Mr. Riggins & God

I moved a lot as a child. I mean a lot. For instance, between the day I was born and the day I graduated High School my family lived in 37 different houses. I went to countless elementary schools and finally four high schools. No, my dad was not in the military. No, my family was not in the witness protection program. For whatever reason, which remains a mystery to me today, we moved a lot.

I have vivid memories of a particular house that was located on the corner of Glenwood Drive and a busy California state highway. I remember this house well because we suffered a brush fire behind and on the side of our house one hot dry summer. As a young girl, being the oldest of 6 kids and in charge of them while my parents worked, seeing red flashing movement through my baby brothers race car bedroom curtains scared me to death. (We all got out of the house safely and had no damage either.) I also remember the hordes of neighborhood kids that congregated on our little cement front porch. This was the cool place to hang out. Seriously, it was cool. It was always shaded and in the 100+ degree days, there was no other porch you'd want to sit on.

Down the street about 6 houses and on the same side as our house there lived a tall old man with rich black hair. I'm sure he must have used Grecian Formula. This man seemed really old to me! (However, I wonder if he wasn't my age now.). Mr. Riggins. I can't remember if he had a wife or kids. But he was a nice old guy who always invited me and the other neighborhood hoodlums - um, I mean kids, over for cold lemonade and cookies. This was his "hook" to keep us there while he read from a dusty old book...something called The Bible.

All the kids thought Mr. Riggins was a nerd but they really liked the lemonade on those hot California days. They would be nice to him while we were in his house then as soon as his door would shut behind us, they would call him names and say mean things about his "religion." I played along so my friends didn't think I was a nerd too.

Most of the time the things that Mr. Riggins read from the Bible seemed really interesting to me and I actually wanted to ask questions. But that would be signing my death certificate if my friends caught wind of this. So, I began to sneak down to the Riggins' house without my friends so that I could have total freedom to pick this man's mind and learn more about God. Mr. Riggins became a great teacher to me and naturally I was devastated when I overheard my parents talking in our living room about beginning the search for a new home. I told Mr. Riggins of our pending move - he saw how upset I was and asked me if I've ever prayed. I hadn't really other than praying I'd find a brand new portable cassette player/recorder under the Christmas tree that year. Mr. Riggins explained that Jesus really wanted me to talk with Him through prayer...to tell him that I was upset, sad and confused. "God why do we have to move all the time? I feel like luggage. Why unpack? Making friends and then leaving them hurts so much!" Mr. Riggins explained to me how to talk with God. He also showed me the Lord's Prayer in the Bible and I loved that! I worked so hard to memorize it and there would never be a night that I didn't say that prayer before my eyes fell to slumber.

The day came. The big move. Lots of family over to help load up every pick-up truck and van within a 10 mile radius. Off to a new house, new school, new friends...again. Before we said our final good bye to Glenwood Drive I asked my mom if she could drive me down to Mr. Riggins house so I could say good bye to him too. As I got out of our rusty little car and sadly approached his front door I was surprised when he opened it before I even had time to knock. In his hands were a portable bottle filled with his famous lemonade and a small container of cookies. He smiled at me and I smiled back, his kindness was overwhelming, even to a young girl. I told him that I'd miss our times talking about the Bible and all it's characters, especially God and His son, Jesus. Just then, from no where, he suddenly had a Bible in his hand. Slowly and surely he held it out in front of me and said, "DeAnn, keep asking questions, take this Bible and continue to read the story, the greatest story ever told." My very own Bible? I couldn't believe it! Wow and it's from Mr. Riggins - my great teacher. I didn't know what to say. I can only hope that I said thank you.

So, off to a new house, new school, new neighborhood - but this time with my own Bible and with the know-how on praying. God was tracking with me even when I was a little girl. He put Mr. Riggins on Glenwood Drive knowing that my parents would move our family there. God wanted me to meet Mr. Riggins. And through my times with him, I met God.

I never saw Mr. Riggins after that day. But I've thought of him thousands of times over the years. And I think he'd be happy to know that God used him significantly to reveal Himself to me. And that I still have the Bible he gave me, my very first Bible.