ones in some form or fashion: lose weight, get in shape, quit some bad habit. read the Bible daily, get organized, get out of debt, keep in touch with family, etc. The list goes on and on; same lists new year.

In reality they aren't really resolutions, but admirable goals. You see, a goal is something we want to achieve. It's something to shoot for and keep in our sights. If we don't reach it we'll try again. Every year I set goals, most of which are not kept to the one hundred percent level, but only in part. I can only remember keeping one New Year resolution in my life.

A resolution on the other hand is the way we approach our goals. We are looking for reSOLUTIONS to areas we feel we are lacking. We're trying to find a way to solve them and make ourselves a better individual. To be resolved means to make up your mind that you are going to be successful. To be resolute carries the meaning of being firm, stubborn, steadfast, tenacious and unwavering.

The reason we don't keep our resolutions is primarily because we don't have a resolute attitude. Many of us start out and then get the "loser's limp". You know what that is don't you? You've seen it. You watch a race and see an athlete who sees that he is going to lose usually in an embarrassing way so to save face he reaches back and grabs the back of his thigh as if he's pulled a muscle or maybe she starts hoping on one foot as if she turned an ankle. The crowd responds with empathy and the athlete doesn't look so bad for not fulfilling his or her goal. They were saved by the "loser's limp".

Paul wrote to the Corinthians "Do you not know that in a race, all the runners run but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize."

As you consider your goals, if they are worthy make them true resolutions. But make the first one to be like Jesus. Then, when you have achieved them you can be as Paul when he said in a letter to Timothy "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."

As I sit here writing this and sipping on my cup of black coffee, I'm reminded of the only New Year resolution I really ever kept made some 30 years ago. No more sugar or cream in my coffee. Not a biggie, but it does show that anything we set our minds to can be accomplished and stuck with.

Have a great New Year. For me, I'm changing the battery out of my scales today.

Yes, Virginia

September 21, 1897

Dear Editor: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.' Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

Virginia O'Hanlon, 115 West Ninety-Fifth Street.


"VIRGINIA O'HANLON.
"115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET."

Thus begins the most well know editorial ever written in a newspaper. Most editorials are tossed out with the trash or end up at the bottom of a bird cage. Some of them may be stashed away for future reference, but are often lost and forgotten as generations pass. However, this one, written by Francis P. Church, over one-hundred years ago is read over and over every single year. There's at least one movie about it and thousands of printings can be found folded in books, tucked away in drawers or neatly preserved and brought out every year in sermons or parties or blogs like this one. Search the Internet and you'll find page after page of references to it with all sorts of stories behind the story, some true, some fictional, but all based on this one little letter by an 8 year old girl.

In their innocence and purity children have the uncanny ability of making adults stop and think about things they have ignored, taken for granted or about which they just outright hadn't given too much thought. How does a lightning bug make light? Where do the stars go in the daytime? Where to babies come from? Instead of letting people die and having to make new ones, why doesn't God just keep the old ones? In Bible times did they really talk like that? I was at a wedding and they kissed. Is it okay to kiss in church?

At what age do we stop believing? At what age do we quit asking questions? At what age do we just become apathetic to the world in which we live? When did church become boring instead of a chance to talk about God? When did Christmas become a chore instead of a time to which we looked forward with eager expectations? When did life become more mundane and less of an adventure?

"You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood."

Jesus told us unless we become like little children we will never enter the kingdom of heaven (Matt. 18:3). Humility, purity, innocence, goodness and seeking to learn are but a few of the traits that are a part of each at every one of us at birth, before the world starts to take hold. It is only when we begin to look at the world through the eyes of a child that we can truly see what it looks like.

Christmas is a time to think about what life is really all about. It's a time to focus on a baby born thousands of years ago in a purity that would never be tainted by the ways of the world and man. It's a time to gather again those things we lost from our hearts. It's a time to start believing again.

"This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in rags and lying in a manger."

Family Reunions

This past weekend I went to the first family reunion I had been to in over 10 years. Like many families the Minton family has always made it a point to get together on a yearly basis to keep in touch. I believe this is an important part of a family's legacy and should be a practice that every family should make a part of their tradition.

While driving home my mind raced back to reunions of years past. I remember the Fourth of July reunions that took place in I believe my Uncle Carl's back yard when he lived next door to my Granny Minton. I remember when the cousins went around to all the uncles gathering everyone's change together and then being carted off to the fireworks stand returning with a treasure box of exploding missiles, bottle rockets and Roman candles.

I thought of all the Christmas' that the family would get together in Granny's house. I remembered the joking and laughter of my aunts and uncles and the cousins racing through the house and being made sure their every need was met by Granny. I can still hear the knock on the door as my Uncle Clyde came in dressed like Santa Claus. "Where's your reindeer?" several of us shouted. Without a pause he quickly told us "You didn't have a chimney so I parked them down at the corner." Of course we all believed him.

The sounds of dominoes shuffling as my uncles played "42" at the kitchen table are still clear in my head. I see my Aunt Mary enjoying and doting over every niece and nephew. I hear the distinctive laugh of my Uncle Troy. I listened to my Uncle Carl talk about the antique Ford he was restoring in his garage. In fact as I remember it, every single aunt and uncle had a great fondness for every niece and nephew. I can still see the presents, taste the food, hear the stories, smell the tree and feel the presence of love in the small house in Dallas, Texas.

Years later as I returned it was all still there. Yes, most of my aunts and uncles are now gone, but their spirit lives on in their children and grandchildren. There were familiar and not so familiar faces yet there was still a bond that pulsated through the room. It was the bond of family. A bond of love that had been started years ago by a hard working matriarch. A woman who after the death of her husband was left with a house full of children for whom to provide. A woman who I watched iron clothes for a living at 10 and 15 cents a piece when most women her age were sitting in rocking chairs on the front porch. As I look at the house full of people I thought to myself, "What better legacy to leave than a family that continues to love each other and want to be with each other decades after you have left this earth." I felt the ever present remnants of family love that remained from years gone by.

I'm also reminded of a second family reunion. This one is not yearly but weekly. It's the reunion we have with our brothers and sisters in Christ as we gather together with Him on Sunday mornings. It's a time of joy and love provided by the our most great and wonderful Patriarch. The one who loves us and takes care of our every need. I'm reminded of the church in Acts 2. "All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved." It is there too in this setting that you will feel the presence of the love , the love of our Lord and Savior and our God, our Patriarch.

Memories and Mementos

Sitting on my office desk is a glass case with a football from the 1965 AA State Game inside. Resting on the case is a book entitled "The Best High School Football in the Country". One step higher lying on the book is a baseball glove from my little league years some 50 years ago. Move down to the desktop and you'll find a homemade paperweight with a piece of fool's gold neatly encased within its clear acrylic shell, a memory from a trip to Apache Junction, Arizona many decades ago. On the other side of the room sitting quietly on a table is a piece of the original deck of the USS North Carolina, the ship my father served on during WWII and behind it a maroon songbook from the same place and era. Turn to the right and you'll see a pink camera, one of two that were given to my brother and me as we prepared to take a family trip to the Alamo and Corpus Christi. Further right you'll see on a shelf a set of baskets that belonged to my Granny Minton.

If you come to my house you'll find hanging on a hat rack a nice Stetson hat worn by my Uncle Carl. If you'll ask I'll show you the Civil War writings of my Great-Great Grandpa Hazilip and you'll even see the shaving mug used by my PaPa Tom or the porcelain cow from my MaMaw.
On a glass shelf by the kitchen is my first cup from... well we won't go there. In the bedroom is a chair that belonged to Kathy's Granny Brew and in the den a clock left to us by her mother.

In my closet you'll find a box filled with items of days long gone past. There are letters from well wishers when I broke my neck playing football years ago. Among the other items are chin straps from Junior High and High School football days, my high school diploma and a book containing cards with my high school classmates names printed on them. Shuffle through it and you'll find a pair of cuff links (a gift from a friend), a small trophy with a plastic football that Kathy gave me while we were dating, a high school pennant and my baby blanket. Then there are the boxes of photos of our boys, family and friends, hundreds of them.

There are other items too numerous to list, but they are all reminders of good memories that have embraced me in the past. As I look at each one it reminds me of the many friends and loved ones who have been a part of molding my life. There is little or no monetary value to any of the things I've mentioned, only sentimental value. If you picked it up at a garage sale you would probably set it down and say "I wouldn't even pay a nickel for that". To me, however, they are priceless. Memories are something on which you can never put a value. They are great treasures to the one who holds them dear and close to their hearts.

Oh, by the way there is another reminder I have. I have 30 or so of them in different colors, shapes and sizes. Some of them are red, some brown, a couple are white and several black. Three or four of them are so big they are bulky to carry and one is small enough to carry in my shirt pocket. They are at the office and at home and I even carry one on my cell phone. It's God's Word. A reminder of whose I am and how much He loves me.

The Blind Side

Kathy and I go to the movies once in a "Blue Moon", so when we go we try to pick one that is worth the money and time. We decided on my birthday to go see "The Blind Side" since I had seen the story last year on one of the college football games. Since I like sports movies and especially those that are true this was my obvious choice.

Before going I did something I don't normally do and that was read the reviews. I was surprised at how many negative comments were out there by the "critics". It was criticized by some as being another "upper class showing superiority by helping a poor black boy". Some didn't like the way the characters were portrayed while others thought the story was just too "goody-goody". This is why I don't pay attention to a lot of reviews. As for this film, however there were tons more positive than negative viewpoints.

Like the movie "Rudy" this is not really as much a sports movie as it is a movie about people. It's a great movie on what happens when people decide to help someone who needs something positive in their life. This story has little to do with race and everything to do with opening our eyes to someone who is in need. You can't ignore the race factor when a young black teenager moves in with an upper class white family, the by far it's a story of someone helping a fellow human being get their life on the proper track.

I would recommend this movie to everyone. With the exception of one conversation toward the end it is good clean movie with a great lesson. It's the story not as much of a rich family helping a poor young man but of a caring family helping a homeless young man by giving him a home to stay in and the opportunity to reach his full potential.

It's the story of Michael Oher and the Tuohy family. Michael Oher was recently drafted by the Baltimore Ravens. If you've read the book, Micheal Oher has said it is pretty accurate with the exception of the book questioning his I.Q. Which I'd have to agree with him since he was able to accomplish so much. The story actually tells us that many times we are the product of our environment and a situation that leaves no room for growth.

This is the story of a young man who has shown that he is able to get his life together and move forward in life leaving the past behind. The story of a man who will not let the downside of yesterday deter him from fulfilling great dreams.

It's also the story of a family who felt moved by God to help someone in need. It's the story of what can happen in a world where people care.

If you only see one movie this year or as I said once in a "Blue Moon", I'd pick this one. You won't regret it. You might take along an extra tissue though. By the way the movie next door was "New Moon", a much more popular but I'm sure much less uplifting than "The Blind Side".

When Worlds Come Crashing Down

There are times in a person's life that are suppose to be moments of euphoria. They are those times that we want to remember and relive over and over. Maybe it was a great athletic feat that won the big game or receiving an award in front of a large assembly. It could be your wedding day or the day you went forward and picked up that diploma that seemed so far away.

To parents it's when you see for the first time that small son or daughter that has come to live in your home. We've had the privilege of going through it twice. Both times were filled with smiles and laughter. But sometimes the smiles fail to last. Sometimes your world crashes down around you.

When our first son was 5 months old, Kathy took him in for a checkup. The pediatrician in a cold way blurted out to her, "your child is severely retarded". Since he was adopted and the adoption not yet final he urged her to give him back since he'd never be normal.

When your world comes crashing down and you are only 23 and 25 it's devastating. All your dreams seem to vanish into thin air. All your plans must now take a different orbit and move off into realms unknown. You cry, you get angry, but most of all you wonder "why" did this happen to me.

But somewhere along the line you have to decide that life goes on. Decisions have to be made. New plans have to be drawn up. You have to remap your life so you can keep going. You end up relying on God more than ever.

This year Scottie turned 36. Things haven't changed much in the last 36 years except that he is bigger. His mind and abilities are very little beyond the 5 months checkup. But we've made it through. It's been tough. It's still hard. But along the way there have been other smiles.

We have another son with a loving family that brings joy to our lives. He and his wife have a beautiful little girl that will make you smile. And when Scottie laughs it makes you feel good that he's enjoying something in this life.

When our worlds come crashing down, when our dreams fade away and when life gives us more than we think we can bear it's time to step back and look again. In doing that we can go down new and different paths. We can seek out other moments of euphoria.

When our worlds crash it doesn't mean our life has to die. It just means we have to rebuild.

Nehemiah once went outside the city of Jerusalem to inspect the walls. Upon reentering the city he spoke to the people saying, "You see the trouble we are in: Jerusalem lies in ruins, and its gates have been burned with fire. Come, let us rebuild the wall of Jerusalem, and we will no longer be in disgrace."

When our worlds come crashing down, the only way we can survive is to rebuild.

On Forwarding Eamil

Hardly a day goes by that I don't get an email that at the end wants me to forward it to 5 people or even everyone I know. They come in different forms. If I really love Jesus I'll forward this email on, indicating that if I don't forward it then I don't love Jesus. Others tell me if I'm patriotic then I'll send them on. Again it indicates that if I don't somehow I'm not a true American.

Next, there's the email that says I'll have good luck if I forward it to a certain number of people. Some of them even tell me the time the good luck will happen. On the opposite end are the ones that say I'll have bad luck if I don't send it on to someone else.

I've wondered, who is it out there that is determining if I love Jesus or if I'm patriotic or how lucky I'll be or not be by sending or not sending their email? What did they do before email to show love and patriotism? I don't ever remember sending a letter to prove my love or American pride. I do however remember getting a chain letter that threatened me with bad luck if I didn't send it to 5 people. I have had a little bad luck during the past 50 years or so. I guess I should have forwarded the letter!

Just to let you know, only on a rare occurrence do I forward an email and then only after I've removed all the meaningless threats at the end. But let me tell you something. I still love Jesus. My eyes still swell with tears when I hear the National Anthem at the Olympics. I've had all kinds of luck both good and bad and suspect I always will.

Simply put, forwarding an email gives us no assurance or promise whatsoever. We can share them if we think they are good, but not link them to who we are on the inside. We show we love Jesus by how we live every day. We show we are patriotic by flying our flag, by putting our hand over our hearts during the singing of our anthem or voting for our leaders. We realize that luck, bad or good happens, but by just living a good life we'll have more good than bad.

So next time you send me an email it will probably just stop right here on my computer. But you know what? I still love Jesus and my country and I still love you.

Oh, and by the way you might check Snopes and Truth or Fiction before you send me that 3 year old email about the non-existent virus that is going to wipe out my computer!

Tapley Holland

Who is Tapley Holland? That's the question that the majority of people who read this are probably asking. He's not a household name. He was not a movie star or great sports figure. He was never elected to public office or nominated for some political post. His chest was not covered with medals, nor was he in command of a great military regiment.

Tapley Holland was born in 1810 in the state of Ohio, the son of Canadian immigrants to the United States. Tapley's family moved to Texas in 1822 as part of the "Old Three Hundred" settlers.

On March 5, 1836 Col. William Travis knew that the fate of the men of the Alamo was sealed. For twelve days they had held off Santa Anna's slowly tightening assault. Now with the Mexican army a mere 200 yards away from the Northern wall, their fate was dim. Col. Travis vowed to stay and fight, but that was his choice. On that day he took his sword and drew a line in the sand. Looking across at the 180 plus men, mostly volunteers he told them that whoever wished to stay and fight should cross the line. No man would be shamed or looked down on for not staying. All the men crossed but two. One was Jim Bowie, who lay sick on his cot. He requested that he be carried across the line and four volunteers helped him over. The other was Louis Moses Rose.

The first man to cross did it as soon as Travis made his charge. The young man was 26 year old Tapley Holland. Upon crossing the brave volunteer stated, "I am ready to die for my country". Over 180 men crossed the line knowing fully that they would die within days, maybe hours. However they took the challenge led by this brave young man.

With such great names as Crockett, Bowie, Bonham, Dickinson and Travis an ordinary soldier's name can get lost in the crowd. Yet what he did on that cold March day of 1836 showed great bravery and love for his country.

Centuries before Jesus stood before a group of hand picked volunteers and figuratively drew a line in the sand. "All men will hate you because of me, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved." They are told they will face persecution, insults and even death. Yet they accepted the challenge because they knew the cause and were ready to die for their savior.

God needs men who are willing to serve. it doesn't matter to him whether we are a leader or a follower. What matters is are we willing to make the sacrifice. Do we have the courage to say, "I am willing to die for my God?" Do we have the love to say, "I will die so that others can be free"?

When was the last time you stepped across the line?

"Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down hi life for his friends" (John 15:13).