The following are the words said during his memorial/ celebration of life… LFjr.

We are here today to do what no parent can ever really imagine. And what we are doing might be best described with two slightly strange words: Conundrum–mystery, riddle, challenge & Paradox–illogical, contradiction in terms

Today we share a conundrum and a paradox as we both mourn the loss of and celebrate the life of Braun Marshall Powell who passed Monday, June 28 at the age of 20.  He is survived by his mother Patricia Christine-Powell-Foreman and her husband, Reese Foreman; his father, Roger Lee Powell, Jr. and his wife, Marie Rose Powell; two sisters, Katie M. Powell and Amie M. Powell; two brothers, Ross M. Powell and Reed M. Powell; a half-brother, Nathaniel L. Powell; a step-sister, Dallas S. Foreman; a step-brother, Dallin R. Foreman; maternal grandmothers, Phyllis J. Whittaker and Mary Blair; maternal grandfathers, Terry M. Whittaker and Ed Blair; maternal great-grandmothers, Betty Davis and Emily Whittaker; paternal grandfather, Roger L. Powell, Sr.; and numerous aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Raising and living with a special needs child is a journey like no other. For parents it can be a lifetime of hurting and sorrow. The pain comes from seeing how much progress other children make against how little yours has accomplished. The concept of milestones and growth markers are difficult to endure. The pain comes from the well meaning words of folks who just can’t quite understand. As a special needs parent, I can remember thinking I was going to hit the next person who said “God only gives special children to special parents.” In that context, let me assure you, no Mom or Dad wants to be special! The pain comes from watching your child struggle with the desire to be like everyone else. The pain comes from the isolation child and parent often experience. The pain comes from twisted limbs and deformed joints–ours may not be the physical pain of our child, but the emotional pain takes a heavy toll. The pain of what can never be sometimes lead to anger and resentment.

Remember the conundrum? Remember the paradox? It applies here as well. Raising a special needs child is a journey like no other. For parents, it can bring joy beyond comprehension. The joy comes from a smile that can’t be much sweeter. The joy comes from a child whose nature is to love unconditionally and to give love unselfishly. The joy comes from the bond these children form with everyone who gives them the chance. The joy comes from the recognition that the simple pleasures of quiet moments and shared connections get no better than this! The joy comes from knowing without a doubt these children belong to the Lord! The joy comes from knowing Braun never spent a single day of his life outside the love of Jesus and in eternity, he never will!

Conundrum & Paradox. Paradox & Conundrum. And so today we join the Powell/ Foreman family in their grief. Because they hurt, we hurt. Because they are struggling, we struggle.

In Romans 12:15, Paul commands us to rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. 

Because you mourn we mourn with you. That’s what family does.

But there is another side to this conundrum and paradox. Amazingly enough this is also a time to rejoice. If you put it in terms of someone who has suffered, maybe you can understand. But today we rejoice.  We rejoice over ultimate healing. We rejoice over legs and arms and minds that now work perfectly. We rejoice with the imagining of a whole and well Braun running across the heavenly fields leaping and shouting in laughter and joy. We rejoice ad find added meaning in Dr. Martin Luther king’s famous words: free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, he is free at last.

Conundrum & Paradox.

Today we hurt. Today we celebrate the home going of Braun Marshall Powell. Allow us our tears. Allow us our joy. Hold our hand. Give us a hug. And know that our great God is with us on the newest part of our journey.

1 Corinthians 15:50-57, I declare to you, brothers, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. 51Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed— 52in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. 53For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. 54When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.”  55″Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” 56The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

During my time in the US Navy, while stationed at Dam Neck Navy Guided Missile School in Virginia Beach, VA , I took the time to walk all over the battlefields of Yorktown. Call me silly, but that place evoked some of the strongest and eeriest feelings and maybe even a sense of Déjà vu.

A little over twelve years ago I took a week long field trip with Kyle to the Washington, DC area. The Navy Memorial, The Vietnam Memorial, and the Korean War Memorial are all places pregnant with meaning. And then there is Arlington National Cemetery… if you have never seen the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns, you are missing a singularly powerful and evocative ceremony.

Preaching here in Gulfport has afforded me far too many opportunities to participate in graveside services at Biloxi National Cemetery. No matter how many times I hear taps, my emotions are always stirred.

Whether ancient battlefield, historic monument, or military cemetery, it’s all sacred ground.

It’s all worthy of our remembering.

It’s all deserving of our honoring.

Sacred ground made sacred by the blood and sacrifice of the men and women who gave all.

Sacred ground, sacred memories…

Fair winds and following seas to all those who have gone on before.

Your memory has not been forgotten.

Les, Jr.

Lost is the reason why we have a cable DVR at our house.

I did not look forward to the series finale last night–I really did not want the show to end. At the same time, I was eager for some answers to mysteries that were ever present.

Not sure I got many answers to the mysteries.

Not really sure I am happy with the ending.

Very sure I was surprised in the process.

What was most surprising to me was the emotional reaction I experienced.

I’d like to tell you I am a very tough guy who is never moved to tears by any sappy movie or show. I’d like to tell you that but I cannot. Occasionally, Mr. Hard Heart gets his emotional knickers all twisted up. Last night was one of those times.

I am sure it sounds silly–especially to those who are not fans of the show. Certainly there are way more important things to get emotionally invested in.

Truth. And I know it.

Still, the emotions are there. Maybe it’s like the ending of a friendship and I am sad to see it go… or maybe, I got suckered into the lives/ characters in a way I hadn’t experienced before… or maybe, the lives and loves and relationships lost moved me because they mirror this world.

I’ll go with the last one.

Last night I lay in my bed and felt incredible sadness at the loss of a young man two years ago. He was 18. The son of one of my closest friends, his untimely passing seems to never be far from my thoughts and heart on any given day.

So last night I watched Lost for the last time on network TV as a first run show and when it was over, I cried/ mourned/ hurt all over again for the pain of my friend–my pain–and for all of us who sooner rather than later suffer loss.

This afternoon I have a bit more perspective. Part of the story that resonates so well is the thought of lives and hearts brought back together again. That was the ending–at least how I perceived it–of Lost.

I am thankful that God wrote a story of redemption/ restoration and hope/ promise.

Jack Shepherd may have saved his world; Jesus saves mine.

Come Lord Jesus, come!

Even at that, I admit No Perfect People Allowed resonates with me.

It resonates because of all people, I know my imperfection, flaws, faults, and worse.

I know.

I know my shame.

I know and I am reminded every day.

Being a preacher is no boon either. Not only do I get to experience my own failures, I get to live the same things in the lives of those whom I love and minister with.

Because we are flawed, how do we make this ideal or this attitude of No Perfect People Allowed/ Come As You Are work when we are just as messed up as the next person–whether we know and acknowledge it or not?

We have to begin with honesty–being honest with ourselves–admitting we can be mean, hateful, spiteful, impatient, harsh, and judgmental. In many cases, we have to recognize–honestly recognize–our expectations are often impossibly high–even higher than what we expect of ourselves. When that is the case, no one can measure up.

And then it might be best to remind ourselves of some important lessons taught by Jesus in Luke 6.

Specks and planks? Absolutely. We can be extremely judgmental and intolerant because of the speck in another’s eye while a plank of ugliness juts out of our own. Since when were we given the authority or right to discriminate based on whose sins are worse?

Just before Luke 6:41-42 where Jesus talks about the specks and plank, he tells us to Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. (Luke 6:38) Could Jesus be talking about mercy and grace, understanding and patience?

I believe so. When you give grace, you receive grace.

Knowing my flaws, I recognize a need for all the mercy and grace available.

How about you?

No Perfect People Allowed/ Come As you Are means being like Jesus taught. Anything else misses his view of how we treat each other…

Les, Jr.

At any rate, our family is undergoing some changes again. Yesterday was Cole’s last day on hospice care. And that really is good news. Physically, he has stabilized—he doesn’t seem quite so frail and has a bit more energy. We are thankful. However, we are going to miss the help and care.

While he is doing some better physically, mentally and emotionally, we think he is getting worse. There are days when it seems like he is sliding faster rather than slower into a state of pure dementia.

Last week, we had daily and nightly freak outs over Karen going to a Mother’s Day Tea this past Saturday. When I say freak out, I don’t suspect you can come close to imagining how crazy it is.

Last night was another physical battle with him trying to hurt anybody he could grab… and none of it makes any sense.

It is heartbreaking and stressful and well, painful for all concerned (his brothers feel a whole different burden).

Rather than indulge in self-pity, my typical response is to deal with it, shrug it off, and accept that at this point in time, it is what it is. We can’t change it, but we can love him anyway, pray for strength, hope for tomorrow and trust that God is doing something in all of us in spite of our extraordinary fatigue and normal feeling of helplessness.

Life goes on. The world rocks on. And Cole? One day, this will all be better–he will no longer be subject to frustration.

Please keep him and us in your prayers.

On the other hand, life is still sweet. Conner turned thirteen last Saturday, four year old Casey keeps us in stitches–the laughter kind, and Kyle turned twenty-four today. We are looking forward to his wedding on June 19th to the greatest future daughter-in-law imaginable… Seeing Kyle and Karissa embark on a life of ministry and service is simply the best feeling in the world.

So while there is pain, one can still have and behold great joy–I am thankful!

Les, Jr.

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Cole seems to be holding his own for the moment. We think we are seeing some early stages of dementia but with the way this stuff progresses we don’t really know. We just love him and hate to see him have such a horribly hard time. but that’s life–and God is still in control. Can I get an Amen?

Conner will be 13 in a couple of weeks. Hormones galore–but that’s the way it’s supposed to be at this stage. The years are flying by. Isn’t this the age where you can legally put them in a box? Just kidding.

Casey is Casey and keeps us all on our toes. I don’t know if every four year old is a trip, but he certainly is! If you can’t handle the humor and logic of a four year old boy, stop reading and skip to the next paragraph… From his mouth this past Saturday: “Hey. My new underwear has a pocket in it. Whoa. My pocket has a pee pee in it.” How can you not laugh?

Maybe the biggest change is in the life of our oldest son, Kyle who has a birthday in a few weeks as well (24). On June 19, he will marry his beautiful bride-to-be, Karissa Lupo. We are thrilled with her! After their honeymoon, Kyle and Karissa will move to Murray, KY where he will become the new campus minister for “Racers for Christ” at Murray State University.

Life is full of changes.

Some of them are not what we want. But some of them are wondrous indeed.

Give me a few more days, and I’ll be sporting a new number. How in the world did 48 creep up on me?

Like I said, changes…

Headed to Montgomery. Karissa graduates from Faulkner University in the morning…

God bless–enjoy your changes!

Les, Jr.

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Or maybe a better preacher or youth minister?

How about better deacons?

Or better ministry leaders?

Wish you had a better Bible class teacher for you or your kids?

The easiest and best solution for better is prayer. Pray for them. Pray hard.

Can you imagine a scenario where God wouldn’t help an elder or teacher be better?

If you are not yet getting the hint, try this: I want to be a better elder/ preacher/ bible class teacher. So pray for me. And the funny thing is, when you do, you’ll find yourself better as well.

Have a God blessed, Spirit soaked, and Jesus filled evening!

Les, Jr.

Sunday is the beginning of our Do Something series/ campaign.

In 2009 Miles McPherson released a book: Do Something–Make your Life Count. The ideas he presents are plain, simple, and very powerful.

Too often we do church and church is just a Sunday morning affair.

Frankly, I can’t do church anymore.

Thank you, Miles.

It is my prayer that we become a people who do something and make a difference in our families and communities!

God Bless!

Les, Jr.