Jeff Hampton – Jeff Hampton, Writer

December 20, 2024

Moving Forward

For Wilshire Baptist Church

On the way to our house for Thanksgiving dinner, my mother’s aging Chevy Equinox SUV suddenly stalled and she had to coast across a lane of traffic and into an apartment parking lot. She called me on her cell phone, frightened and frazzled, and I rushed to the rescue, but within about an hour her vehicle was towed to a service garage and we were at our house enjoying the feast including the food she prepared. It couldn’t have worked out any better than that, but as is often the case, it was just the beginning of another major change in her life.

December 12, 2024

This Little Light

For Wilshire Baptist Church

Tuesday night we drove to Waco for a concert presented by Baylor’s Chamber Singers in the Foyer of Meditation at the Armstrong Browning Library. Seldom do venue and talent combine in such a magnificent way, and our ears were still ringing with crystalline solos and well-woven harmonies as we drove back across Central Texas in the dark.

I describe the trip that way because while most folks we know will jump on Interstate 35 in Dallas and get off in Waco, we take a different route and have for years. We drive Interstate 45 to Corsicana and then cross the countryside of Central Texas on State Highway 31. It’s a little bit longer than the more direct path of I-35, but there’s less traffic on I-45 — fewer big rigs racing between Mexico and Canada — and almost no traffic of any kind on 31. What’s more, you see things on 31 you don’t see from the interstate. That’s true during the day but even more so after dark and especially in December when you see the lights of Christmas.

December 5, 2024

Making Room for Advent

For Wilshire Baptist Church

My desk had become a wicked mess, with piles of papers stacked so high there was danger of them collapsing into one big pile that avalanched onto the floor.

The mess was a testament to recent months where I was so busy and buffeted from one project to another that my desk became a dumping ground for anything and everything. For a while there was evidence of attempted cleanup when I had some sorted stacks on the floor, but those had to go back on the desk in crisscross piles when I started bringing home papers to sort from George Gagliardi’s apartment.

I finally decided enough was enough when I couldn’t see half of my computer screen and there was no place to park a cup of coffee. I need both of those for work.