"Details, Details"

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        Christian Encouragement April 26, 2000
      
      
          
      
      
        <b>"Greatness and attention to detail, in my opinion, are welded together." Charles 
        Swindoll.</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        <b>"Do you see a man skilled in his work? He will serve before kings; he will not serve 
        before obscure men." Prov. 22:29</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        <b>Hello friends!</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        <b>James Taylor Reese was born November 18, 1918 and left this world to "forever be with 
        the Lord" on November 25, 1994. He was a highly skilled carpenter, deacon, Sunday School 
        teacher and, in my eyes, a great man. I knew him for almost 36 years.</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        <b>Bro. Reese learned to build houses, large buildings and cabinets at a time when quality 
        and attention to detail were considered paramount. He could lay the foundation, build the 
        walls, put on the roof, hang the doors, put in the windows, build the cabinets, and then 
        do all the finish work. He was a man who paid great attention to detail. A man who loved 
        his work, and knew it well. He was a true perfectionist as a carpenter. In fact, so much 
        so, that even on his deathbed when the cancer had already invaded his brain, he would 
        periodically get up and go over to the closet, open the door and run his hands all around 
        the finish work. This was something he had done all of his life. It was amazing to see 
        that even in the final stages of the death process, he was still checking his work. A 
        morbid thought? Absolutely not! His tremendous attention to detail was so much a part of 
        him that not even brain cancer could wipe it away.</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        <b>A deacon and a Sunday School teacher. Bro. Reese could walk into a class of noisy, 
        bored Jr. High age kids and in just a few minutes of teaching on the second coming of 
        Christ, have them literally quiet and totally focused. I was one of them. As I recall, the 
        note passing and the wiggling in the seats were history when he began to describe, in 
        great detail, the Lord's return. No one moved. No one spoke. I sat there listening to 
        every word, watching each expression on his face. This was a subject he had studied out, 
        knew well, and loved. You could tell. I remember feeling this welling up inside and 
        wanting to yell, "WOW"! I didn't. Like the rest of the class, I just sat and absorbed his 
        teaching of God's Word like a sponge. It was during these few short weeks when I was 13 or 
        14 years old that I developed a true love for the Book of Revelation. God's promises of 
        hope, utter victory over Satan, and the unbelievably glorious return of Christ with us 
        following behind Him, will stay with me forever.</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        <b>I can remember going to his house in the morning, and he'd be sitting at the dining 
        room table studying his Bible. I'd go over for dinner, and afterwards, he'd go out on the 
        back porch and study his Bible. As I grew up, if I had a question about something I'd been 
        studying, I'd call him. The point? He loved the Lord, loved His Word and paid great 
        attention to the details. I learned much from this man and will eternally be grateful.</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        <b>James Taylor Reese. Who was he? My grandfather. I adored, appreciated respected and 
        trusted him. I was with him when the angels came to take him to the Lord. Did I see it? 
        No. Did it happen that way anyway? Yes. Did the heavens open up and the Lord Jesus Christ 
        meet him? Yes. Did I get to see it? No, but he did. Am I glorifying him just a bit? Oh, I 
        don't think so. To me, he was GREAT. To this day, I still thank the Lord for him when I 
        pray, and I always ask Him to tell my grandfather "Hello". Silly? Are you kidding?!</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        <b>If you don't know just exactly what your gifts are, then ask God to reveal them to you. 
        When you discover them, use them. Pay attention to the details. Learn how to do them 
        better. Enjoy them, after all they are beautiful presents from God Himself to us to be 
        used for His honor and glory as well as for the benefit of the saints.</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        <b>Years ago, I heard Sis. Judy Johnson play a piece on the piano (I don't know who 
        composed it) and it made me cry. I was overwhelmed by the magnificence of it and her 
        ability to play it so wonderfully. When I hear Bro. Dick Vlot play his harmonica, I bow my 
        head and thank God for such beauty.</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        <b>If your gift is teaching, study daily and pay attention to detail. Present God's Word 
        as though He were speaking it through you (I Peter 4:11). If your gift is music, 
        sing....play it to the best of your ability. If your gift is encouraging, send out emails, 
        note cards, or make a few phone calls each week. Don't just encourage your friends. When 
        you go to church, look for the elderly lady or gentlemen who sits alone on the pew. If you 
        are a "prayer-warrior", then keep a detailed list. If you are a carpenter, remember, 
        you're not just hammering nails into boards. You are building a house that will shelter a 
        family from the heat and the cold. A house where a family will make it a home. A place 
        where prayers to God may go up on your own behalf. Think about that!</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        <b>I thank God for all of you and I pray God will reveal to each of us His wonderful gifts!</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        <b>With love in Jesus Christ who is the best of all God's precious gifts,</b>
      
      
         
      
      
        Debbie Reed-Parman
      
      
         	
      
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