Brother Blevins

     I was asking my mom and dad to check their journals to see when our next story began. And, if you can believe it, it was a year ago this past Friday.  That's pretty remarkable how the Lord does that. I am really trying hard to get this post done today so you can begin to see the picture we are painting.

   Brother Blevins. Daulton Blevins, there could not be a man that more embodied the kindness, faithfulness, joy, and love of Christ. Daulton and his precious wife, Pauline,  came into our lives back in 2001, in Lubbock. Daulton had served as a deacon for 60 years and Pauline taught Sunday school for almost as long, 6th grade girls.  They were were the ideal representative for an entire generation of FBC Lubbock saints. People who worked hard, served others, loved others, were honest, faithful and kind.........they were very special people, part of a very special group to my family.

Soon after my parents moved to Lubbock, my dad's new path of ministry crossed with Daulton's steadfast and enduring path of service and one of the most precious friendships began. You see my dad's parents had gone on home to Jesus many years before and Daulton and Pauline became my dad's "parents." Yes, socially, in that they shared holidays, celebrations, and time together, but also spiritually......they prayed together, ministered together, walked in faith and life........ together.  And, even at 92, no one was ready to let Daulton go. Daulton had very courageously fought cancer in hopes of being there, for his family and precious wife Pauline, for as long as possible.

I find myself saying precious a lot, if you know Miss Pauline, there is no better word.


   My dad shared almost daily trips to the Blevins house, sharing Oreos on the porch, or having lunch around their kitchen table,  and throughout Daulton's illness, he shared daily visits to the hospital or spent time by his side at home. An entire book could be written about the man Daulton was and the friend and father he became to my dad.

No one has seen death like my dad has. He has seen it in every stage, he has seen it in young and old, men and women, he has seen it come quickly and seen it exhaust and frustrate, as it evades those who pray for it to come swiftly. He knows its sounds and smells, he knows that sometimes when a doctor says "a few weeks," they really should be saying "a few days."

He has walked this road with so many, held hands, comforted and stood watch with countless husbands, wives, children and parents as their loved ones are ushered into heaven. He walked this road with his parents and he walked this road with Daulton. And I know, as much as the thought of losing him pained my dad, he prayed everyday for months this day would be the day, for he knew, what we knew, what Daulton knew............. the truth that Jesus had prepared a place for him, in His Father's house.  Jesus would be waiting with open arms to receive a servant so faithful. And though we all prayed for the Ultimate Healing, it killed me that dad would suffer this loss, during our sojourn in the Wilderness. The worst, most painful time for a worst, most painful loss.

   Even though he was going through the same dark season as we all were, my dad remained faithful, compassionate and merciful to everyone, but Daulton in particular. They had talked for months about his funeral, his wishes for Pauline and his family. Dad has done hundreds of funerals and done them masterfully, but I know that for the weeks he spent preparing Daulton's service, he would gather his thoughts, his notes and write out his sermon through tears and heartbreak. Dad must have practiced it a thousand times, he would stand in the backyard, where all his best sermons are first preached and repeat it relentlessly until he could make it all the way through. He would come in and announce "Well, I made it through the first 5 minutes....." And so on, and so on.....until every word Daulton deserved, every word that would comfort his family, every word that pointed back to Christ could be delivered, unbroken.

   When that day came, it was one of the most powerful funerals I have ever attended. Often times, when people lead extraordinarily long lives, many of their would be friends and loved ones are already gone or unable to attend their service. At 92 years old, there were hundreds of people there. A sanctuary packed with friends, family, former Sunday school children, now with their children and grandchildren, came to honor Daulton. Fellow  and  former  deacons,  people  who  had  been  to "sing-ings" in the Blevins house, people who had been visited in hospitals or homes, people who had been taken the Lord's Supper from Daulton or my dad, when they were too sick to come to the Lord's table..........all came to honor Brother Blevins. If you've been around churches in Texas or in the Southern Baptist Convention very long, you would know D.L.  Lowrie and John Ballard. Legends for their preaching, singing, pastoring, compassion and character gave brilliant messages. I'll never forget Dr. Lowrie announcing that "He had stood at this podium  for mayors, government officials, bank presidents........men of wealth and influence..........and Daulton Blevins was the most Godly man he had ever known." Now, that was saying something. I mean, really saying something. To hear those words from a man like Dr. Lowrie..........there could not possibly be a higher compliment levied. Two of the true greats at what they do, no, in fact, I would say three.   Dr. Lowrie, John Ballard, and their former on-the-job-trainee, my dad,  Jerry Huggins.
   I did not think there could be a more significant moment than Dr. Lowrie's pronouncement of Daulton's Godliness, or John Ballard, well into his seventies or eighties, belting beloved hymns like some young gun, but there was. As my dad made his remarks, he began going down the rows of Daulton's entire family, one by one, addressing them by name. Pauline, 4 children, 4 spouses, 10 grandchildren, 5 great grandchildren..........24 people in the order they were sitting, and my dad told each one of them what he and Daulton, had prayed for them over the span of 10 years. From high school graduations, college graduations, new jobs, engagements, marriages, children, troubled marriages, restored marriages, cancer, healing, bar exams, moves, lost jobs, football games, boyfriends, grandchildren........their salvation, their baptisms, their walk with Christ.  Dad gave a record of Daulton that only he could, a record of Daulton's love, concern, pride and prayers for his entire family. It was overwhelming. For me, it was painfully, achingly overwhelming.

   The day before Daulton passed away, I had asked my dad how he was doing. Dad said the doctors were giving 1-2 weeks, he felt like it would be 1 week or less. I hadn't been able to find time to see him in months. By April, the part I was hating most about the Wilderness, was how it consumed you, keeping you from even being aware of so much going on around you. So many ministry opporunities missed, because we couldn't break free from our chains. That was it, a brief conversation in passing.

   That night I would have my second "dream." As I lay awake in bed, praying I would fall asleep soon, I felt one of the strongest words from the Holy Spirit I ever had. There was no scene, no color, no words....just a thought. But, a thought that wasn't mine. I wasn't even thinking about Daulton, but so clearly in my head there was this thought, not audible or words I could see written out, just a thought. "Daulton will be gone in 2-4 hours, call dad, he is to be there with him." I sat upright, stunned for a few minutes and immediately began questioning, "Lord, is that me or you?" I nudged Andy and told him what happened. I wasn't sure what to do, I felt like it was very clear, but, it was also  3 in the morning, what if I was wrong?

   My immediate thoughts were of how embarrassed I would be if I wasn't right, I sat there with my phone, "Seriously, Sara? You're gonna call and upset your dad at 3am, as though he isn't going through enough right now?" "You're right," I told myself, that's crazy. Instead, I called Daulton's Hospice floor, I got a charge nurse and explained who I was, I asked how Daulton was doing, she said he was finally sleeping peacefully. I didn't want to tell her why, but, I did ask if he was in distress. She said everything was fine. I remember blurting out, "Can you check on him?! Do you think he could die tonight?!?!"  I know she must have thought I was a lunatic. She assured me he would be here 1-2 weeks.

   I hung up the phone, not at all relieved, scolding myself for being a mess. "What a fool! Look how foolish you would be if you had called anyone else? You've got to get it together, you can't just  launch grenades at people because you feel like the Lord is telling you something. How selfish, how reckless?" That went through my head all night long.

   As soon as it was past, ridiculously early I called my dad, no answer. I tried my mom, no answer. I tried the house and was relieved when my mom answered, "Good, they're home!" That's a good sign. We chatted a few minutes and I asked where dad was, "Oh, Sara, I thought he probably called you. Daulton passed away, very early this morning." I just began sobbing, "Oh God, Mom, tell me Dad was with him. Tell me he woke up and decided to go up there." " No, one of the kids called after a nurse called them." I melted into a heap on the floor.

   I couldn't believe it, what costly disobedience, what costly pride! I didn't really want to discuss it with anyone, because who talks about themselves, and how horrible they're feeling, when someone else dies? But, I was a wreck most of that day and for several days after.  This, would be the second time, I fought such darkness and attack. You get to a place in your walk, where you are dealing with the subtler sins, arrogance, envy, fear, complacency.....it had been some time, since I had found myself in such blatant disobedience. Or, at least disobedience that was so painfully costly. I had been walking so closely with the Lord, and still walked head on into disobedience, and I knew it. I knew what I was supposed to do, but the fear of looking foolish, of being wrong, fear of feeling melodramatic, fear of disappointing others when they saw how way off I was............I cry even now, remembering how ashamed and guilty I feel for not calling my dad.

   Over the next couple of days, the enemy would attack me at this deepest, freshest wound with absolutely crippling, guilt and shame. How could have I robbed my dad of those sacred moments? How could I have robbed Daulton of not having my dad, his grafted-in son, with him as he goes to meet Jesus? Who would do that?! Who would not pass on the intended blessing to such deserving men? I still groan at the thought of it. Lord, don't trust me with anything! I clearly am undeserving. This was what was going through my head at the funeral and the days after.

  Eventually, God's forgiveness and mercy pierced into my darkness. But, disobedience always carries a consequence, sometimes even after you've repented. I spent days praying about what I could take away from such a painful experience, what was the point of all this Lord? And again, there was a thought, just a thought, but a thought that was not mine. "Never again. Never again, Sara, never let fear or doubt cause disobedience like this." I knew then, He was right, never again. Like committing my life to Christ or surrendering to ministry, I committed to relentless and fearless obedience to whatever the Holy Spirit leads, whatever word He gives, whatever directive goes with it........I'm doing it, I'm speaking it, I'm giving it.  I don't have to understand it, I don't have to see it play out, but I'm not stopping short of complete obedience.

   The first dream taught me that God could use me to bless and minister to others, completely separate from my will or desires, if I would obey Him. The second dream taught me to obey and trust Him, no matter what, overcome fear, doubt and ego and start running after Him, wherever it leads. The second dream uniquely prepared me- in July, when I had the third one, it was this experience and commitment to never again disobey what I know to be the Holy Spirit, that would lead me to the car wreck, to Dallas, to meet with counselors, pastors and professors, to call Autumn asking for wisdom, to call Terese, Autumn's friend, to lunch with a stranger, to Seeds of Hope, to leaving Haran for Canaan.


Blessings,
Sara