Worthy of Approval

Andy and Christy Wimberly

Andy Wimberly—self described “financial advisor with a twist”—probably has more best friends than anybody I know. He serves on so many community and charitable boards that his wife Christy tells me if he joined one more he could go to a meeting every day of the month. One of his favorite volunteer jobs is the coordinating and emceeing for Tuesday Men’s Stories, one of the most dynamic and popular outreach ministries at Jackson’s First Baptist Church. Each week, the Fellowship Hall is packed with a few hundred men who come to eat lunch and to hear other men tell their personal stories of faith. The ages of the regular attendees encompass three or four generations and the denominational mix goes far beyond Southern Baptists. Friendships run deep, lives are touched and changed, and it is clear that everybody is having fun. With his quick wit and contagious energy, Andy has really spent his whole life training for this position. He just never knew it as life was unfolding.

He has his own real and powerful Jesus-changed-me kind of story, and as June Milam, a high school classmate who knows the before and after Andy Wimberly says, “He doesn’t want  anyone NOT to know our Savior, Jesus Christ and to that end, he never misses an opportunity to be a witness for Him. Andy doesn’t mind becoming vulnerable and expressing his own feelings.” I would add, he doesn’t shy away from telling you the things in his life he wishes he had done differently, but he does so in a way that you’re always drawn to Jesus and never to the drama of his circumstances.

Defining Moments

Andy grew up in Jackson. His mom and dad divorced when he was very small. Dorothy Wimberly worked hard to provide for Andy and his older brother. “I don’t know how she did everything she did,” Andy says. Sunday school was an every week requirement in their house, and even though Andy made no great professions of faith, he credits his mom with providing that spiritual base in his childhood.

One of Andy’s early defining moments came when he left his neighborhood elementary school for Bailey Junior High School. At the time, it was the upscale place to be. He immediately picked out the group he wanted as friends. He describes wanting to fit in with the kids “who lived in two story houses” and whose parents were the Capital City’s “high society.” And of course, he charmed his way right in. It was then that Andy adopted the principle that would define his life for years to come—approval. He had to have it.

If seeking approval was his most notable trait, then his total disinterest in tomorrow registered a close second. What did he want to be when he grew up? “I never gave the slightest thought to it,” he says. He had not come from a family where college was a likely option, but when he noticed that the group he ran with were all going to college, he thought he needed to try that, too. So, he borrowed $750 and enrolled at Millsaps, where he says half seriously, “I think I probably had the lowest GPA of any student in the history of the school. School was just not interesting to me.” In fact, Andy went back and forth between Belhaven and Millsaps for several years, but never graduated.

However, one thing God did not waste in Andy’s career at Millsaps was a bowling class he chose as an elective. Here he was, going to college on borrowed money, not really sure why he was going to college at all, but when he showed up for the first class, the bowling alley manager offered him a part time job. He could surely use the money and so he jumped at the chance. He says his main interests in those days were “girls” and “fun” and the bowling alley job was helpful in supporting both of those interests in the short term.

“I worked there for four years and met thousands of people—everyone—from all walks of life.” He says, “I also learned to do 72 things at once!” The multitasking helped him succeed at business later on, he says.

When he left the bowling alley, he got a job selling life insurance. Initially, he was assured a “draw” designed to help him pay his bills until he established his own clients and moved to a commission based salary. In the beginning Andy, in his “live-for-today” mode, enjoyed getting a regular paycheck, but spent his afternoons at the movies instead of beating the bushes for new business. The “Day of Reckoning” came when his boss told him that his debits were exceeding the credits and he had thirty days to either produce or pack up his desk and leave.

Andy was twenty-two and single. He was determined that he would not go home on Friday until he had seen twenty one potential clients that week. Even without the college diploma, he possessed a determination not to fail. He was absolutely driven to prove himself. And he did. That year his company named him “Man of the Year.”

Selling and endearing himself to people came as easily to Andy in the business world as it had during his Bailey Junior High days. Over the next few years, his approval seeking tendencies and his drive to succeed made him a lot of money, but despite his charm and downright likeability, he explains, “If I had to run over one person to get to the next, I would do it in a heartbeat. It was all about me.”

Seeking More

“All about me” worked pretty well in business for a while, but it took a toll in his personal life. He had a wife, two sons and a daughter, but he was rarely home. He rationalized that all the hours he spent away from home was “for them” because, after all, his success meant their lifestyle. The reality of those years was that he felt like his children were a “duty,” rather than a relationship to cherish and cultivate. “I didn’t have time to have time with them. I was busy working. I was busy drinking, or I was busy playing golf with my buddies so that I could get more business and prove to the world in an ever bigger way how successful I was.”

After nineteen years he and his wife, Deedee, whom he calls “a great lady” divorced. She died a year and a half later. Andy was 47 years old, knew a lot about  reaching business goals, closing the deal and getting what he wanted, but he realized that life as he had been doing it was really not working.

When Andy met Christy Horton at Annandale Golf Club, he was semi-searching for a meaningful life in between relapses to his addictive approval seeking. She was recovering from her own failed marriage and deciding what to do with the rest of her life.

Andy and Christy married four years later and joined the First Baptist Church. Christy laughs describing them as “Wind me up and go to church Christians.” It was good to sit on the front row and be seen although both Andy and Christy, by that time, were starting to realize that the meaning in life they were both seeking had something to do with a relationship with God. They were looking for clues on how to make that happen.

Searching for Peace

The “before” Andy tells the frank (no pun intended) story of being constantly exposed to Frank Pollard’s Sunday morning sermons. In the beginning, he viewed Sunday morning church as an exercise in good behavior. It was all about approval seeking. He was always checking his watch and reasoning, “If Frank would just preach a little shorter, I could grab lunch, hit some balls on the practice tee, and play a good enough round of golf to win back the hundred dollars I lost yesterday.” That was church until he began to listen a little closer, hear God’s voice a little louder, and notice the younger couple, obviously quite sick, who shuffled down the aisle and sat on the pew opposite the Wimberly’s week after week.

Bubba Cox was dying of cancer. His wife Cindy had MS and was in rapid decline, but they were always there—quietly, completely out of the limelight, wearing some authentic inexplicable peace, winsomeness, and joy that mystified the Wimberlys. Finally, Andy, in typical Andy-mode, asked Bubba to explain to him, how in the world he held on to that kind of joy and peace when he had no money, lots of medical bills, and a not-too-great prognosis. Bubba cleverly replied, “I used to believe in God.”

Of course, Andy, who says he was just beginning to grasp the concept of knowing Christ scratched his head and asked under his breath, “Now who do you believe in?”

Bubba said, “Now I don’t just believe IN God, I believe God and all of his promises.” And so began an incredible friendship of two opposites who encouraged each other in countless ways over the next few years. When Andy talks about heroes, he always puts Bubba at the top of the list. Andy, the consummate business wheeler dealer quick-on-the-draw jokester had never met anyone whose relationship with Jesus was as real as Bubba’s. In all the years that Andy had spent searching for meaning by making more and more money and winning the approval of others, peace had eluded him again and again. Bubba, in many ways, became his mentor as well as his friend. When Bubba died, it was Andy whom he asked to give his eulogy.

While Andy was developing a close friendship with Bubba, God was working on Christy as well. She was tuned into Frank Pollard’s messages and being challenged by Andy Taggart’s Sunday school lessons. From somewhere within she told herself, “I don’t want to just talk about being a Christian. I want to BE one.” It was 1996 when she announced, with no fanfare, “You know, I’ve never read the Bible through. I am going to do that.” It was all very casual in the beginning, but Andy began to note that even when they traveled Christy kept the commitment. She would sit and read her Bible for a time each day. As her love for the Word of God grew, her desire to please Him grew, too. She was starting to exhibit the same brand of peace he had spotted in Bubba Cox.

A Renewed Spirit

On March 21, 1999—he knows because he wrote it down—Andy took his Bible off the shelf and began to read it with a fresh hunger. And nothing has been the same ever since. There was hardly anybody who did not notice that Andy Wimberly’s life changed from “It’s all about me,” to “It’s all about Christ.” He was still the likeable guy with the outgoing personality who said witty things and made people laugh, who could think on his feet, and talk his way in and out of anything, but there was a depth and a sincerity that had not been there before.

Close friend, Bill Eubank met Andy in 1973. Their relationship in those days was all about business, but Bill’s impression of his client was one who was “loaded with confidence and ambition” and “full of himself.” They parted ways when Andy decided Bill fell short of his expectations in referrals of new business. Even though they attended the same church, their paths did not cross a great deal until Andy called Bill for lunch nine years ago. This time it was not about business. Bill describes a transformation that changed the “full of himself” kind of guy into a man whose principal priority of life is to be “full of Jesus. The pride that once dominated his life has been replaced with a humble spirit, intent on serving others. His love for the Lord and his love for people is expressed in his actions.”

Andy once told Bill that he could not understand why we wait until someone dies to express how much they meant to us. With that in mind, Bill says, “Andy began to take action and tell people what they meant to him…and he led others to do the same.” A recent example was a DVD he made of the Tuesday Men’s Stories. His much loved friend and former pastor, Frank Pollard, had begun the ministry thirty years ago. In recent years with failing health, he was still a regular attendee until he moved to California to be close to family in his last days.

The video was obviously not just any video. It was a celebration of Dr. Pollard’s influence with portions of sermons and what Bill Eubank calls, “that inimitable wit that Frank possessed.” At the end of the video Andy had men in the room hold up signs with messages like, “We love you, Frank,” “You’re my hero,” and more. Everything was combined on a DVD complete with soundtrack and sent to Dr. Pollard. Two weeks later he passed away, but his wife Jane says that he watched it over and over again.

With the enthusiasm of a little boy on Christmas morning, Andy tries to squeeze every drop of living out of each day. But the happiness he used to get by gaining the approval of the world, he now gets by following in the footsteps of Jesus Christ. The man whose ambitions used to center on self, now center on making a difference in people’s lives. “I would like to help as many people as possible to get ‘untrapped,’” he says. “Almost everybody is trapped by something…spiritually, relationally, financially. I was trapped by approval from others and things of the world.” No one has ever accused Andy of being shy. While he is working on the “untrapping strategy,” he is forever introducing everyone to the One who untrapped him.