It has been six months or longer since I have driven through Collins, GA. I need to go and see my only living uncle and aunt soon. When I do get to go see them, I always like to drive through Collins. One of our fine deacons, Kevin Wilcox, has a brother that has lived in this little town for a good while. Collins is a small spot in the road with one flashing light. As a little boy, my mom and grandmother would “go to town” and most often they would take me with them. I was around four or five years-old when memories of Collins first began to stick in my head. As I write this little blog today, I still remember the many of the stores on the main street. This biggest store in town was Joseph Evans Furniture. At the crossroads, where the caution light was, Mr. Taft ran a gas station. I’m pretty sure it was a Standard Oil station. He’d do oil changes, wash windshields, check your tire pressure, and pump your gas. He was always nice to me. He lived in the brick house right across the road. However, my favorite two places in town were these. Behind Evans Furniture was a Five and Dime Store. My mama would give me a little money, and my first stop was the Five and Dime. I would walk those aisles looking for great treasure that was sure to make my young life fun and exciting. After spending part of that money at the Five and Dime, I’d go across the main street to “The Drug Store.” In that store you could get milkshakes, root-beer floats, or ice-cream cones all while sitting on stools that would spin around like a ride at the fair. I love those memories.
Today, Collins doesn’t look like it did back in the day. The happening spot in town is the Dollar General. It sits pretty much right where Evans Furniture Store sat. Mr. Taft’s service station doesn’t look the same. The service bays are gone. It is now called Charlies. They still sell gas, but you pump your own. They also sell fried chicken and burritos. My Uncle Wallace had a mechanic shop which he operated for decades. The sign is still on the building, “Wallace Jarriels Garage,” but the doors have been closed well over a decade. The building the Drug Store was in still stands but it is empty and run down. As I ride by these places I think, “I wish someone would do something with these buildings and make some wonderful memories for another little boy or little girl like I had as a child.”
Do you know about Stuart Hamblen? Do you know who he is? You may not, but if you have been around for a minute or two, you’ll know a song he wrote. It is called “This Old House.” Another memory from my childhood is hearing southern gospel quartets sing this song. My parents loved gospel quartet music, so that meant I had to listen to it. In his song, he uses an old house as a metaphor for our earthly bodies. Listen to some of the lyrics I have cherry picked from the song:
“Well, this ole house once I knew my children
This house once I knew my wife
This ole house was home and comfort
As we fought the storms of life.
This ole house once rang with laughter
This ole house heard many shouts
But now it trembles in the darkness
When the lightnin’ walks about.
Well, I ain’t a gonna need this house no longer
Ain’t a gonna need this house no more
Ain’t got time to fix the shingles, ain’t got time to fix the floor
Ain’t got time to oil the hinges nor to mingle windowpanes
Ain’t I gonna need this house no longer I’m gettin’ ready to meet the saints.
I have a feeling I will be singing this song all day today since I have included it in the Friday Blast. But time marches on and things change. Today, at 11 AM, there will be a funeral in Lawrenceville, GA. Mrs. Vindetta Wade will be eulogized. I have known Mrs. Wade for the better part of 40 plus years. Her husband, Thurmond, was one of Bro. Richards dearest friends. That is how I got to know them. Her middle son, Darryl, and I worked together almost the whole time I have known the family. Her baby boy, Daniel, is a faithful member of CBC. Mrs. Wade would often travel to mission fields with her husband. She raised four children. Hundreds of missionary wives looked to her for support and counsel. The old house she lived in is now empty. Her soul and spirit are with the Lord, but that old house is now lifeless. I ask you to remember this.
“For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens…For we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened: not for that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life.” (II Corinthians 5:1, 4).
Every one of us, no exceptions, will travel this path. If Jesus tarries His coming, the teens in our youth group and the children of Sunday School and Awana, will all travel this path. They can’t understand that now, but it will happen. One final thought. Notice the promise in our passage. “We have a building (a new house), not made with (human) hands, but eternal in the heavens…mortality might be swallowed up of (eternal) life, (immortality). One day the bodies we possess won’t wear out or constantly hurt. The moans and groans will be over, and we’ll praise Him and serve Him forever. Amen.