November 15 '97
Volume 76
The Sansing Appeal [Insights Into]
Ever so often, a business situation
results
in an opportunity to mix in a helping of pleasure. I recently had the
opportunity to work in the SUPERVALU store of Forest, MS, for a few days.
It was my pleasure to visit with Gordon and Elese Sansing for a couple
of hours during one evening of my stay in Forest. I finished my work
at the SUPERVALU store before 5:00 p.m. and attempted to contact Gordon
at the Baptist Church. I was informed that he was out of town. My
initial concerns were that I might miss seeing this special family, but the
party on the other end of the phone line stated that he felt the Sansings
would be back later that evening.
After finishing an evening meal, I phoned the residence of Gordon and Elese
and was promptly invited for a visit. Don't you enjoy visiting with
folks who know how to make you feel as though you were at home? I soon found
my way to their spacious home on Azalea Drive and was greeted warmly with
hugs of friendship.
[Chord Resonated In My
Soul]
The Sansing family has had a special place in our family's hearts since early
in their ministry in Pontotoc back in '76. Our children and their children
were approximately the same ages, so we watched them develop socially and
educationally during their early school years.
If I could use but a single word, one that stands out in my mind when I attempt
to define that which characterizes the "Sansing Appeal," it would be the
word humanity. I always knew that preachers were human, so I was not
shocked to learn that Dr. Sansing as well as his family were human.
However, it was his unpretentious, humble spirit illuminating his humanity
that I felt drawing me closer to him. (You have to like a pastor who
holds a doctoral degree and insists he is more comfortable being addressed
by his first name.) Here was a man, every bit as godly as any pastor I had
ever known, but also one not ashamed of his humanity. Such qualities
struck a chord that resonated in my soul. At first there was a single
instrument, a single chord, bold, full, and stronga sound such as G
major on a flattop guitar. As our friendship deepened and I discovered
more and more thoughts and ideas that resonated a commonality between us,
the sounds within me became orchestral.
Apart from generational bonds and similarly structured families, we shared
a love of fishing, hunting, and golfing. Couple all the above with
the common desire to grow spiritually and intellectually, and you can understand
how broad based our friendship became. It is a friendship we have
maintained through the years, though many miles separate our respective families
and our visits which are at best infrequent, are nonetheless cherished ones.
Whomever stated, "Behind every great man is a woman," probably didn't know
Elese Sansing, but would surely have been as inspired had he known her. I
have not mentioned anything about Gordon that could not also apply to Elese,
save perhaps the part concerning the recreational sports. I find in
Elese a perfect complement to her spouse, a model of stately dignity tempered
by a great sense of humor, and a kindly, loving friend. It follows
then, that you may well imagine I relished our time to visit.
I did not begin this article intending to praise this special family, however
I hope you do not mind my divergence. I felt it an integral part necessary
to allow you to view the evening visit from my perspective.
Ours was a good visit. We discussed and reminisced of friends both
past and present. I found myself without any baby pictures of my new
granddaughter and word pictures cannot describe her. About the only
time I ever wish men carried purses is when I need to show off family photos.
35 mm prints are just too big to fit in a man's billfold. Elese
commented that she thought my granddaughter's parents had chosen a fine name
for their baby girl, Meridith Elese Adams.
This reminds me to inform all readers who may have difficulty knowing how
to pronounce Merilese that Rayanne explains, "Think of Merry Christmas, and
say Merry Lease."
Adding to the goodness of any evening visit in a friend's home is the
introduction of refreshments. Once again, Elese did not disappoint
me and offered coffee and cake. Both were splendid, even if the coffee
was decaffeinated. I thought about getting Sarah the recipe for the
pound cake, but abandoned the idea upon learning the cake was not baked in-house.
Elese explained that the cake had been given to them by a friend.
If you are wondering why I considered obtaining the recipe for Sarah and
not for Barbara, I shall try to briefly explain. Barbara already makes
a good pound cake. Sarah used to, but after my telling her the last
one she brought over to the house tasted like cornbread, she has been a little
miffed. (Trust me. Honesty is not always the best policy.)
Before leaving the Sansing home and returning to my motel room, I was given
the grand tour of the house. The house is owned by the Forest Baptist
Church and had been refurbished for the Sansing's arrival earlier this year.
The house I previously described as spacious, borders on palatial.
The single level structure has a living room larger than some houses
in which I have lived. Even if I have exaggerated a little, I am sure
you can imagine the largeness of the room. After seeing 4 or 5 rooms
and navigating a hallway or two, I lost count of the total number of rooms
and bathrooms, and I was not certain I could return on my own to the den.
Fortunately my guides were well qualified to see me back to my point
of entry. Shortly after the tour of the house I said good-bye to my
cordial hosts and drove back to my motel room.
Driving back to the main highway, I decided to count the streets that exit
from Townsend Street to see if Gordon's directional instructions were correct.
He had told me that I would take a left on the sixth street after I turned
onto Townsend. I attempted to count the streets when I first drove
over to his house, but the intersections were not very well lit and I had
difficulty determining the difference between streets and driveways. He
had also told me that the streets were named after flowering shrubs or trees
such as dogwood and azalea. After I passed the first two streets that
were named after presidents, I was about to retrace my route when the names
suddenly changed over to the plant kingdom. As it turned out, I found
Azalea Drive was the sixth street, just as Gordon had described.
Official Notice
This is an official notice. I ain't moving any more boxes or furniture
for anybody between now and 1998. And, with the Good Lord willing,
I ain't moving anything in 1998. Between moving my mother-in-law to
Pontotoc, my sister buying a home and relocating, my daughter wanting to
rearrange everything in my home and my sister's home, and the formal emptying
of the contents of the rented storage building to my carport and Sarah's
out-building, I intend to rest awhile from a year filled with relocating
the possessions of others.
Saturday, November 01, was a pretty busy day for me and a couple of other
folks. When we moved Lillie Belle to Pontotoc, she had planned to locate
in one of the Senior Citizen Apartments. We stored her furnishings
in the largest size rental facility available, and put her up in our house.
However after a few weeks of living the good life, Lillie Belle accepted
our offer to board in our house. From time to time we would go to the
storage building to get something that Lillie Belle needed, so it was slightly
emptier than when we first filled it.
Lillie Belle has been anxious to empty out the building, sort through the
remaining boxes, and determine what to keep, what to discard or sell off
in a yard sale. It goes without saying that she would also save some
money in the process. I had been putting off the job of emptying the
building until the weather cooled off somewhat. I found the weather
on Saturday was not as cool as I would have preferred, but at least I did
not suffer from heat exhaustion.
I really needed a pickup truck for the moving, but I decided to begin moving
all the small stuff and boxed stuff into my carport, transporting it in my
car. The task required several trips. Yet, because the storage
building was less than a mile away, it did not eat-up a lot of drive time.
Rayanne and Merilese had spent Friday night at our house, and Anson
was scheduled to arrive Saturday afternoon. Since I needed a truck,
Anson brought over his dad's truck to help with the washer, dryer, couch,
recliner, and other large items.
Sarah had long ago volunteered the use of her outhouse (No, not that kind
of outhouse, a storage building or outbuilding.) to store anything that could
not be wedged into a place in my house. While I waited for Anson to
arrive in Pontotoc, I decided to check out the available room in Sarah's
outhouse. (Upon proofing this section, Sarah wanted everyone to know she
does not call it her outhouse.) I was glad I did check out the outhouse,
for she and Brett had set a few things inside the building in a less than
organized way. I know Brett was in a hurry to get out of the building,
because it had old wasp nests in the rafters. In his mind there might
still be a wasp around the place. I spent a good thirty to forty-five
minutes rearranging all of their belongings on one side of the building.
About the time I finished the project, Sarah walked down the hill to
check on what I was doing. After explaining my actions I told her about
the bigger project I had going and invited her to stop over and help with
the unboxing at my house.
Anson arrived around 3:00 p.m., but Rayanne carted him away with her to exchange
some gift items, a necessary chore, but one that consumed valuable daylight
moving time. Uncertain of how long my son-in-law might be detained,
I tapped Barbara to assist with loading some of the remaining items at the
rented storage unit. We had just begun to unload, the items in our
carport when Anson and Rayanne returned from Rayanne's run.
The next two loads, the heavy stuff, were trucked to Sarah's outhouse.
When we had put away the last, a mattress, we both agreed that the
building was filled. It might hold a few small items, but had there
been another appliance or piece of furniture, there would have been no room
for it in the outhouse. Daylight was spent as we drove back to my house with
head lamps shining in the dusk of evening.
It was approximately 8:00 p.m. when Sarah began to assume the task
I had invited her to perform, helping unbox some of the items in the carport.
The dinner table had been cleared of our dinner's leftovers and dishes,
a load of dishes were being washed in the dishwasher, and Rayanne had once
again found something to rearrange. Most all of Lillie Belle's dishes
and cookware were in the boxes in the carport. I began to bring inside
these boxes, and Sarah and Lillie Belle soon had the table laden with glassware,
stoneware and cookware, and set-about-ware. Rayanne had directed
Felicia to empty the bottom of the hutch, a work now in progress. A
notably, slow progress, for Felicia seemed more interested in the contents
of the hutch than boxing them up.
By 10:00 p.m. Barbara's nerves were gone, and someone noticed she,
too, was gone. We found her in the den watching TVat least we
thought she was watching itshe was staring in that direction.
Chaotic conditions and/or clutter tend to take their toll on Barbara,
not unlike a parked car with the headlights left on and the battery being
slowly drained. We recorded one casualty and went back to the kitchen.
"You surely don't want to keep this," one of us would say to Lillie Belle.
More often than not her reply would be, "Well...that belonged to...," and
then we got to listen to the history of the item and why for sentimental
or other reasons it remained important to her. As a result, the pile
of things on the table grew alarmingly faster than did the box of items to
throw away or the box of items for a later, carport sale.
By 11:30 p.m., I could not find anything in the kitchen cabinets that Rayanne
had rearranged. Now, the hutch looked more like a an antique dealer's
display of vintage glassware, chinaware, and cut glass. Yet, you would
admit that Rayanne had done a good job with the arrangement. It was
time to shut down our activity and get to bed, else none of us would be able
to get to a house of worship on Sunday morning. Rayanne and Anson decided
to spend the night at our house rather than drive back to Belmont.
Merilese found she had slept enough, having spent the past couple of
hours asleep on the stomach of Felicia, who was also asleep on the floor
of the living room. And, at 12:30 a.m. I surrendered the chore
of rocking and feeding Merilese to her dad, who I later learned did not get
her back to sleep until three a.m. Except for Merilese and Anson, all
the household was asleep by 1:00 a.m.
Over the course of the evening several boxes of carport merchandise had been
properly disposed of, though enough boxes remained to give Lillie Belle something
to do over the next few weeks. Between now and the last Friday in November
the remaining boxes and any reboxed keepsakes will be stored in the attic.
The day after Thanksgiving is the day Felicia has mandated as the day she
will put up our Christmas tree, so since I will have to go to the attic,
I may as well clean out the boxes in the carport.
Bodock Beau
Believe it or not Beau heard another true tale concerning religious humor.
"Kid's Say The Darndest Things" was a book written by TV's Art Linkletter
many years ago. The title is timeless, for in any generation, kids,
because of their limited knowledge of language, really do say some of the
darndest things.
It seems that a working mom was getting her five-year old bedded down for
the night. (We all know children that age play hard and sleep hard.
When they get ready to sleep they can go to sleep anywhere.) Mom listened
carefully as her daughter, Julie, began her bedtime prayer. She carefully
remembered to thank God for her parents and grandparents, but cut her prayer
time far short of the usual. It was her habit to express thanks for
everyone she could remember at bedtime, as well as for the trees, birds,
etc.
Mom realized that Julie had prayed a much shorter prayer, and as she tucked
the bedcovers around Julie's small frame, she reprimanded her for neglecting
so many persons and things for which she was thankful. The response
from Julie, had a tone of apology, but is best described as words adults
speak that come back to haunt them.
"Moma, I'm just too damn tired!" exclaimed Julie.
Beau said he was reminded of how hard it is for Christians to live in the
world without becoming worldly.
Beau also noted, "The speech of small children is often seen as an image
mirroring another person and is but a reflection of that to which they are
exposed."
Since Beau was using French, I hope I translated his quote correctly.
Christmas Memories
During the month of December, RRN would like to publish articles submitted
by readers that relate to Christmas. RRN is particularly interested
in the most memorable childhood Christmas experienced by a reader. If,
instead, you wish to write about a memorable Christmas you have had as a
parent please do so. Any memorable Christmas that someone in your family
has had is also considered appropriate.
Make Christmas special for someone, this year, by sharing one of your Christmas
memories.
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