Originally posted on Facebook on Sunday, June 27, 2021.

In Week 26 of 52 Weeks of Gratefulness, I give thanks for my Granddaddy James Johnson.

My grandfather James passed when I was very young but despite not having very long with him, the time I did have left wonderful memories that are impressed on my soul.

I can remember his smell -earthy; a mixture of wood, dirt and iron that was in his skin from years of working a farm. It was a smell highlighted by a pleasant smokiness; sweet with a spice that made my nose tingle -a fragrance imbued by the tobacco from an old carved wooden pipe that he often chewed or carried but was never lit, which I suspect was for my sake and done at the behest of my parents. I was little but remember that his smoking was a regular point of tension with my dad. Nevertheless, when our family would make the then weekly trek to Canton, Mississippi, they would entrust me to his care.

He was keen on taking me for rides. Sometimes it would be in his old pickup truck where he would sit me in his lap and let me "drive". As we approached a corner, he would say, "Turn. Turn." and I struggled to rotate the steering wheel even though his hands never left it. But my favorite rides would be in the horse drawn buggy. There was a small pig pen besides our grandparents house. Occasionally, Granddad would let me help slop the pigs -pouring a sour concoction of old vegetables and rotting table scraps into their troughs. Ever so often, he'd load a pig on the back of the wagon, hoist me into the seat box and drive into town. Everything about that experience was surreal; from the click-clacking of the wheels of the wagon and the hooves of the horses, to pulling into the back of Piggly Wiggly where the pig was weighed on a giant, white and bloody scale. I remember my Grandfather talking briefly with another adult. Shortly thereafter, he'd count his money in the shadow of the doorway and we'd make our way home with a brown paper bag of hog head souse.

My grandfather was not a talkative man. He said one of a few phrases;

"Whatcha got there?"
"Whatcha been doing?"
"You been good?"
"Tell Granddaddy what you want."

These and a few other memories are all I can recall. But what I remember most is how they made me feel. Being with Granddaddy James made me feel loved, wanted and adored. The short time I had with him, he deposited in me a sense of belonging and value that no one can take away. I'm grateful. #52WoG

Originally posted on Facebook on Saturday, June 19, 2021.

In Week 25 of 52 Weeks of Gratefulness, I give thanks for Kim Moreland.

"We can do better than this."

I didn't know this woman from Adam's housecat but these are the words that follow a direct message to me on Facebook. The message is dated October 18, 2018. She's the owner of Moreland Inc. and was, at the time, Vice Chairman of the Oktibbeha County Republican Party. Her comment is aimed at the heart of the deep, divisive political polarization that is swelling across the country. She continues,

"It's dumb to think that people of different political parties can't work together. Sure, there are areas where people disagree but there is still plenty of common ground where we can work together. I look around Starkville and see problems we're not addressing because we won't work together. I'm tired, Paul, of being accused of hating black people simply because I'm white or that you're against me because you're black. We're smarter than this. We're better than this. We can do better than this and really put Starkville on the map if we can work together."

And from that time, I've witnessed Kim Moreland actively looking for areas of common ground and putting in the work needed to make good things happen. What impresses me most about Kim is that she doesn't busy herself with the pageantry of charity. She doesn't write a check, make a donation or volunteer simply so she can say that she's done a good deed and go back to life as usual while the rest of the world is on fire. She invests towards a specific outcome and doesn't stop working until the outcome is achieved. The work I've seen her readily give herself to, often at great expense, is making sure barriers are removed and the necessary infrastructure exists for anyone who is trying to do more with their lives.

I could talk ad nauseam about the many ways she has contributed to the betterment of our community but one in particular stands out. There had been weeks of meetings with a particular group of potential donors about the investments needed to bring the facilities at the J.L. King Center up to par for our youth development and adult education classes. The meetings had all but stalled and my appeals, as a black man to a white audience, seem to have fallen on deaf ears. But a few weeks later Kim Moreland requests an audience, and these are the words that she spoke during that meeting,

"There are not many projects that I just believe in. I get approached a lot. But the day I walked into that building and you see a 50 year old man working on getting a GED… It's something I fully believe in and we need to better support that building for the whole community."

That meeting, with the same people we'd met with before without success, yielded thousands of dollars in investment. Kim Moreland did not just give her time or money. She used her name, influence -her identity to speak on behalf of others and to bridge the divide between US and THEM so that there would just be WE.

Kim Moreland is a shining example of the hope and potential of our community. We can, in fact, do better. She's proof and I'm grateful. #52WoG

With – Friends of J L King – The J. L. King Center

Originally posted on Facebook on Friday, June 11, 2021.

In Week 24 of 52 Weeks of Gratefulness, I give thanks for Mother Martha Vaughn.

Pastor Jones, Rev. Moore and I are bidding farewell to congregants leaving the sanctuary after Sunday's worship service. Mother Vaughn walks toward us leisurely but deliberately. She looks up to me with a grin that's just short of a smile, moves her left hand slowly past my side and rests her arm around my back. As I place my arm across her shoulders she says to me, "You're getting fat!" The vestibule bursts into laughter.

From the first day I step foot in Greater Ebenezer Missionary Baptist Church, Mother Vaughn has been a fixture more familiar to me than the wood paneling that adorned the bottom half of the church walls. She sat faithfully at the end of the second-to-last row of the Mother's pews. Mother Vaughn was at an age of experience, having seen and endured more than most, that earned her the right to speak matter-of-factly. And, speak matter-of-factly she did.

When ministers would attempt to preach whom had not adequately studied or prepared, as a seasoned student and teacher of the Bible, she'd readily discern it and would subtly register her objection by quietly leaving the sanctuary. It was the unspoken test of every minister who has come through Ebenezer and was keen enough to know they were being proved.

Mother Vaughn would vocally register her objections as well. As she gripped the back of the pew in front of her to steady her as she slowly took her stand, some would groan in anticipation of the remarks that were forthcoming. But she was a woman who had faced the scourge of segregation head on and who not only achieved an education (a bachelors and masters) in the midst of it, but purposed in herself to provide an education to others and for four decades taught through it. So, she was not one to shrink back from curled lips and furrowed brows. When Mother Vaughn saw a problem, she spoke on it. Her common refrain was, "Where are the children?"

To the very end Mother Vaugh was a teacher. Her concern was firmly set on the youth -having them in church and them being taught. She believed that was key to a successful life, church and community. Proverbs 13:24 say, "He who withholds correction hates his son, but he who loves him disciplines him promptly." Even though correction is not often what we want to hear, Mother Vaughn did not withhold it. Whether she was telling me to watch my weight or how we needed to parent better, she did it in love, she did it for our good and provided opportunity to correct a potentially destructive course. I'm thankful. #52WoG

Note: I just learned that Mother Vaughn transitioned to her eternal home. I am grieved to hear she is no longer with us and am sorry we were not able to participate in the celebration of her life. Our heart is with her relatives and our Greater Ebenezer Church family. We love you, Mother Vaughn.
-Paul and Melissa Luckett.

Originally posted on Facebook on Friday, June 4, 2021.

In Week 23 of 52 Weeks of Gratefulness, I give thanks for Dr. James Harold Smith.

As I prepare to lead communion this Sunday, I consult my handy Star Book for Ministers. Though I've led or participated in this sacrament many times to the point of memorization, I find comfort in the book's compact form, its sturdy binding and text that is carefully culled to be appropriate for every occasion. It has been a faithful companion to my Bible for nearly 20 years.

If my house were on fire and my family were safely outside, there are only three earthly possessions I'd dare to brave the fire to save: my Bible given to me by Pastor Gregory Jones (which contains a bookmark made for me by my son), paintings made for me by my by boys Chris, Devin and Roman, and this Star Book for Ministers given to me by Dr. James Smith.

Most people know Dr. Smith by his long and decorated career as an educator and administrator with Oktibbeha County and Starkville School Districts. But, I knew him as a deacon and a faithful steward of the finances of Greater Ebenezer M.B. Church. Dr. Smith was kind, a man of few words but the words he spoke carried weight. I remember after I was confirmed and had delivered my first sermon, Dr. Smith walked up to me, put this book in my hand and said, "God bless you, Reverend."

This gift from he and Mrs. Smith has been a faithful companion for many the funeral, wedding, communion and baptism. It is a gift that helped and equipped a young minister to be prepared for every good work. My ministry -who I am is made possible by the grace of God manifest through the kindness and investments of people like Dr. James Harold Smith. I'm grateful. #52WoG