Category Archives: Church

Wayne Barnett: A true and dear friend

I’ve often said that my husband George was the best man I ever knew, but Wayne Barnett is a pretty close second.  The friendship between George and Wayne stated at church camp in 1958 when they were in high school.  George lived in Pewee Valley;  Wayne, in Cropper.   They were reunited on their first day at Transylvania College in 1960. 

In 1963, on a retreat, George fell from a cliff into the hard mud of a creek and broke his back.  Doctors predicted he would not survive.  He did but a difficult recovery lay ahead.  Dr. Perrine hired Wayne to live with George and push him in his wheelchair.  Since Transylvania and most of Lexington—and, indeed, most of the world–had yet to adapt buildings and curbs that were wheelchair friendly, George and Wayne were almost like conjoined twins, rarely separated.

After George’s graduation his dad purchased a home where George and Wayne lived while attending Lexington Theological Seminary.  Wayne married LaDonna on June 4, 1966, with George performing the ceremony.  George and I married two weeks later with Wayne as best man.  Both graduated, were ordained, and began their full-time ministers.  They wrote sporadically, visited a few times when George returned to visit family in Kentucky, and saw each other at church assemblies.  After retirement, they renewed and deepened that friendship with several visits between Northern Kentucky and Austin, Texas. With George a huge fan of the University of Louisville and Wayne a long-time Kentucky fan, basketball season was filled with teasing and taunting.    They kept up on email.  When George realized how sick he was in October, 2012, I email Wayne and asked him to call George, to help keep his spirits up.  Wayne called at least weekly, every one of them a joyous event for George.

All of his life George battled health issues and had numerous surgeries.  On January 31,  2013, the doctors operated again.  Everything seemed to go well, but after the surgery, he couldn’t breathe.  Although brought back, George never fully recovered. s

In February, when George knew he was dying he scribbled his last message, “Call, Wayne.”  He wanted the man he considered a brother to be with him.   Of course Wayne came.  I never doubted he would.  He left for Austin the next day and stayed until 18 days until after George’s funeral March 5.  I’m grateful because he supported me and helped with decisions regarding George’s health care but I’m most grateful because this best of all friends came when George asked him, no questions. No excuses.  No delay.  Wayne came and was here for George as he always had been.

On March 2, the day George died  and although George was probably too sedated to know this, the Wildcat fan watched a UofL basketball game in the hospital room and cheered for George’s Cards against Syracuse.  Then he watched George being taken off life support with George’s sister, Diane, and me.  He cried with us. 

As sick as Wayne was with some bug he picked up in the hospital, he attended the Monday evening visitation, coughing his lungs out.  Fortunately, he got a prescription that night.  He didn’t cough during the funeral but was there to remember George. 

Wayne was George’s best friend, always there to love and care for and support and joke with him.  I will always admire and appreciation your loyalty and friendship, Wayne.   You truly are a fine Christian man.  Thank you.

George and his donkey

Sometimes Monday evenings are difficult because I put my “major” blog up on Tuesday and have to come up with something. 

In reference to my blog, major doesn’t mean spectacular.  It’s like the prophets in the Bible which are divided into two categories:  major prophets and minor prophets.   How does a book become major?   It’s all based on length.   The longer books are major.    The short are minor.    That’s a lot like my blog posts.   The longer one is on Tuesday; the shorter, on Friday.

The reason I’m madly searching for a topic to writer this major post is that I had one ready to go but needed an okay which I haven’t received.  Maybe next week.

For that reason, I’m going to discuss George, the donkeys and Palm Sunday.  Not a timely topic but it’s all I have and I’d forget it by next spring.

When George was associate minister at First Christian Church in Louisville, KY–which is really in Prospect, KY, but that’s not our discussion for today.  He felt a donkey should lead the procession on Palm Sunday.  It’s not easy to find a donkey without connections to the donkey set but he did and was so excited.  Everyone at church was excited until late Saturday evening, the owner of the little creature called and said, “Your donkey has the flu.”   I cannot describe how disappointed George way.  He said if he ever wrote an autobiography, the title would be, “Your Donkey Has the Flu.”

The next year, he found a healthy creature,  We processed at the Christian Church, then the donkey walked across the highway to the Episcopal Church to lead their procession.

In the church in Burnet, TX, George found a donkey named George.  Palm Sunday mornings were a little confusing.  Shout “George” and who knew who’d turn up?   The donkey George seemed like a placid little animal.  He allowed children to rub his nose and adults to wander around it–at least, until James, who was playing the part of Jesus, tried to sit on top of him.  Then the donkey George reacted.   Not happy with someone on his back, he took off with James hanging on.

If you’ve read my book THE MATCHMAKERS OF BUTTERNUT CREEK, you know that I used this scene.  In reality, the donkey only moved a few yards before he was captured and James was saved.  I made it a lot worse but that’s what writers do.

After that, Palm Sunday was celebrated with only waving palms.  No more donkeys.

The joy of not being alone

I’ve said this often:  I love my church.    During this difficult time, ministers visited in the hospital and at home.  Missionary friends dropped by Tuesday before they left for Ecuador.  Others have called.  Today a minister  and her young daughter visited–always fun to have a little girl around.   People in the congregation have sent cards,  kept us in prayer, and asked what they can do to help–and I know they mean that.  After all, Ken and the guys showed up to move furniture for us.

Our families have been wonderful. We don’t have relatives closer than Kentucky and Arizona although I have a cousin in Kansas, but George’s sister calls almost daily. We love talking to her. My sister sent a card. My brother called. Friends from the church George served in Burnet stopped by Monday. One of George’s oldest friends even volunteered to drive all the way from Kentucky to visit.   People tell me their friends and families and prayer groups keep us in prayer.

And so, we’re not alone.  Even with George as sick as he is and with my being  worried, we are truly blessed  by those who remind us that we are not alone.

I thank God every day for each of you.

 

Do you know Miss Birdie?

Although many readers have told me they know the real Miss Birdie, one of the main characters in the Butternut Creek series, they’re wrong.   She was inspired by many women in various churches from Kentucky to Texas and many states in between.   I believe nearly every church has one. 

Do YOU know a Miss Birdie?  If you do, please tell me about her.  What are the identifying characteristics of a Miss Birdie?