The self-titled debut of Imagine This is pretty difficult to define. Hard rock is what I generally think of first but it has an alternative feel and shades of disco and even some rap, but overall it just plain rocks. It also contains a couple of songs that were probably an attempt to get a little airplay on Christian radio. Usually when I grabbed this CD it was because I was in the mood for some good, hard rockin’ songs with catchy melodies and hooks. Most of the time when I would hit those slower, almost power ballad types of songs, I would just skip them and go on to the next track. “Bishop of Souls” was one of those songs. Little did I know that this song would become not only my favorite song on the CD, but it would be part of such a major impact on my life.

It was Thursday, September 1, 1994. I had recently been laid off from Von Roll only a month earlier and decided to start my own business. I was in my car doing something business related that I can’t recall, but I was listening to this CD when Kathy called me to let me know that her grandmother, whom I only knew as Mamaw, had passed away. She was 93 years old. As I headed back to the house I remember I first prayed for a little while but then decided to turn the music back on to distract my mind. The CD was right at the chorus of “Bishop of Souls” and the first thing I heard was this:

Oh, the Bishop of my soul is calling me home

The song instantly became real to me and over the next several weeks I listened to this song almost exclusively.

Kathy and I had only been married a little over six years at that time. Our house is on family property that Mamaw and Papaw had given her parents and they in turn gave her. I never knew Papaw personally since he passed away before I was a part of the family, but their house was just up the drive within a short walking distance and we pass by it every day. It’s a small house but full of big memories for the entire family. The Bobos are special. Mamaw and Papaw had three sons and two daughters, and I will not even attempt to tell you how many grandkids and great-grandkids. Kathy’s uncle James moved to Texas long before we were married and all of his kids were already grown and had families of their own, yet every year a good number of them would make the trek to Georgia, spread out amongst the family and we would have this huge family reunion at Mamaw’s house. Even when the Texas Bobos were not in town the Georgia Bobos would regularly get together at that little house.

We have so many pictures of the entire family sitting on that front porch; each photo revealing the family’s growth in age as well as numbers. We all could not fit in the house so that front porch and yard was our gathering place. In that yard around that big old oak tree we played wiffle ball, frisbee, passed footballs and baseballs while watching the kids play tag and other games. We ate, caught up on all the family news that we already knew anyways and just had some of the best times of our lives together. Mamaw would just sit and watch and laugh at our antics and the air was full of everyone’s laughter. The seats next to Mamaw were never vacant and on a constant rotation of family members of all ages.

Since we lived so close to Mamaw, we would visit her quite often. Kathy and the kids more than me but still I remember spending quite a bit of time with her. I really never got the chance to speak with her much because Kathy is a hair dresser so she does most the talking. Still I would watch her and listen to her. I loved to watch her play with the girls and Stephen. She had this big rubber ball that she kept and toddler Stephen would sit in the floor and pass it back and forth to her the whole time we were visiting. According to adult Stephen, he still has that ball. I also remember watching her softly applaud as Katie and Melissa would show her their latest dance moves they had learned. I found these acts pretty amazing because it was obvious to me at that time in her life that her hands were in constant pain.

From the pain, the Bishop of my soul is calling me home

What beautiful hands she had. Sure, they were old and wrinkled and as I said, I could tell by the way she would rub them and the look on her face that they were the source of much pain. Yet you could see in her hands years and years of working the land, preparing chickens from the coop to the stove to the table, dealing with James, Geneva and Harold (which was a full time job in itself from what I’ve heard), and feeding the road workers from the prison when they would stop to rest in her yard. Those hands did not have the luxuries of microwaves and instant pots. Yet those hands were so gentle with each of us. Those hands had spent hours on end flipping through one of the most well-worned bibles I have ever seen. I believe those hands had actually touched the hem of her Savior’s garment. Those hands were the hands of Jesus because she treated each and every person as if they were His hands. What Would Jesus Do? Mamaw didn’t have to ask that question; she just did.

I’d see her look at me
Her eyes were icons of a faith I’d never known

I don’t recall any particular conversation with Mamaw, but what I do remember are her eyes when she talked to me. She truly had a faith I’ve never known and you could see it in her eyes. When she talked to me it was as if she was looking way beyond me and deep into my soul. It felt like she was sitting in the lap of Jesus and in her mind she was talking to Him about me. You could feel her prayers when you were in her presence. She could be talking about anything that wasn’t even spiritual and yet I could sense God’s Spirit pricking me and encouraging me just by being there. Her eyes smiled all the time and they were the eyes of grace. No condemnation; nothing to worry about; just eyes of grace resulting from a deep seated faith. A faith that knew who she was in Christ and saw who I could be if I would just let go and take that leap of faith into His loving arms right there beside her.

Finally free from the shackles of a dying world
They say she sang with the voice of an angel that day

As I drove by her house on my way home today and I was listening to this song, as always it brought tears to my eyes. Not because of that porch sitting empty or the missing oak tree that lightning stole away from us and not because of the loss of Mamaw. She’s where we all truly long to be, with Jesus. She truly has escaped the cares and pain of this world and is singing with angels at this very moment. She is in the great cloud of witnesses right there with all our loved ones that have gone on before us cheering us on. I believe she is even still talking to Jesus about all of her family and lifting us up in supplication at this very moment. No, the tears now are because of my own shortcomings. I long to have the faith of Mamaw; I long to have the grace of Mamaw; I long to walk as close to Christ as Mamaw did. She was an example to us all of what being a Christian really is.

I have several of those grey haired ladies and men in my life with calluses on their knees from the hours they have spent in prayer and I am sure each one of you can testify to the same. Right now I ask that you think about those little ol’ prayer warriors from your past that you knew, loved and respected that have gone on before you. That one person that you knew you could go talk to about anything and you knew they meant it when they said they would pray for you. Picture that one in your mind and all the traits that influenced you when they were here with you and how they still influence you even today. Picture the Mamaw of your life. The writer of Hebrews 6:12 said to be “imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises.”

Now imagine what this world would be like if you and I became imitators of “The Mamaw” you are picturing in your mind. Imagine what would happen if we began to show the love of Christ as Mamaw did. Imagine what your family would become if we began to practice the walk, the patience, the strength, the courage, the grace, the faith and the love of Mamaw. Imagine what impact the body of Christ would have on this world if we each put our faith into action like this. If we would just do this, we would probably find that it really is not that difficult to Imagine This!

Rick E. France