by Norman Wood Recently, my wife and I were privileged to attend the home-going celebration of a saint of God. Over the years I have supplied the pulpit occasionally at the Bible Methodist Church in Cordele, Georgia. Whenever I did, I could count on there being a beaming white-haired sister sitting about three rows from the front on the left-hand side. Her radiant countenance and ready smile would just pull the “preaching” right out of you. This past January she suffered a stroke which...


