I know it will be hard for some of you to believe, but I wasn't always brilliant. In fact, when I was a young preacher they wanted me to wear "D.D." after my name. In my case it didn't stand for Doctor of Divinity, but Dangerously Dumb! Our family moved to work with a large church in a small West Tennessee town. Because I had a daily radio program as well as an article in the weekly newspaper, people came to know me and I had many funerals there. One of the funeral directors -- we called them undertakers back then -- was about the age of my father. Charlie liked mules and turkeys and, well, he kind of took me under wing.
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Don't wait until the funeral
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