more about this sight

"you're packing a suitcase for a place that you've never been...a place that has to be believed to be seen"...'Walk On' by U2

WATERSHED: A voice in the wilderness. DARYL UNDERWOOD.


The concept of Centerpoint Christianity briefly stated is:

Christianity from the centerpoint outward.

Christianity from the climax forward.

This blog constitutes concepts for a new view of Christianity that begins with what is foundational and moves forward from that point. It is based on the assumption that we are being pulled towards something unseen and pushed from a place that once was.

What Centerpoint Christianity attempts to do is bypass some of the constraints imposed by metanarratives by using the life of Christ and particularly the climactic actions of Christ as beginning points.

It supports the conviction that God is essentially timeless. From this beginning point we endeavor to move outward from the definitive moment of the parousia (visitation) of Christ and forward to the future which functions as a type of magnet to "what can be--and is coming".

When we begin at the life of Christ and move outward as from the centerpoint of a web, rather than in a linear timeline of history, another wide picture emerges.

Powered by Squarespace
« God's resolve amidst the human dilemma | Main | welcome »

in memory of my father....

Dad died on April 1st, 2011.

My father's wife, Twila, told me a story about him the other day. She had married dad when he was 74 after my mom had passed away. My dad was always such an independent man. He always tried to do it all alone. Which wasn't easy given his advanced age and personal handicap. Once while running his hounds in the fields he did something that he only shared in detail to his beloved. She hid it in her heart until our phone conversation. Then she opened this particular oyster and gave me a glimpse of a pearl I had never seen before. She unwrapped it like a birthday gift on this day-which would have been my father's eighty-fifth birthday-with gentle care. Her rendition was so much more colorful and vivid than the one I write here. I wish I could recall her every word. The event was recalled with much love and affection. So tenderly spoken.

It seems one day as shadows began to fall and dusk was coming down dad fell to his knees and asked for help. He asked God for help. He was on the way to the end and was prison kept. He knew it. He was on the long walk to the final curtain. We all make our way to the gallows. As we grow old the shadow draws closer. Instinct and the inevitable odds tell us we have an appointment drawing nigh. But on this day, in these fields, something happened. Carl Obie Underwood stopped along the way, opened the curtain, and had a last supper with Jesus. It was then and there that he was set free. 

My father prayed. He and God met in the fields of Tennessee. But there is something more I want to tell you.

Not long after that day he was baptized. This was especially courageous for dad. You see dad had one arm and it was always difficult for him to be seen in public. He lost his arm in a car crash when he was forty-one. I was twelve. I am certain that he avoided the public scene because of this. He seldom went to any of my games in high school when I was young. I never held it against him. I think I understood. It was hard to be out there and be so visible.

It's like being naked and everyone can see your wounds.

Which is why that next thing he did was so amazing. To be right there up front for all to see. For my dad to be baptised at an old age was an act of commitment. To bend his knee was an act of faith. This past September 9th he would have turned eighty-five years old. 

I discovered this song about a week after dad's birthday. The song prompted me to write this entry. This song was the last song recorded by Johnny Cash before he died. Dad loved Johnny Cash. They came from the same era. They both reached out in the end. They were tough old birds, too. That was Uncle Del's words. He said it through tears at the funeral home in Woodbury. It helped him not to cry. Men from that generation try not to cry. So they say tough sounding stuff. I understood what he meant. He loved his brother.

The rest you should understand without too much explanation. Rest in peace my father. I will see on the other side when day is done. And I vow that I will not give away your harmonica for a bag of M and M's. I will keep it here by my heart. And I'll never forget the song you played.

Here is the song...


Reader Comments

There are no comments for this journal entry. To create a new comment, use the form below.

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.

My response is on my own website »
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Some HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <i> <strike> <strong>