I visited a local religious bookstore the
other day on Guam. As I walked through the store, I found a book authored by David Hyles
in their “Clearance” section called “THE
OTHER SHORE” for only $2.99. I had never heard about the book, and at
first thought it was written by Pastor Jack Hyles (1926-2001), because I
instantly noticed his face on the book cover. But when I saw that the book
was written by David Hyles, I was happy and elated to have found such a
wealth of information!
No doubt many people would have despised the book, and left it on the shelf, because of the highly publicized sins and mistakes of David Hyles from long ago. May I say, I was honored to buy David's book! If that bothers you, then carefully consider that the Psalms was penned by an adulterer and murderer! The only difference between David Hyles and anybody else is found in 1st Timothy 5:24, “Some men's sins are open beforehand, going before to judgment; and some men they follow after. Likewise also the good works of some are manifest beforehand; and they that are otherwise cannot be hid.”
I don't care who you are—you are a dirty, lowdown, woeful SINNER! Yes, you certainly are! I am a big sinner and so are you! If you disagree, you are calling God a liar! 1st John 2:10, “If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.” One wicked man on the internet accused me of “defending” David Hyles. I am not defending anyone who does wrong, but I am not condemning anybody either! James 4:12,“There is one lawgiver, who is able to save and to destroy: who art thou that judgest another?” Woe unto the person who points fingers, accuses and holds a grudge! God said that, not me! James 5:9, “Grudge not one against another, brethren, lest ye be condemned: behold, the judge standeth before the door.”
The following is quoted from chapter one of the book. The chapter is called, “Just Above The Clouds.” I love this truth, and it will help you too if you'll let it. Here goes...
Just Above The Clouds
by Dave Hyles
“He that observeth the wind shall not sow; and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap.” (Ecclesiastes 11:4)
BECAUSE IT WAS AT the last moment, we were unable to get seats together on the airplane for the trip to Indiana to visit my dad in the hospital. My two daughters, Amy and Bethany, sat together in the middle of the plane while my wife Brenda and I sat in the front row of the coach section. Normally, I choose to sit by the aisle, but no aisle seats were available; so Brenda sat in the middle, and I sat by the window. It was an overcast day in Tampa—a stormy looking morning. Even in the darkness of the early hours, a person could see the clouds hovering above. It was the first flight that would leave Tampa on this morning.
The airplane taxied out to the runway and then began to move slowly until accelerating more and more to the point where finally we lifted off the ground and into the air. Almost immediately upon takeoff, we were in the clouds. The plane was tossed about a bit to and fro in the turbulence of the morning skies. For several minutes, we continued to rise through the clouds. It was dark, stormy, and cloudy, not just outside, but also in my heart. I did not know what I was about to face, but I was filled with fear. I was not even certain that my dad was still alive.
Finally after several minutes, our plane came through the clouds. No longer were the clouds above us or around us; they were below us. As I could see them still through the dark sky, off in the horizon, the sun was beginning to peak. It's glorious rays would soon lift above the horizon and light the skies above those clouds. After a few minutes of watching the sun come up, suddenly I saw a very glorious, beautiful sight. Below me were pillows of clouds, thick, white, and stunning; off in the distance was the breathtaking morning sun. As I sat in my seat looking out the window, my heart filled with fear and anticipation of what was to come. A thought came into my mind; it was something my dad had often said when he would talk about his life and how he stayed on “topside,” as he would put it. He would often say, “I have lived my life just somewhere just a little above the clouds.”
I began to cry. The sweetness of that thought turned to the fear of the future. I actually began to wonder if God was laying on my heart that which would be my funeral message for my father. For most of the remainder of the flight, I wept as the entire trip from Tampa, Florida to Chicago, we flew above a thick bed of billowy clouds. As we flew, I thought about my dad's life; somehow Dad had managed to walk just a little above the clouds. He did not live his life under the clouds like most people; he lived life above them to where he could see the sun. Perhaps there is nothing that describes the ability that my dad had to be happy like the statement, “I have lived my life somewhere just a little above the clouds.”
He lived his life just a little above the clouds of betrayal when those who had once called themselves friends turned their backs on him. He lived a little above the clouds of criticism and slander when people judged his heart, his motives, and his actions unjustly. He lived a little above the clouds of attacks by enemies who sought to destroy his prosperous ministry. He lived a little above the clouds of goodbyes as he parted from loved ones or loved ones parted from him. He lived a little above the clouds of death that had oft greeted him in his 74 years of life.
He lived a little above the clouds of gossip, not only about himself, but also about others whom he loved. He lived a little above the clouds of hatred even though in his heart he was truly a lover, yet still managed to rise above those clouds of hatred and not allow those clouds to cover the sunshine in his heart. He lived a little above the clouds of false accusations by those who chose to make unscriptural accusations against him that were not true. He lived a little above the clouds of controversy that often swirled about him not because of something he had done wrong, but because of the principles by which he lived so carefully.
He lived a little above the clouds of loneliness as he walked through many airports and slept alone in many hotels, trying to do what he could for God. He lived a little above the clouds of weariness as he worked tirelessly to help others. He lived a little above the clouds of separation as he spent so many nights away from the love of his life, his own wife.
He lived a little above the clouds of pain and sickness as for years he managed to overcome the pain that was more excruciating than any of us knew as he continued to do the work that God had sent him to do. He lived a little above the clouds of doubt and fear while others trembled from circumstances. He refused to allow circumstances to draw him under the cloud. He lived a little above the clouds of disappointments from people who simply let him down. He lived a little above the clouds of injustice that often surfaced against him by preachers as well as former church members who chose to act as judge and jury.
These clouds could not cast a shadow on him because he walked above them, not below them. The rain they sent fell to where only his shadow stood because he stood above these clouds. Their winds blew where he should have walked, but their winds could not have hit him for he walked above the clouds. Where the darkness covered the earth below, he was seeing the sunshine above!
The clouds were not his ceiling but his carpeting; they were not his sky but his footstool. The clouds did not cover his light but cushioned his feet. These clouds did not hover ominously about him but lay innocently below him. They were not stormy burdens but ways of peace.
So how did he help so many who were overcome by clouds? This perhaps was the greatness of Jack Hyles; he did not come down under their clouds to encourage them; he lifted them up above to where he walked above the clouds. Preachers brought Jack Hyles to their churches to preach, not so that he could walk with them under their clouds, but so he could lift them and their churches above the clouds that had hovered above their churches and ministries. When he walked into the pulpit of First Baptist Church of Hammond, he somehow managed to lift thousands above the clouds so they could see the sunshine. The lines of people who stood outside his office for counseling often did not come in order to figure out how to find an umbrella for the rain in their lives, but rather to find a journey above the rain and above the clouds.
Somehow, though the clouds constantly tried to hover above him, he always managed to climb a ladder of belief and faith to a place above the clouds where he could see the sun rather than feel the storm.
In March of 1999, a monsoon came into his life. In one day, he discovered that he had a heart disease; and on that same day, my son, his grandson, and his namesake, Jack David Hyles, died. The thick, dark clouds, more menacing perhaps than any that had ever come into his life, gathered in his way. How could he go on? There was only one way. He had to do what he had done for all of those many years; he had to climb the stairway of faith again and walk above those menacing clouds. How could he be so sick and yet go on? He was walking just a little above the clouds. How could he lose his grandson and go on? He was walking just a little above the clouds.
It is interesting to me that on the day of his viewing, the day where thousands would walk by and see his body lying in state in the First Baptist Church of Hammond, Indiana, it was a cloudy, gloomy, stormy day. Death had cast its shadow over all of us. I felt a sense of gloom that day as the clouds took away our sunshine. Saturday morning, the day of his funeral, the day the casket would be placed into the crypt, I awoke and looked out the window of our hotel room; and there were no clouds in the sky—only the beautiful sunshine. There was a mourning group of Christians across the country and the world, a mourning church, and a mourning family. I believe that somehow from Heaven, with God's permission, Dad was lifting up the clouds that had so covered them for several days to where we could see the sun shine once again.
When Dad was in the hospital, he talked to me about the fact he had been a busy man, and he had not had the time to spend with his grandchildren. To my niece and to me privately, he said, “Son, no matter what happens, even if I am not able to go on with my ministry, when I get out of this hospital, I think I could enjoy just being a grandpa.”
As he lay in the hospital, the clouds of death hovered above him, but once again the clouds failed to land a shadow on their intended target. For somewhere far above the clouds, Dr. Jack Hyles was running down the streets of gold with his little grandson, Jack David, on his shoulders--just being a grandpa.
SOURCE: David Hyles, “THE OTHER SHORE,” pages 15-20; ©2001, Jack Hyles Press; ISBN 097112270-9.
I
always feel compelled to speak a word in defense, not of Dave Hyles' sins
and mistakes, but in defense of the accused. Please hear me out dear reader.
