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    Belle was a hefty red-haired woman with a ruddy complexion. She knew every joke in the Western Hemisphere. She could cook, clean, do home repairs, and she take care of my grandparents — which she did till they died. She told us to mind our mama or “Doodart” would “get us”. Doodart was her name for the boogerman. It never occurred to us how he would “get us”. We didn’t want to know!

    Mom eventually remarried to a great guy and we moved to Northern Oklahoma. My brother and I saw Aunt Belle occasionally as we grew up. While we all move on, I still fondly remember my Aunt Belle who helped out a single mom grieving for her husband and two little boys in the shock of confusion and transition. I can still smell that Aunt Belle fragrance as I remember her, and smile!

    Aunt Belle died a few years ago. I preached her funeral. It was held in the little church in town. It was quite a trip back in time for my brother and me. Her death at age 68 was a quick one. She was sitting in the town’s one café, drinking coffee and having a smoke. A farmer came in and they traded jokes. The farmer told a great joke. My Aunt Belle did two things all at the same time: first, she leaned back in her chair laughing for all she was worth, and second, she suffered a heart attack as her chair pitched backwards. She died with a smile on her face and was dead before she hit the floor. Lord, if you’re listening, I want to live a healthy happy life to my mid eighties, and then die just like that. In an instant, she was gone. No more watermelons, no more scattering corn to the chickens, no more sunrises greeted with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. No more time with two little boys with no daddy. No more Hank Williams songs on the radio, and no more fishin’. Not here, anyway.

    But you see, I’m like her. I don’t smoke, and I don’t have a ‘61 Falcon, but I am a Christian. I love jokes and sunrises and sunsets on the porch, and I love showing compassion to little kids caught in the loss of a parent. Belle lives on in me. When I travel and entertain audiences, she is joining in the laughter. She had a terminal condition called Life, and I caught it. No one gets out of this world alive physically, and that’s okay. You she, Belle also had an eternal condition called Faith, and I caught that, too.

    For a while, my mom was a single mom, trying to handle two boys, continue her education, and deal with her grief. She had some help from God above and several family members here below. Those family members not only helped her, but they also helped two little boys grow up and love Jesus despite their heartbreaks.

    I guess all I’m saying is this: if you had ANYBODY in your early life who did ANYTHING to point you toward God, get down on your knees right now and say a prayer of thanks. And if you see some little kids who’ve lost a mom or dad to death or divorce or desertion, remember you don’t have to be somebody the world holds as spectacular to make an eternal difference in this world. All you have to do is share a little of yourself and the love of Jesus with them, just like my Aunt Belle did. And you know what, no matter how you leave this world, you’ll go with a smile on your faith and stay vibrantly alive in those you’ve touched.