Meditation verse: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future:” Jeremiah 29:11

 I was a green teenager and self taught sax player when I auditioned with the pastor’s wife, Mrs. Jewell Lanahan. She was a fabulous pianist and well known throughout the denominational Conference. Furthermore, she was attractive, happy, and upbeat with a smile that put everyone at ease. The entire church dearly loved her.

Her husband, Dr. Lloyd Lanahan was a noted speaker and powerful influence in our community of Anderson, Indiana, and a top leader in the Conference.     

My father was a pastor, so I was reared in the church. However, in the rebellious years of ages 14-15, I came to believe one could have no fun if a Christian. Consequently I began seeking “fun” in the wrong places.

For no earthly reason, I found myself for the fist time in this church on a Sunday evening. I had my sax with me. I knew no one in the church, which was a mystery known only to God at that time, why I was in that particular church.

 The music was accompanied by a grand piano, a magnificent pipe organ, and a reasonably good choir. I was impressed.  

The preaching had no influence on me, but I met a young man who invited me to his home following the service. They raided the fridge, while a young lady, destined to be my bride, played the piano, and I joined in with my sax as everyone sang.

Riding the bus home that night, I came under deep conviction that those kids were Christians and they were having fun. I must admit, I too had fun. By this time we had lived in nine or ten parsonages, some of which I had little remembrance, but the home of this night is still etched on the Etch-a-Sketch of my brain.

Disembarking the bus, I bounded up the porch steps in a decided hurry, racing through the empty house, into my bedroom, sliding my sax case across the floor. I fell to my knees at my bedside, with tears of repentance rolling down my cheeks. I rose up a new person with Jesus Christ as Lord of my life. Through His power living in me, I became a Christian leader in high school.

Mrs. Lanahan molded me as tender clay. She shaped me, pushed me, made me stretch, and play in keys with which I was uncomfortable, as we prepared music for worship services.

She was an encourager of youth, especially budding musicians. When our worship leader, went into the military to serve our country during World War II, I was pressed into service to lead that great congregation of 500 plus for the next two years. My love for the Lanahans and their church never waned.

After college and during seminary, I became music director for the annual conference. Because of Jewell Lanahan, I was privileged to minister with music on four continents, including performing for eighteen thousand people in Vienna, Austria. There will be many jewels in Jewell’s crown for all the youth she influenced.  

My ministry later took me to Houston, Texas, where I’ve been for 30 years. My wife and I drove up to Anderson 19 years ago and had a lovely visit with Jewell. Her husband had passed on many years before, and we found her countenance to be that of a “school girl” in love with Ellsworth Rittenhouse, a man she had known many years. “I am so in love.” she said, “I never dreamed I would ever feel like this.” It was beautiful and we were thrilled for her! That was my last contact with her until sixteen years later.

Now for the serendipity part; I wrote a book, Benny to Beyonce – Finding God’s Perfect Pitch for you Life. I belong to a Christian writers group and on this particular evening we are having a Thanksgiving read-around.

Here I am, sitting at my cluttered desk, reading aloud the chapter I plan to read for the group. I am rehearsing, “Thanks For t   he Memory,” Bob Hope’s theme song, in which I chronicle the major influences in my life for which I am thankful, which, of course, includes several paragraphs on Jewel Lanahan, who by this time is Jewell Rittenhouse

As I am reading aloud, the shrill ring of the telephone rudely interrupts my concentration. I wonder who it could be, interrupting the cadence and flow of this great masterpiece. It is a voice from the past. He was the cutest eight-year-old kid, running around the church all those years ago, when I was receiving inspiration from Jewell. I hadn’t heard from him in seventeen years. In our conversation, I asked, “I suppose Jewell is no longer with us, is she?”

He replied, “Yes! She is ninety-nine years old and living with her new husband in the Methodist Home in Franklin, Indiana.” My heart leaped with joy within me! What good news.

The next day I was able to visit with her on the phone and in the conversation she said, “Jerry, I would really love to hear you play again.”

“Jewell,” I answered, “My lovely daughter, Merribeth Stitt Deaton and I are working on a CD project titled, A Love Like This,”

Jewell asked. “Are you on it?”

“Yes, and I promise to send you the very first copy. Also,” I interjected, “you will love Merribeth’s singing.  She never fails to bring the crowd to their feet. Meanwhile if any of your friends are on the internet, you can her sing on www.myspace/Merribeth.”  Jewell then put Ellsworth on the phone. 

“Jewell has told me so much about Jerry Stitt, the sax player.” This amazed me because it had been more than sixty years since we worked together.          

My daughter and I were recording in a studio that took eight hours on the road each trip, and there were many trips. Little did we know it was going to take eight months to complete it? Realizing Jewell was nearly one hundred, I prayed, “Lord, help us get this finished in time for Jewell to enjoy before she makes her heavenly appearance.”

At last, I got a copy of the master, called the Home, asking the receptionist if Jewell were still alive.

“Yes!”

Hallelujah!

In our conversation, Jewell said, “Jerry, I turned one hundred years old three months ago, and am in a wheel-chair full time.”  However,” she went on to say, “I plan to learn to walk again. I’m running ahead of everyone else in therapy.”

Now, that is spirit! That rings of faith, hope and confidence in the future. She is down for the moment, but not out. She knows the plans God has for her. Then, Jewell asked wistfully, “Jerry, I don’t suppose you’ll get back to Indiana again?”

“No, it’s not likely.”

“Well, I still would love to hear you play again.”

“You will, in just a few days. I am mailing the CD in the morning.” The next day I took a love package to the Post Office, which included the first copy of the CD, A Love Like This, and a copy of “Thanks For the Memory.” Because someone sowed time and encouragement into a teenager’s life, that long, time consuming, boring, Post Office line was transformed into a time of joy, expectancy and wonderful memories.

Look around you for someone into whose being you can sow life-changing encouragement. This investment of time and caring will reward both of you for eternity. The exciting mystery of your impact may never be known in this life, but again, you may make that joyful discovery, as did Mrs. Jewell Lanahan Rittenhouse. Give it a try, you’ll love it. Aspire to inspire before you expire. By the way, she lived to be 100 years and 6 months.