A "right" perspective

Two years ago last weekend I moved here to marry my wonderful bride. I gave up my job, moved away from friends, family, and ministry commitments that meant a lot to me. But I did all this knowing with absolutely no doubt whatsoever I was moving to a place God wanted me to. One of the very first things I did after I got here, was what most men would do when they inherit another person's place through marriage, I started cleaning out the garage and making it my own. I started getting rid of things that needed to be tossed, organizing things that needed to be organized, and putting my stuff into what was to become (my garage) as Dale put it. That first day in this process I took a 4FT. X 8FT. piece of pink Styrofoam insulation board and one of those really big chisel point, black felt-tip markers and wrote in letters large enough to see from across the road the same words spoken long ago by Abraham, which have now become my words also; ”As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

I figured some of Dale's family and friends saw that primitive looking declaration hanging boldly from the rafters of the garage and said, who they heck is this nut, but I didn't care. This was between me, and God just as it had been between Abraham and God centuries before. It was about establishing the right perspective for our home and our new marriage. That insulation board now resides above the ceiling of the addition I built onto the rear of our house last year. Years from now when our old farmhouse is being torn down someone will find it, and they'll learn all they need to know about the lives of the folks named Sharp that once lived here.

Last Monday I could barely move a muscle. My body was so weak I felt completely lifeless lying on the sofa in my office. Finally I made the call, a call Dale never imagined me making. I asked her to come take me to the hospital. For those words to slip through my lips, things must be really serious, and she knew it. Moments later she arrived and I crawled to my hands and knees then barely made it to our pickup which she had parked directly in front of the doorway of our office building.

I had spend almost the entire night before in our bathroom. Several times collapsing onto the cold floor with a towel covering my shivering body. My intestines were trying to expel the bacteria I had taken in through some tainted hamburger meat earlier that day. It was a violent battle which left me completely spent and my body nearly in shock. The other problem as I saw it, I had far too much work to even consider not going into the office that morning. So I showered and headed out hoping to find the strength to at least get four or five hours of work in. The truth is, I may have gotten thirty minutes of actual work completed before the eruption hit again. The battle raged on for another hour or two, then I found my way to the sofa. Two to three hours of nothingness had passed before I made that fateful call to my wife.

And that was about as good as it got last Monday. The next seven hours were spent in the emergency room of a nearby hospital. Bag after bag of fluids began to refill my completely dehydrated body, but a bigger problem was beginning to service. I thought it only lasted a couple hours, but Dale tells me it was nine long hours where I had little to no blood pressure, as the numbers declined hour after hour. For a guy who has had a long history of high blood pressure the thought of having readings in the 40's and 50's for hours on end is unfathomable. I'll admit, laying there somewhat aware of what was going on, yet unable to physically react, the thought that this was getting pretty serious crossed my mind a time or two.

 As I told my brother yesterday, I got to the point where I was so concerned I wouldn't be walking back out of that hospital I actually broke down and gave Dale the combination to the safe in my office. He laughed, as did I, but it certainly seemed that bad for awhile. Some time around midnight as I recall I was taken to the ICU unit and hooked up to every piece of monitoring equipment they had on hand. I hate even the thought of being confined to a hospital bed, and this was a worse case scenario, as it looked like a long term predicament. The pain in my stomach was growing with intensity to say the least, yet not wanting to slow down the clensing process the decision by the medical staff to not give me anything significant for pain, wasn't one I agreed with, but I understood.

The next morning (Tuesday) things were beginning to stabilize a bit with my blood pressure and the immediate danger seemed to have been conquered. I was glad to look up and see my friend, and Pastor, Bob Bryant coming into the room. He's one of those folks that has the power of the Holy Spirit inside him and it simply invokes an air of calmness when you're in his presence. I felt completely at peace as he visited and prayed with me that day. Then a few hours later his Father-in-law, also my friend Rev. Bud Jones came in and we did the same. Brother Bud Jones, now there's a man of great spiritual power. A long time, and very respected Christian leader in our community. I always think of the story Martin Luther supposedly told when I think of Brother Bud's steadfast faith and confidence in his Lord and Savior. As the story goes, Martin Luther was awaken in the middle of the night with an overwhelming sense there was someone in his bedroom. He looked up and through the darkness found a shadowy figure standing at the foot of his bed, yet with an eery illumination he recognized the person as none other than Satan himself. Martin Luther gathered a bit of awareness from his half-awaken mind and nonchalantly said, “oh, it's only you” then he rolled over and went back to sleep. Now that's having the right perspective on things! That's Brother Bud in a nutshell!

That afternoon my Brother-in-law Bill stopped by on his way home from work and had prayer with me also. Though sadly as it is to say I've never told him how much I respect his ability to see through situations at hand and understand how God is working His will into our lives. I have great respect for Bill, as I do for my other two visitors that day. What a blessing it was to have three such solid men of God travel to my bedside as God lead each one to remind me that He's truly in control of all things, and I am indeed His. Three mighty men, all with the right perspective about life, themselves, and most importantly about God. I spent that evening laying in bed, even with bells, whistles, and alarms sounding left and right from the monitoring equipment feeling much more at ease than the two nights before. As a matter of fact I was actually able to catch some of the replays of the college basketball tournament games from the weekend before.

I don't know if you keep up with March Madness like I do, but boy this year's tournament has been a wild one! Sixty-eight teams began their quest for a National Championship and for the first time in many a year, no clear cut favorite still stands going into the final weekend. As a matter of fact, the four teams remaining are the most unlikeliest of survivors to reach this level in a single season - ever. Two teams from small and mostly disregarded leagues, and two major conference teams - yet none were given much chance of making a run at the title this year. Butler and VCU are as unlikely opponents to face each other in the Final Four as there has ever been. VCU was one of the last teams to even get invited into the tournament, (prior to the expansion of teams this year to 68, they would not have made it) and many, including myself questioned the committee's choice of the Rams over some more deserving teams.

Although Butler made it to the championship game last year, most everyone outside of the state of Indiana simply wrote this off as a lucky fluke as they would never make it that far again. At least not in my lifetime. The Bulldogs making the championship match once, more less, twice was a rare as a hundred year flood. And even though Connecticut plays in the most noted of all conferences this year seemed to be another down year for the Huskies after not even making the tournament last year. Optimistically they were seen by most experts as a possible 9th or 10th team selection from the Big East going into their own conference tournament. Then there's the Kentucky Wildcats - winners of numerous National Championships. The thing that made this year's team from Lexington an unlikely candidate to hoist the trophy was the fact they lost all five starters from last year's team to the NBA draft. They got beat numerous times throughout the regular season which seemed to prove over and over this was a rebuilding year, and not the typical Kentucky power-house team. After-all no team has ever lost all five starters, then contended for the championship the very next year. It just doesn't happen!

So, for these four teams to still be competing after all the highly ranked, and decidedly favorite teams have long packed their bags for spring break, it has the college basketball world buzzing with excitement in a way I've never seen before. This year's tournament has a lot to offer. If for no other reason, most of us love to cheer on the underdogs of the world and this has become a real-life version of the movies the Hoosiers, Rocky, Facing the Giants, and Rudy all rolled into four college basketball teams set for a showdown in Houston, Texas next weekend. It doesn't get much better than this! March Madness indeed!


I suspect the truth is, if you were to ask any of the players and coaches from these four teams if they're surprised to be on the threshold of a National Championship, I doubt any of them would say, YES. You see, these teams didn't just show up out of nowhere two weeks ago and began playing good fundamental basketball. NO, they've been working their way to this point since October 15, 2010 when the rules say they can begin team practice with “Midnight Madness.” There's been day after day, night after night of two, and three practice sessions. Long drills, film studying, and walk-throughs for every member still wearing a uniform at this point. They've been tried and tested for this time, this opportunity, this tournament.

These teams didn't just stumble onto the Final Four stage out of obscurity, NO, they determined their way to be here way before you or I ever gave notice. They set their eye on the mark, they trusted in their coaches, believed in each other, and stayed together on the pathway, the only pathway that was going to lead them to the prize - a National Championship. In other words; as far as basketball is concerned; they have maintained a right perspective from Midnight Madness to March Madness and it has paid the dividends needed to achieve success this season. The next three games should be very exciting to watch, for enthusiast and novice on-lookers alike.


Back to my story: On the orders of a concerned doctor I was transferred to a bigger and more equipped hospital in Birmingham Tuesday afternoon. One thing I know for certain, when you get admitted directly from the backdoor of an ambulance into a surgical intensive care unit, there's the reasonable expectation that crosses everyone's mind that surgery is a real possibility. In my case though, it became a game of wait-and-see hoping the medication and fluids were going to cause a response from my body before they brought out the steak knives.

On Wednesday the pain was getting more and more excruciating! The waiting continued throughout the night as family, friends, and yes even strangers prayed for my situation. I had family members out-of-state waiting for a call that would lead them to jump into their vehicles and head this way. I had dear friends like Linda and Fran that had come in from out of town to be with me and Dale during this ordeal. Everyone was encouraging me to hang in there, and quite truthfully, that was about all I was doing at that point. Then it happened! Around 3am I nodded off to sleep for what seemed like the first time in forever and God spoke!

As I slept, that pink insulation board with it's simple but powerful statement came into my vision as plain as daylight. It floated in front of me like a set of sheets on a clothesline as I read it over and over in my dream. Then I heard God said; “The battles you face these days were won long ago when you made a commitment to serve me.” He gave me a good reminder of what was already the right perspective I choose to live by!

Throughout the rest of the night my body started reacting to the medication as the doctor's had hoped it would. By the time Dale and my friends walked into my room Thursday morning I was sitting in a chair determined to leave that ICU room behind me that day. Sure enough just a few hours later they transferred me to a regular room, then out the front door the next morning. I'm back at the office this morning where I'm writing this blog, alive and well, knowing that God's hand never left my body at any point last week, just like He promised in His word. His WORD is where the right perspective about life comes from. It doesn't come from fortune cookies, horoscopes, tea leaves, psychics, teachers, preachers, politicians, motivational speakers, the wise old men at the barber shop, or even basketball coaches. It comes from God communicating to us His will.

From such an unusual week last week I was reminded; Whether you're in a hospital bed, on a basketball court, going into a new relationship, or running a business, having a right perspective on things will make all the difference in the world to your situation. You can't wait until you get into a tough situation and then all of a sudden try and tie on a right perspective, like it's a life line. No, it doesn't work that way. Just like those four teams playing in Houston next weekend couldn't have spent all season long playing rag-tag, undisciplined basketball, and then when tournament time began, start playing disciplined, game-winning basketball. Nor can we with how we live our lives. These teams would have never even made it to the tournament if their commitment to having a right perspective was only circumstantially driven, which is exactly how so many of us live out our lives, as well as our so-called faith.

Just as it is with our lives, our jobs, our relationships, our ministries, and projects, our faith. Trust me, having a right perspective is what wins championships, it's what develops great companies and ministries alike, and I'm convinced it's what catches the eye, and the heart of God – but you've got to be committed to it. He reminded me last week not just what is written on my heart, but also what's written on a piece of pink insulation board above the ceiling of our house as well.

I know that I know I am His!

I hope you have a great week, and let's all try and stay out of those hospital beds and by the way, Go Wildcats! doug

Comets, shooting stars, and stuff like that.

I had planned on sticking my head in the office door, introduce myself, offer up a business card, and get back to the truck. After all, I had done the same about a dozen times that morning in Cullman Alabama, and it seemed to be working quite well from a time management standpoint. A more personal follow-up call the following week was my game-plan to get my private investigator's foot into this new market of attorneys. But, this office turned out to be quite a different story. Although I was impressed with the very expensive looking doors at the entrance I hadn't a clue as to who he was, other than according to the sign, he was an attorney. My ignorance was soon erased.

Directly inside the door was a seemingly friendly lady who smiled as she accepted my card, and apology for interrupting her day - then back out the door I headed. That was until an elderly gentleman looking about 80ish, (standing all of about 5' 10” or so, and 190 pounds) stuck his nearly bald head into the room and questioned his secretary as to what I was doing in his office. I waited not, as I introduced myself to who I figured must have been the big cheese around the place. As Tom sized me and my modest business card up and down I commented on something or another hanging from his wall, and as they say, we were off to the races after that.



More than an hour passed and he had barely let a second or two go by without words. His downtown office was huge. Room after room all connected by a long narrow hallway with his personal office being up front with a view of the sidewalk and main street traffic. Each and every wall in the place was covered with memorabilia, photos of various kind, and bookshelves loaded with a little bit of everything.



They are photos of Tom with presidents, millionaire business men, dignitaries of all sorts, and sports figures the world over. As he put it, this is indeed a museum of sorts. We made our way from room to room and finally the tour concluded in his personal office. There he showed me various items from a lifetime of success and fortune. He showed me a video where one of the national television companies is working on a news piece about his amazing ventures. He has apparently lived a life so chocked full of experiences that three men could have shared them and been seen as above the norm.


The Cullman Comet as Tom was called, way back in his high school football days. Apparently, no one could catch him, much less tackle him. He was the hottest thing since sliced bread to come out of that neck of the woods he modestly admitted with a grin the size of Texas. He grew up a scrapper in the neighborhood, and there weren't nary a boy that could lick him. He was offered many opportunities to play ball in college, but his heart was set on playing for the Rolling Tide of Alabama. Yet, his only offer to play for his state's school came from an assistant coach that had traveled to Cullman to see him play one Friday night. He invited the kid to come to spring practice for the University of Alabama after his senior year in high school, with the guarantee if he didn't make the squad they would pay for his bus ticket back to Cullman. That was good enough for him to turn down all the other offers.



So he hitch-hiked the hundred miles or so, and showed up for practice just knowing he would make the team. Yet, as he put it; there's a big difference in getting knocked around by the boys in high school versus those big ol' college boys. Long story short, after about four days of hard drills he didn't make the team, so the next day he sucked up what was left of his pride and headed over to the head coach for his bus ticket home. The coach told him, that he had never even seen him on the practice field and he sure in hell wasn't going to pay for a bus ride to Cullman.



Devastated, the kid hitch-hiked all the way back up to Cullman hurt, mad, embarrassed, and determined. It wasn't long afterward though he accepted a scholarship to play football and wrestle at the University of Chattanooga, so off he headed. He told me he remembered thinking that the best thing about playing at U.C. was that they played the University of Alabama every year and he surely had something to prove to the folks in his home state. Now, never mind you that the University of Chattanooga had virtually no chance whatsoever of beating the power house team from Tuscaloosa, but he was determined that their coach would know he was on the field each and every-time they played.



Four years of college quickly came to a close for him with many, many accolades. He had become a multi-year All-American in wrestling and was unquestionably the most valuable player on the football team while there. The real reward for all his hard work and determination came after a hard fought ballgame with Alabama his senior year, as they held the Tide to only six points. When the teams met at center field after the game the Alabama head coach headed straight toward the kid and handed him, (an opposing player) the game ball for his outstanding play - the first and only time this has happened. The ball is sitting on a bookshelf in his office today, as I had the pleasure of holding it as he shared that story. The next year he joined the coaching staff at the University of Alabama for newly hired head coach Paul Bear Bryant. This I also believe, since I saw the team photograph, and sure enough there he was ginning like a possum.



After Tom's stint as the strength and conditioning coach at U. of A. he took to the road again as he became a professional wrestler and boxer. He showed me picture, after picture, magazine article, after article of the many headliner fights he had in both sports. Even at 5' 10” he was still considered a giant in the sport of professional wrestling for several decades, although I must admit he did look pretty small in the photograph standing next to Andre the Giant. He went on to tell me stories where he fought battles in some of the biggest areas in the country. Madison Square Garden in New York and the newly built Astrodome in Houston just to mention a couple.



Leaving that part of his life behind he took to the job of getting his law degree and afterward the townsfolk of Cullman convinced him to throw his hat in the ring of politics. It wasn't long before the ol' Comet became a highly respected member of the State of Alabama's legislative body, and was elected by his peers to hold the position of Speaker of the House. Yes, I saw the pictures, articles, awards, and certificates verifying all this this too, and much more. What an amazing story! I was absolutely mesmerized by this brisk walk through the highlights of his life that I completely lost track of time. I would've stayed two more hours, but just as it was getting good I remembered Dale was sitting in the truck waiting for me to take her to lunch. She wasn't nearly as impressed with his story as I was, but she finally forgave me for forgetting about her, and we moved on to eat a bite.



Today, Tom, his wife and all of their children are attorneys in Alabama, and I suspect a few of his grand-kids will follow in the same profession as well. Football player, wrestler, coach, politician, celebrity, legislator, attorney, husband, father, grandfather – boy what a life he's lived. He indeed appears to be a bright and shining comet moving slowly across the horizon of mankind.

I don't know if I'll still be around in 2061 when Haley's Comet returns for it's 75 year rendezvous with Earth, but I suspect even if I am my eyesight will be so bad that I'll miss the celestial spectacle. What makes comets so memorable for many is the length of time it takes them to pass through our solar system. It's not one of those things you have to be outside at a certain time and place to catch a glimpse of or you'll miss it. Reoccurring comet's such as Sir Edmond Halley's most notable one takes months to cross our pathway, so even the most causal viewer can take in it's splendor once or twice before it disappears again. Now, shooting stars are a whole other creature all together. They are only for the lucky ones that happen to be outside, viewing the night's sky when just by chance they get the opportunity to catch the sight of a one streaking across the darkness. In my life I've only seen a few, but apparently I've missed many, many more. Actually they're not stars at all, they're meteoric dust and debris burning away as it passes through earth's atmosphere. Most of this debris comes from the trail of a comet as it orbits close by sun. So in other words,' a so-called shooting star is merely a speck of quickly dying, flaming bit of dust in comparison to the magnitude of a orbiting comet which can last for thousands of centuries.



I think our lives can be seen in a metaphorical comparison in so many ways to comets and shooting stars. If I were to ask your family, friends, co-workers if your life could be described as a comet or a shooting star, what would their reply be? For most of us, I guess we would more than likely fall somewhere in between. As someone rightfully commented; life is brief, like that of a shooting star across the night's sky. As I get older I understand this more and more. Life is truly but a breath. So if by becoming a comet I get to last a little longer, I'm all for it.



The way we live our lives reflects in the memory to those we leave behind like the tails of a shooting star or comet. If we live out a life that truly mimics the one God designed for us to live, then I suspect our tails will be seen for years, decades, and centuries long after we're gone. The Bible is full of comets - Abraham, Moses, David, John, Paul just to name a few and their stories take up books, not chapters or mere versus to tell. Ever noticed how the lives of all the comets in the Bible are laid out before us in full detail. Their impact, their message, their good and bad habits, their wrongs and their rights, and we've learned through their stories what sets them apart from the shooting stars of their era was their willingness to obey God's calling for their life.



And, I might add, none more so than Jesus himself. The brightest and shiniest of all comets - the bright and shining star. The tail from His comet is still as visible across today's sky as it was two thousand years ago, yet He was a man that lived in a very tiny region of the world. The tail of His comet is called the Good News, and here's the Gospel in a nutshell. He wants us to accept Him as our Lord and Savior, then live out a life as only a comet can for Him. It's as simple as that.


Speaking of this, last year while in the city where the great Motown star, Wilson Pickett (one of my all time favorite musical shooting stars) was born I ran across a historical marker just outside a cemetery that not only caught my attention, but my heart as well. It read:

Almost two years after this man's passing the town's people still thought enough of him to have the memory of his service to his fellow man memorialized at a city council meeting. Now, that's a comet folks! That's having an impact on those around you! Just like Jesus, you don't have to fly half-way around the world to have a global impact on this world.


 When I saw this sign I thought of how I'm living my life and I asked myself what if my hometown put up a sign saying how I treated others – what would it say. Will the city of Cullman do that for their favorite son, The Comet, I don't know but I think maybe they should. I do know this, through all I've learned, there is a distinct difference in comets and shooting stars. One lives out their days focused intently on trying to squeeze every ounce of life from the vines. The other lives out their days trying to squeeze every ounce of their own life out to offer up to others. One much more resembles Jesus than the other.

One's a comet, to be remembered and gazed upon for a long, long time, yet not for what they do, but for how closely they have imitated Christ. The other is a bright and shining star, or (speck of debris as NASA declares) crossing mankind's skyline, unfortunately soon to be forgotten. In my opinion, both are spectacular to witness, but only one will have a lasting impact on the lives around us. You see, (and I'm simply guessing here) I suspect comets don't waste a lot of time worrying about how they'll be remembered, they just go about their business doing what comets do – simply reflecting the (sun) Son toward all those that gaze upon it.

The photograph at the top of this article is an historical marker as well, dated September 28th 164 BCE in Babylon where the story of Haley's comet was written in cuneiform on a clay tablet. Thus, giving further proof that the tale, as well as the tail of a comet takes a very long time to fade away. Be it a comet named Haley, Jesus, Carl Stewart, Tom, or just possibly you or me......... doug