Miss Cooky (with a y) Lundy has seen a lot in her 83 years—she’ll be 84 on Halloween. The Senior Saint has endured open heart surgery, the installation of a pacemaker, blood sugar issues and, two years ago, a broken leg. Ever since Covid arrived, she’s felt the need to listen to worship services on her car’s radio while sitting in the church parking lot. She’s estranged from her only child, two grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren, and lost her beloved husband Paul eight years ago. 

Her scars run even deeper. According to Jenna Fairbrother, a first-time volunteer with the Churches of Christ Disaster Response Team (DRT), Miss Cooky carries considerable baggage. “I was blessed to spend the day with Miss Cooky—my first DRT assignment. She’s originally from Fort Pierce, Florida. She and her twin were the youngest of six siblings, but her twin died at nine months, around the same time as her father. She never knew either of them. She was abused by her mom and grew up thinking the wrong twin had died. Her mother didn’t push back on that narrative and said young Cooky ‘wasn’t valuable.'”

Miss Cooky’s low self-esteem improved some when she fell in love with and married Paul Lundy, the love of her life. Their relationship was partly motivated by Cooky’s desire to get away from her family who wanted to have her committed. Paul was a trucker and the mechanically-minded Cooky helped him maintain his semis. Their first few years were rough because, as Cooky puts it, “He didn’t know how to love me. That took time.”

The two moved from Florida to Valdosta, Georgia, nearly 40 years ago and purchased a house that was built in 1863. All of its pieces were hand cut and her husband remodeled the home—added plumbing, installed a bathroom, and made other improvements. The couple lived there together for over 30 years, secluded in a forest, and filled the place with memories. Sadly, he died eight years ago and Miss Cooky’s world was once again turned upside down.

“I used to sit on the front porch and watch the road, waiting for my husband to come home. And finally, I had to tell myself, ‘Cooky, he’s not coming home. He’s gone. You’ve got to get your life together and go on with it.’”

Cooky’s attempts to move on with her life were dealt another blow when Hurricane Helene roared through town on Friday, September 27, 2024. Helene, the deadliest hurricane to strike the mainland U.S. since Katrina in 2005, took the lives of 228 people (and counting) in the United States, including 33 in Georgia. In Valdosta, terrifying winds of 100+ mph ripped off roofs, mangled metal, and tore up signs. More than 115 structures were severely damaged or destroyed.

Sadly, Miss Cooky’s home was not spared. The awful storm dropped a 42-inch-wide tree on top of her house, crushing her kitchen. The impact destroyed her roof and drove some of the piers that hold up her house deeper into the ground. She was home at the time but, thankfully, God spared her life. 

In the immediate aftermath of the storm, Miss Cooky once again became depressed. No one from her local congregation showed up to help her. (In their defense, the storm knocked out power and wreaked havoc on nearly everyone, so there was a lot of scrambling going on in those first couple of days.) Eventually, an unnamed team arrived to remove the tree and jack up the floor beams to level the house again.

She also heard through the grapevine that the Churches of Christ Disaster Response Team was helping storm victims in the area. When she heard that they could rebuild her kitchen and roof for free, she assumed it was a scam. She contacted a member of her church family who did some research and concluded DRT was legit.

John Albright, a DRT Coordinator for the past eight years, visited Miss Cooky with the necessary paperwork and got a tour of her damaged home. He told her, “We can do this, and it won’t cost you a thing. I’ll have the lumber here tomorrow and will line up a crew. DRT can tear down that wing of the house and rebuild the kitchen and roof and make it whole again.”

Miss Cooky frowned. She explained that her late husband had put his heart and soul into that home. It was, in a sense, an 1860’s shrine to him. It represents him in a very real way to her. She didn’t want anyone removing the remnants of her kitchen. That would be like taking her husband away again.

The DRT crew arrived a couple of days later and determined that they could save her walls. They chained those walls to a truck and pulled them forward to attach to new beams. They added new braces and ceiling joints. In the end, the DRT crew saved two-thirds of the original walls, clapboard siding, and even the square vintage nails. Seeing the finished product, Miss Cooky was more than a little chipper.

She told John, “Before the storm, I was feeling depressed and helpless and down. And y’all just showed up out of nowhere. My friends are telling me that what I’m seeing is an outpouring of love from God and I need to recognize it. Y’all are just like angels God has sent to me. You have healed my body and healed my mind and I feel so much better… because you guys are here helping me.”

John, recalling a devo that morning from Ephesians 2:10, told her, “Miss Cooky, we are God’s workmanship—His very best creation. He was at the top of His game when He made humankind. And He made us for a purpose—to do good works, which He has prepared in advance for us to do.” About that time, a gentleman from Miss Cooky’s church stopped by to donate to DRT. “Y’all are helping Miss Cooky, so we want to help you.” Another unexpected blessing in a week full of them.

After spending time with Miss Cooky, Jenna said, “DRT taught her how to give and receive love. Before that, she was only good at giving love. I can relate to that. I have my own family baggage, and I’m in therapy… I don’t mind you sharing that. I’m working through the 12-step program. One of my issues is allowing myself to receive love. I’m better at dealing with other’s trauma and emotions than my own. Maybe God called me to serve in Valdosta so I could meet, encourage, and be encouraged by Miss Cooky.”

John added, “Prior to the storm, she felt worthless. We have touched this woman and we have brought her back from the emotional brink and that is so much of what we want to do. The devo that morning gave me just the right words to say to her. That’s not coincidence. That’s God at work. And He’s at work all the time. I’m telling you, Steve, God’s at work here and it’s super obvious to me. You can’t mistake it.”

Another DRT group from Pennsylvania visited Miss Cooky and learned that her refrigerator was malfunctioning. She said, “Even before the storm, it wasn’t working right. After a few days, my food got slimy. I haven’t been eating too much.” She told Jenna she had lost 15 pounds over the past few weeks. She apologized for not having her teeth in because her dentures no longer fit her mouth. So, the Pennsylvania team bought her a new refrigerator and a hot plate. Problem solved.

John, tearing up, commented, “These are the things you hope for. I come here and pray and ask God for things, but I don’t always see the results. The people we help may not have an epiphany until later, if at all. She’d been real upset—thought her church had forgotten her. Thought the world had forgotten her. Thought she had no value. I think we helped change that perspective and that’s about as rewarding as it gets. As I said goodbye to her…” John wiped his eyes again and gathered himself. “She handed me a memento—a square nail from her home.”

Before Jenna departed, Miss Cooky asked her, “Is it too late for me?”

“No, ma’am. You can always learn to receive love—I’m learning that lesson now, just like you. It’s hard to fill another person’s cup from an empty cup.”

“I’m almost 84 and alone. Do you think I still have a purpose?”

“I know God has a purpose for your life, Miss Cooky. There’s a reason he spared you from that storm. Just today, you’ve had a wonderful impact on me.”

Miss Cooky looked around at her new kitchen and wiped tears from her eyes. “Look at my castle, just look at it. But Paul’s not here to enjoy it.”

“That’s true,” Jenna replied. “But you get to enjoy it. You deserve this house. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not valuable. You are more than worthy.”

Hurricanes and other storms often bring death and destruction. But out of the devastation, God’s blessings emerge. James 1:2-4 reminds us, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

I suspect, this week, Miss Cooky, John, and Jenna grew in their faith, becoming more steadfast, perfect, and complete. Even in a storm, God is faithful.

“Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.”  – 1 Thessalonians 5:11

David Schilling, a local youth minister, stepped onto Knoxville Christian School’s gymnasium floor to conduct chapel. As impressionable students looked on, he retrieved a beach ball and unrolled 30 feet of butcher block paper. He invited his son, a student at the school, to attempt to roll the beach ball the entire length of the paper without it going out of bounds. His son’s first attempt rolled halfway down the paper and then veered off to the left. His next try went two-thirds of the way and then faded off to the right.

Despite his son’s lack of success in completing the challenge, David made the task even more difficult. Halfway down the paper, he tore it in two and put the second half of the pathway at an angle. Unfortunately, his son’s third try was his worst yet. His ball was unable to negotiate the turn and once again went off course.

Life is like that. With all the twists and turns, staying on track seems impossible. There are temptations and bad influences all around us. We face unanticipated hurdles and roadblocks. In 2 Timothy 4:7, the Apostle Paul tells us, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” As difficult as it is to stay on the straight and narrow path, how can we follow his lead and finish the race?

With his son holding the beach ball at the starting line, David invited the entire 1^st-grade class to join them on the gymnasium floor. He distributed about a dozen pool noodles to these students and asked them to sit along both sides of the butcher block paper—his son’s path. On his son’s fourth attempt, the beach ball went straight for several feet, and started to veer, but was kept on the path by an eager first-grader clutching a pool noodle. At the tricky turn, another student used an elbow to redirect the ball and keep it on course. To the cheers of the delighted crowd, the ball eventually crossed the finish line, and David’s son raised his fist in victory.

The note from the margin reads: The Christian journey is too difficult to travel alone. Christians need fellow Christians armed with elbows and pool noodles to help keep them on the path of faith. Those nudges are necessary though not always pleasant or appreciated at the time. Other times, Christians need to be the ones offering encouragement to help a friend finish the race. Today, let’s grab our proverbial pool noodles and look for someone to encourage and nudge along to the finish line.

“For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.” – Romans 1:20

Do not let the things you cannot understand overwhelm the things you cannot deny.

Electricity is fascinating to me. In high school Science, we studied the attraction of protons and electrons. A colorful diagram showed electrons moving around. Somehow, that energy moves to conductive wires and travels into our homes and businesses. I can’t explain it. If you handed me the necessary supplies, I couldn’t replicate it. Though I don’t fully understand the wonder of electricity, I can’t deny it. Evidence of its existence is all around me.

Yawning is another puzzling phenomenon. There is no universally agreed-upon theory for why we yawn, even though we all do it. Our best scientists have also been unable to prove why yawning is contagious. When we see someone yawn, we tend to follow suit. Though I don’t fully understand yawning, I can’t deny that it’s real.

There are plenty of things I don’t fully understand in the realm of religion and faith:

1. How was Jesus fully human and fully divine at the same time?
2. What exactly will Heaven be like? What will we do all day?
3. How does God’s providence work? Why does He seem to answer certain prayers but not others?
4. Why do we still feel guilty after repenting?
5. How does our triune God function as three persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit?

My inability to fully answer these questions and many others doesn’t disprove the existence of God any more than my ignorance of electricity and yawning disprove those realities. The note from the margin reads: From the precise design of the universe to the intricacies of the human body, God shouts his existence. I see Him in fulfilled Bible prophecies, complex DNA code, innate moral law, and newborn babies.

Electricity exists. Yawning happens. God is real. There’s no denying these things. Do not let the things you cannot understand overwhelm the things you cannot deny.

“Be fearless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire.” – Jennifer Lee

Reach One, Teach One (R1T1) and Mi Esperanza—two missions we support in Honduras—are, on the surface, very different. They have different missions and address different underlying problems in Honduran society. However, in addition to being faith-based, they have another thing in common. Dalton Hines and Lori Connell, the respective founders and leaders, are dealers in hope. In myriad ways, they help the men and women of Honduras develop marketable skills, a sense of purpose, and hope for the future. Hold that thought.

Forty-one years ago, Jennifer Lee was a miserable middle-schooler with divorced parents. She was, by her own account, “Always a mess. Stains on my clothes… knots in my hair… chubby. I was born into a very modest life. I was a kid with ADHD, terrible in school. I don’t think people ever thought I could amount to anything.”

Jennifer’s life raft was a VHS tape of Cinderella, rewatched daily for its pep talk in perseverance. “Cinderella was bullied severely and I was bullied. But she stayed true to herself, even when it was really hard. Something about the concept of fighting through it helped me. I think a lot of us get knocked down often, over and over again, in our lives.”

According to Catherine Shoard in The Guardian, “After a few stumbles, Lee ended up in New York with a job in publishing, a postgraduate degree in film, and a young daughter. When Agatha was seven, they decamped to Hollywood so that Lee could do rewrite work on the script for Disney’s Wreck-It Ralph. Two months turned into 12 years; today, Lee is chief creative officer at the company where she once temped. She won an Oscar for Frozen in 2014, which also made her the first woman ever to direct a film (which she also scripted) that made more than $1 billion.” 

How do you go from a young, bullied Cinderella fan to a billion-dollar boss at Disney? You work hard and you never lose hope. Jennifer lived her famous quote, which undergirds our theme for this year’s mission trip: “Be fearless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire.”

The Apostle Paul had that fearlessness. In Ephesians 6:19-20, he writes, “that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.” Paul could have asked for many things, including release from prison and creature comforts. Instead, his heart and mind were focused on his responsibility to be an ambassador of the gospel. He wanted to share the Good News boldly and clearly. Through words and deeds, Paul’s fearlessness and hopefulness were on full display. Throughout his ministry, Paul’s soul was on fire.

Our goal on these mission trips is not to turn the people of Honduras into billionaires. No, we’re striving for something far more ambitious and significant. We’d like to see more Hondurans become self-supporting, productive members of society and, ultimately, Christ followers. That same goal has Dalton and Lori in a lifelong pursuit of what sets their souls on fire. They are fearless dealers in hope. 

We should be too.

“Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men.”   – Colossians 3:23

Steve Harvey shares an oversized truth using the minuscule flea. According to Mr. Harvey, fleas have a 36-inch vertical leap, which is higher than the average human’s leap. 

If you capture a flea, put him in a mayonnaise jar, and put a lid on it, the flea will attempt his usual 3-foot jump. Over and over, he’ll keep jumping and keep hitting his head on the lid. But after a while, after getting knocked down repeatedly, the flea adjusts. He begins to only jump to where he won’t get knocked down. His lid—his environment—now has him jumping not nearly as high as he could.

The flea sires a flea family, who join him in jumping just shy of the jar’s roof. That’s all they know—they’ve been born into the conditions of their environment. Despite having 36-inch vertical leaps, they duplicate Dad’s behavior. The fleas never reach their potential.

Some of you may have been born into mediocre environments. Perhaps your family’s church attendance was a sometimes occurrence, so long as other higher priorities didn’t get in the way. Maybe “punching the clock” was the goal, rather than being actively involved in ministry. Perhaps your teenage siblings and closest friends were all sexually active. That low standard of behavior was the norm in the environment you grew up in. You assumed that’s what all teens do.

Perhaps you came of age in a mediocre church environment. The worship felt routine and passionless. If the Spirit was present, He was confined to the pantry. The Christians around you seemed to approach faith like a country club membership. You showed up, followed a lifeless routine, returned home, and then repeated the process. There was no sense of urgency in reaching and impacting the community, much less the world. Your Christian “role models” were content to jump only to the top of the spiritual jar, so you followed suit.

Steve Harvey concludes, “Until you take the top off your mayonnaise jar, you’re going to duplicate your surroundings.” The note from the margin reads: We mustn’t allow ourselves to be limited by the mediocre spiritual environments we grew up in. We must work heartily for the Lord.

It’s time to overcome our imperfect pasts and blow the lid off our faith! It’s time to let God help us reach our full potential!

“Is that a real airplane?” Ana shrieked, as she plastered her face against the backseat window.

“It is,” I replied. “That’s a fighter jet—an F-86 Sabre. It used to fly but now they have it on display.”

“Can I get a picture with it? Is that allowed? Please!”

“Sure, we’ll stop after lunch.”

“Awesome! Hey, look, Derek! There’s another plane! Can we get a picture with that one too?”

“I suppose so. Sure. After lunch.”

Moments later, Ana rose from her enchilada plate at the McGee Tyson ANG Base Dining Hall and walked over to a young, uniformed Airman. He smiled, nodded graciously, and posed for a picture with her.

We’re going to get kicked out of here, I thought. 

She returned to the table with a grin from ear to ear.

“He was so nice! And cute! I got a picture with him.”

“We saw that,” I replied. “Now, help yourself to seconds if you want. It’s all-you-can-eat, even the dessert bar.”

“Really? Wow! This place is amazing!” 

Ana’s head remained on a swivel, overwhelmed with the sights and sounds. As we exited the Dining Hall, she spotted the Missing Man Table.

“What’s the deal with that?”

“That’s the POW/MIA Table. It helps us to remember prisoners of war and troops who are missing in action. Each item on the table is symbolic. They put the table here to help us remember those who aren’t with us.”

“That is so cool! Look at this table, Derek! It’s for the missing troops. Can I get a picture with it?”

“Sure, Ana.”

We said farewell to the rest of our lunch companions and drove to the field with aircraft on static display. Ana hustled from the car to the F-86 Sabre, with Derek (cancer survivor, multiple sclerosis, stage 2 kidney failure) struggling to keep up.

“This plane is amazing! Look how shiny it is! Where should I stand?”

“Perhaps over by the wing.”

“Okay, can I get two pictures? One with my hair up and one with my hair down?”

“Sure, Ana.”

I’d never been asked that before.

After more pictures—hair up and hair down—with a nearby F-104 Starfighter, Ana wanted more.

“Can we drive around the base? I saw some fire trucks earlier. And some helicopters.”

“Sure, Ana, that will be fine. We’ll find them.”

I realized my 1:00 p.m. NFL game-watching plan was now in jeopardy.

Ana and Derek are friends, fellow Christians, and special needs adults. I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know them this year, of studying the Bible together, and of giving them rides to church from their group home. Two weeks ago, Ana asked me to assist her with getting baptized. She now regularly texts me with questions like, “How do I know if I’m gossiping?” “Is it okay to go to a haunted house?” And “Are there any available young men at church?” I may give her Janet’s number. 

Ana’s joyfulness and curiosity were on full display during our Sunday afternoon at the Air National Guard base. She was a 20-year-old in a candy shop with an appetite for everything in the store. I’ll admit that her enthusiasm was contagious.

You see, I grew up and spent most of my life living and working on military bases. The sound of jets flying overhead, and the smell of flight line fuel are familiar. I’ve landed and taken off in a war zone and accompanied my dad on countless tours of the massive C-5 cargo plane he used to pilot. I’ve eaten in enough all-you-can-eat military dining halls to no longer be impressed by them. While I appreciate our troops in uniform, I don’t need to pose for pictures with them. I’m also not compelled to take selfies with military jets, retired or otherwise. 

I’m afraid my familiarity with all things military has cost me joy and curiosity. It’s just another plane, just another meal, just another troop in uniform. I’m finding a benefit of growing older is you gain wisdom and experience. A downside is that extraordinary things can become, well, just ordinary. You’ve seen it all. You’ve done it all. Like Solomon contemplating the monotony of life, you conclude, “There’s nothing new under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes 1:9)

And then on a beautiful fall day in East Tennessee, God sends an Ana into your life to help you rediscover joy. You see the familiar—a military base—through a new lens. You re-experience life’s sights and sounds not through old, tired eyes, but a new set of eyes. Ana’s eyes. You contemplate the impressive design of the F-104 and imagine traveling at 1,688 miles per hour! You thank God for a $6 all-you-can-eat buffet—a rarity these days! Rather than pass by a familiar POW/MIA Table, you pause and remember the sacrifices made by others so that we can be free. You say a prayer for the families of those who never came home from war. You take a moment to thank our troops in uniform and pick up their tab at a restaurant. 

What extraordinary things in your life have become routine? Your spouse? Your children? This morning’s sunrise? The mountains in the distance? Your observance of the Lord’s Supper? How about your ability to travel, to love, to digest food, or even to breathe? Folks, those are extraordinary things! They are gifts from God!

For the rest of 2023, at least, I’m challenging myself to rediscover joy. To see common things for the gifts they truly are. To see the world the way Ana saw that military base. To find “everything new under the sun.” To appreciate the familiar—friends and family, the upcoming holidays, and life’s other blessings—like never before. 

I’m going hunting for fire trucks and helicopters.

And when I find them, I’m taking selfies—hair up and hair down.