It's That Time Again!

Tomorrow, July 1st, I will be poked, prodded, scanned, and flushed. It is time for my periodic CT and PET Scans at the Ashland-Bellefonte Cancer Center. I will also have my monthly blood work and Medi-Port flushed while there. This month marks five years and seven months since the mass was discovered in my colon.

Adenocarcinoma was the diagnosis. Stage Four. Metastasized to my liver and in a number of lymph nodes. Prognosis was not good. "Incurable but hopefully manageable". My research on the subject (and information that I pulled from my oncologist) did not give me a very rosy picture. Apparently the average survival time for that diagnosis was 18-22 months. In fact, my son's father in law had received the same diagnosis a few years earlier, and he lived 19 months.

At the time of my diagnosis, the Ashland-Bellefonte Cancer Center was running several television commercials on our local cable network. They featured folks who had been patients at the Cancer Center who were now cancer free. I told Christie McKinney (Dr. Jane's nurse at the time) that my goal was to be on one of the commercials. She just looked at me and smiled. No reply. Later I told two of the chemo nurses (Robyn & Vada) the same thing, and I noticed the quick glance they gave one another, and I realized, these folks didn't think I have a chance. And you know what? Naturally speaking, I didn't.

The idea of less than 2 years to live, with who knows what I would have to suffer was a sobering thought. The information I found regarding my particular type of cancer in the fourth stage was scary. Metastatic colon cancer was basically a death sentence. Only 10% of those patients who have it, survive for five years after surgery and treatments. There was a lot of soul searching that went on, and finally, (as I should have always been doing) I began to try to live my life as if every day could be the last.

I began to develop more patience (a virtue in which I had always been sorely deficient). My illness changed the way I looked at my family, my pastoral calling, and my personal relationship with the Father. My senses seemed to be heightened. The sky seemed bluer, the grass greener, my friends more dear, and my family more precious. Inexplicably, I began to sense a peace that surpasses earthly understanding. I had preached and taught about such a peace for over three decades, but it was not until then that I ever truly experienced it!

There was a deep settled stillness in my soul that allowed me the comfort of knowing that I was held tightly in the hands of God. Jeremiah 11:29 became a very precious promise to me, " 'For I know the plans that I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.". Equally precious was Isaiah 41:10 "'Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.' "

Promises like that, enable one to be at peace with whatever comes.

To be perfectly honest, the next couple of years were pretty tough. Surgery, chemotherapy (two courses of it), a Radio Frequency Ablation procedure, and other procedures consumed my life. But, an amazing thing happened. I didn't die like I was supposed to do. And now, way down the road, those memories just seem surreal.

Remission is sweet! Dr. Jain tells me that I will never be "cancer free", but with all due respect I know that I will be one day. I have the promise of a full and complete healing, in the form of a new body that will NEVER know infirmity! In the mean time, we'll take the precautions that the doctor advises. That is the reason for the monthly blood work. That is why he says the Medi-Port will never be removed (unless it malfunctions and needs to be replaced with another). That is why we still have the annual colonoscopy and the various scans done throughout the year. Precautions are good, but I am thankful that my God is the one who holds my future in His loving hands. With that assurance, there is absolutely nothing to fear!

Several months ago I received an invitation to speak in a program on July 21 at Our Lady of Bellefonte Hospital (where my surgery was done). The program is an "Oncology Update" and will feature several medical professionals (including Dr. Jain) who will take part in the all day conference, revolving around the particular subject of Colon Cancer. I am the only non medical person on the program. I am due to be the first speaker of the day. According to the printed program I recently received, I am to speak for 50 minutes on the "Psycho-Social Support for Cancer Patients". I'm not really sure what that means, but the program coordinator told me to just "tell my story and give my testimony". I don't think I'll have any problem with that. I never tire of telling what God, Dr. Jain, and OLBH has done for me (in that order).

Remember Christie McKinney (who was formerly Dr. Jain's nurse)? She left the Ashland-Bellefonte Cancer Center a few years ago and is now the head Oncology Nurse at OLBH. Turns out that she is the one who recommended me to speak on the program.

The Cancer Center no longer runs the TV commercials, so maybe this invitation is to make up for that! Oh, well. Life is a series of trade offs. Even if I can't be on the commercial, I can still tell my story to whomever will listen ...

I am blessed.

Death Of An Institution

When Senator Robert C. Byrd died at 3:00 this morning in a Fairfax, Virginia hospital, it literally marked the end of an era. Byrd was an institution in Washington, DC, and a legend in the Mountain State. Whether one agreed with his politics or not, there is no question that this was one remarkable individual. In the 234 year history of our nation, no man has served longer in the halls of Congress than the Senior Senator from West Virginia.

Byrd served in the West Virginia House of Delegates with my grandfather, Jerry Stidham, in the late 40's and early 50's . Papaw Stidham, an official with the United Mine Workers of America, had a lot of contact with Byrd over the years, and considered him a good friend until his death in 1968. The young man from Raleigh County was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives in 1952, playing "Cripple Creek" on his fiddle at every campaign speech or rally. Six years later he was elected by the voters in West Virginia to the U.S. Senate - the only man in history elected to nine full terms in the Senate.

Byrd's career was a long, and strange one. The man never lost an election. He dismissed his earlier membership in the Ku Klux Klan as "a mistake of my youth". He voted against the Civil Rights Act of 1964. In the early 70's he upset Ted Kennedy in the Senate Democrat caucus for the post of Majority Whip, and he later served a number of years as the Democrat's leader in the Senate. As the years passed, his vote began to swing from conservative to liberal. I often disagreed with his politics, but had to respect the seriousness he brought to the job. He cast more than 18,000 votes in his Senate career (an obvious record) and had a 98% attendance record! He always carried a copy of the U.S. Constitution in his jacket pocket, and was considered by his colleagues as an expert on the Constitution and the unique rules of the Senate.

Like him or not, the man showed up for work, and as long time chairman of the powerful Senate Appropriations Committee, he brought home the bacon to the people of West Virginia. Wherever you go in the Mountain State, you'll find something - a bridge, a school, a building, or a highway, named for Robert C. Byrd. At the age of 92, Robert Byrd was an institution, yet he lived a quiet personal life, deeply devoted to his wife, who passed away about four years ago.

Back in the 90's, my mother wrote Senator Byrd a letter. The Senate had passed a bill, which banned the abominable practice known as "Partial Birth Abortion". President Clinton had vetoed the bill. Senate Republicans and conservative Democrats sought to over ride the veto. Byrd voted to uphold the veto and Mom was incensed! She wrote him a letter telling him so. She mentioned his long ago association with her father in the West Virginia Legislature and allowed as to how ashamed Papaw would have been of his stance.

Several days later, Mom heard the phone ring while she was doing some yard work just outside the back door. Quickly going inside to answer it, she heard a feminine voice say, "Patsy Adkins?" When she replied that she was, the voice said, "Please hold for Senator Byrd". To Mom's astonishment West Virginia's Senior Senator came on the line greeting her and thanking her for her note. He spent several minutes explaining to her why he had voted the way he did (which I can't explain), but nevertheless, he claimed good reason. He continued by talking about his 20 year friendship with my grandfather, and asked, "What about Mary? (my grandmother) Is she still living?" Learning that she had recently passed away, the Senator offered his deep condolences and assured Mom that our family would be in his prayers. Mom was deeply gratified and her anger over his unpopular vote was gone.

That, my friends, (along with pork barrel politics) is a prime example of how a guy can cast a vote contrary to the views of the majority of voters in his state, but keeps getting elected to represent them!

The Republic goes on, but we will most surely never again see another person like Robert C. Byrd on Capitol Hill.

It All Boils Down To This

Anyone who has been around Westmoreland Baptist Church for the past two years, cannot help but be familiar with the little orange signs posted all around the buildings, announcing "Our Focus". The signs have three overlapping circles. The top circle holds the caption "Magnify God". The two circles below say "Make Disciples" and "Minister to People" respectively. It has been my desire, as pastor, to embed this image in the minds of every member of our fellowship.

The Venn diagram illustrates the three fold mission of Westmoreland Baptist Church. I do not claim originality for this diagram. In fact, I have asked another church who uses it, for permission to use it at Westmoreland. That pastor assured me that they did not originate it either. Wherever it came from originally is unknown to me, but the powerful truth depicted so simply is more than adequate reason for us to use it to keep the mission before us.

Is it based on scriptural truth?

Yes indeed!

It springs directly from the teachings of Jesus in what we call “The Great Commandments”:

Jesus said to him, " 'You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.' "This is the first and great commandment. "And the second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:37-39)

and “The Great Commission”:

“And Jesus came and spoke to them, saying, "All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. "Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, "teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age." (Matthew 28:18-20)

The three categories involve Worship, Ministry, and Discipleship. Each is distinct characteristic, but as the diagram indicates, they do not stand alone. Each category overlaps with the other two, creating an interesting dynamic. All are interconnected. Worship of our God naturally flows from the life of a believer. As we worship the Father, we are reminded of His commandments to us. We are called upon to minister to others. As we reach out to serve the needs of others through missions, we do it in the name of Jesus, which automatically leads to sharing our faith in Him with those to whom we minister. Evangelism and missions lead to teaching new believers all of the things Jesus commanded us. As we build disciples, they grow in their relationship with the Father. Worship becomes a reality to them, as does the natural desire to tell other about Christ. Ministry ensues, and evangelism continues. And so on and so on.

If this is our mission, then we should evaluate every program, ministry, and activity of Westmoreland Baptist Church. If they do not fit into one of the circles, we should abandon them immediately. For those ministries and activities that do fit into the mission, there should be periodic evaluation, and appropriate adjustments and course corrections should be made accordingly.

How are we doing in the task?

I will be sharing my heart regarding this in the 10:45 worship service on Sunday morning. I hope you will make a special effort to be there.

Would You Consider Helping A Friend Help Others?

Pictured here is my daughter in law, Leigh Anne Adkins (along with her husband and our younger son, Benji).

She doesn't know I am doing this, and wouldn't ask me to do it, but I am anyway. I hope none of my friends will be offended, but I am asking a favor.

Leigh Anne has been building her own Mary Kay Cosmetic business for several years. She has been quite successful at building a sales team, and has done well as an Independent Sales Director. Although a talented artist, with a B.A. Degree in Studio Art, Leigh Anne has fallen in love with Mary Kay, and it has allowed her to work at a rewarding career, and still be a stay at home mom as much as possible. She has actually earned two cars due to her production, and this has been a real help to their family.

Right now, Leigh Anne is working on a project to help stomp out Domestic Violence. Mary Kay has donated thousands of dollars of product and cash to women's shelters and programs designed to curb violence against women. She is also offering a lipstick project which will help Safe Harbor domestic violence shelter here in Ashland, KY. Anyone purchasing a lipstick or lip gloss will help that project and also be eligible for a $100 drawing themselves.

I am not just trying to solicit business for Leigh Anne, nor am I trying to line up consultants to work under her. But I am trying to help her help others. I won't go into a lot of detail right now, but Leigh Anne is working on a very strict deadline of June 30th, and she could use some help. There may be someone out there who would like to order some of the Mary Kay products for women (or for men). Others might like to help out just with the lipstick project. In fact, if 50 of our friends would just purchase a lipstick before the June 30 deadline, she could probably reach her goal.

If you would like to know more, I will give you her website, and her email address, and her cell phone number. The cell number is 606.923.2209. her email address is laca@zoominternet.net, and her Mary Kay website is http://www.marykay.com/leighanneadkins1/default.aspx She can also be found on Facebook as Leigh Anne Clanton Adkins.

If you're interested in becoming a consultant, I'm sure she would be glad to talk to you about that, too - but that is not the purpose of this post.

She can give you more details and any other information you may need, (much better than I can) and I am sure she can get the product to you locally very quickly or ship product to you anywhere in the U.S. Time is passing quickly and there are only six days left in the month! Would you help her help others?

Thanks for your consideration.

"The Giant" A Tribute To My Dad

Today marks the third anniversary of "For What It's Worth". My hope is that through these ruminations, I may have brought some challenge, food for thought, and maybe a smile or two your way. Thank you for reading and responding , as many of you have over the past three years. Since today is the third birthday of my blog, and in honor of my Dad on Father's Day, I am reprinting my very first blog post from three years ago today. Happy Father's Day, Dad!

June 20, 2007

The Giant
It’s been 50 years ago, or so, but I remember it like it was yesterday. It generally happened early on Saturday mornings. My little brothers and I would be on the living room couch watching black and white cartoons on TV when the big voice would boom out of Mom and Dad’s bedroom. “I’m the giant and this is my island!” That is all we needed to hear. We would make a mad dash for the bed where Dad had been sleeping and immediately upon jumping in the bed, we would find ourselves flipping off the other side. That was the nature of the game.


It was sort of a horizontal “King of the Hill” contest. Dad was the giant and the bed was his island. The challenge for us was to dislodge him from the island. It was a futile effort on our part, but was tremendous fun to wrestle with and team up on the big guy in the family. I’m not sure that we ever were able to move the giant from his island, but I wouldn’t trade the memories for anything.


Quality time with Dad then was precious and rare. He worked a 40 hour week at International Nickel Company, preached twice every Sunday, and held as many as 19 revival meetings a year. As a normal routine, Dad would rush home after work each day, jump in and out of the tub, eat a quick dinner, jump in the car and drive as far as Portsmouth, OH; Logan, Charleston, Point Pleasant, WV; or Wurtland, KY; preach to a packed house, drive back home, climb in bed and get up early the next morning and do it all over again. Back in those days, revival meetings always lasted two weeks, and often times went three or four. It was not uncommon to see from 25 – 40 people make professions of faith during those services. I remember one stretch when Dad was in church somewhere every night, for 100 straight evenings. I think it is safe to say that he burned the candle at both ends.


Busy as he was, he was always careful to spend quality time with his boys. Whether it be “I’m the Giant and This is My Island”, a game of catch in the back yard, the occasional trip to see the Reds at Crosley Field, or just the time we spent together in church (or on the way to or from) those times were very special to us. Many of you know Dad as the old guy in the McDonalds breakfast gang, or that fellow that never met a stranger, or the guy with a corny joke for every occasion, or the character on Row 9 at Edwards Stadium with a funny hat and silly glasses on to celebrate each Herd touchdown. He is all of those fellows, but Bruce and Carl and I remember him as the hard charging, fiery preacher, who was one of the busiest evangelists in the Tri State area. We know him as the orator that could paint a picture in a sermon so vivid that you could almost feel ground shake when Goliath fell hard from the blow of David’s stone, or see Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego walking around loose in the fiery furnace. In fact one guy once yelled out during Dad’s message, “I can see them in there!”, but that is another story for another time.


Caudle Adkins, Jr. was born at Dehue in Logan Co, WV in 1927. He was often fond of saying that Charles Lindbergh flew solo across the Atlantic and Babe Ruth hit 60 home runs that year to celebrate his birth. Like many other young men, he quit school to join the military in World War II, and although a Sailor through and through, he never learned to swim! He had the good sense to marry Patsy Stidham, the best girl in Logan County, and to get out of the coal mines while he was young enough to move to Huntington and get a new career started at INCO.


Dad celebrated his 80th birthday last month. During his nearly 6 decades in ministry he has preached countless messages, married lots of couples, buried many friends, comforted the grieving, eaten lots of fried chicken, encouraged thousands of Christians, and won hundreds of people to Jesus. Aside from one aunt (who is only a few years older than him), Dad is the last surviving member of his family and has lived to see his grandchildren and great grandchildren, who all love and respect him. He has more friends than anyone I have ever known.


My younger brother, Bruce, has the Adkins looks and inherited many of Dad’s qualities, and keeps links with both sides of Dad’s family. Youngest brother, Carl, inherited his tireless work ethic and his easygoing manner and his ability to schmooze with anyone.


I am thankful that I got his name, although at times it has been hard to live up to all that goes with it! That name was passed on to his oldest grandson and great grandson as well. My son, Jay and I have followed Dad in ministry. Much of our family went down to New Orleans a couple of weeks ago for Jay’s graduation from Seminary. Dad seemed to be pretty proud that day.

Later, Jay told me something that really touched me. He said that during the graduation ceremony, while the congregation was standing and singing, he looked over and saw Dad standing there at the end of our family’s row. Jay said, “I looked over there and thought, If it wasn’t for him, I probably wouldn’t be here now. That’s my Heritage. It brought tears to my eyes”, he said.


Physically, Dad doesn’t seem as big to me as he did on those Saturday mornings, way back when, but even now, to me – he is still “The Giant”.

Our 39th Wedding Anniversary

39 years ago today, I stood along side a beautiful young woman, making vows about loving, honoring and cherishing until death alone may part us. And so we have. For richer or for poorer (mostly poorer). In sickness and in health (mostly good health - with some serious sickness thrown in the past 5 1/2 years). So long as we both shall live (so far, so good). Like many of my friends, I married up. Other than coming to Christ, marrying Linda Bowling was the best thing I have ever done.

The fact that she would even have considered getting hitched to me, is somewhat of a miracle in itself. Part of it speaks of what must be my unparalleled salesmanship, but the majority has to do with the will of a loving and sovereign God. He knew that there needed to be someone in my life who could counteract the cynicism and hardness that was there. So He brought this beautiful young woman f into my life, all the way from a mountain town 100 miles away. She is the best person I have ever known, and I am honored and humbled that she has kept her vows to me (for better or worse) for nearly four decades.

The weather on that Saturday evening, 39 years ago, was much like it is today. Hot and humid. The Thomas Memorial Free Will Baptist Church was packed out that evening. I can't tell you that from memory, but from the photos which verify the fact. My Father performed the ceremony. Linda's Matron of Honor was her older sister, Violet Bennett. Her bridesmaids included her cousin, Brenda Huddle, her cousin, Joyce Faye Pope, her former roommate, the late Sandy Chapman, and her close friend, Lois Conn Vallance.

Doug Goolsby, my college friend and kindred spirit stood with me as the best man. (I would return the favor three years later at his wedding in Green Bay, Wisconsin. Other groomsmen included my younger brother, Bruce, lifelong friend and neighbor, Donnie Smith, best friend from High School, Phil Cheek, and college friend, Larry Gunnoe. Linda's little nephew, Glen Bennett was our ring bearer. His sister, Gloria, was the flower girl.

The wedding was beautiful. There were a couple of humorous hitches that came off during the ceremony, but what weddings are there that do not have some memorable gaffes?

A nice reception was held in the church's "sewing room" and fellowship hall. Donnie, Bruce, and the others, made sure my little Opel Cadet was properly adorned with the obligatory "Just Married" decorations. We spent our wedding night in the Holiday Inn at South Point, Ohio, and there wasn't much of a honeymoon since both of us had to be back at work on Monday morning.

It wasn't much of a wedding by today's standards, but there is more to a marriage than the cost of the wedding ceremony or a two week honeymoon to some exotic place. Marriage is more about commitment than anything else. Oh yes! Love is important, but as time goes by, one comes to understand that love is much more than we thought it was when we were 20 years old.

A marriage based on love (for God first, and then for one another) and commitment , is a marriage that will stand the test of time.

For some reason, unknown to me, God has chosen to keep us here for 39 years. He has blessed us with two great sons, and two wonderful daughters in law. The "icing" on our anniversary cake would be Quint, Will, Canon, and Asher, our four precious grand kids. We still live in a humble home, drive cars that have seen better days, and really don't have much by this world's standards, but we are rich beyond measure.

We celebrated our anniversary a day early this year at Disney's Magic Kingdom with part of our family. God has been good to us (even if Michelle did make me wear the funny hat!).

Happy anniversary Baboo! I love you more today than yesterday - but not as much as tomorrow.

Visiting The Mouse At His House

It was probably around 1955 when I became a member of the Mickey Mouse Club. I had the T-Shirt and the mouse ears. Actually I had two sets of mouse ears, because my little brother destroyed the first set. The memories are still vivid of sitting in front of the big console with the little black and white screen, watching as the Mouseketeers marched into the picture announcing their names, Cubby, Annette, Doreen, Bobby, Jimmy and the others. I would proudly march from the front bedroom into the little living room, wearing my shirt and ears, and announce, "C.J." Like thousands of other kids across America I really felt like I was part of the club. I was always a little puzzled by the old chubby guy named Roy. (I still don't know why he was in the club). Mickey was a happy, familiar little rodent, with a high pitched voice. I loved him and also enjoyed the talent roundup, Spin and Marty, and other features at the clubhouse. Donald Duck, on the other hand, bothered me a lot. He was a jealous little guy with an obnoxious voice, and way too high of a stress level.

The thought of Disneyland (way out in California) was only a dream to this West Virginia kid. It was awesome to see on the Walt Disney Hour on Sunday evenings, but it was far enough removed from our town that I had no dream of ever visiting there. Not only did I think I would never get to visit the magical place, I only knew two kids personally who had ever been there. The Vallance boys had visited Disneyland with their parents on a cross country trip, back in the late 50's. Although I was a little jealous, I still enjoyed seeing the grainy home movies of the trip.

Once Walt Disney began to transform Orlando from a non destination in Central Florida to the tourist Mecca of North America, I was detached enough from my former youthful relationship with the Mouse, that I really didn't care so much. Furthermore, limited budgets, old used up cars, and staying busy in bi-vocational ministry and community activities forced most of our family "vacations" to be brief in nature and usually within a day's drive from home.

Well, here I am, 55 years removed from my initiation in the Mickey Mouse Club, and today Linda and I are going to the Magic Kingdom with Jay, Michelle, and grandsons Quint and Canon.

Personally I could do without all the walking in the 95 degree heat (and 98% humidity) but it is a wonderful opportunity to turn back the hands of time a bit, and to spend some special time with two of our grandsons. My only wish would be that grandsons Will and Asher could also be with us today. But we'll look forward to doing something special with them later in the summer.

In the mean time, like the Seven Dwarfs, it's time to pack up our stuff and march off humming the tune to "Hi Ho, Hi Ho..."

Should I survive the trip (and I'm sure I will), I'll be posting again tomorrow before we head for the east coast and a visit to NASA. But for now, "M-I-C (See you real soon! ) K-E-Y. (Why? because we like you!) M-O-U-S-E!"