DECEMBER 2023 NEWSLETTER

                                                        December 2023 NEWSLETTER

                               

 

 When I was a ten-year-old boy, we played in the lot next door to our home.  We called it the foundation.  I don’t know why it was dug out, but my friends and I spent many hours in that foundation playing cops and robbers or cowboys and Indians and even make-believe war games with real toy guns.  

My brother, Edward, came home from the war and built a house on that foundation.  He made that house from the foundation to the roof all by himself.  I was ten years old and in his way constantly.  But I did learn a few things by watching Him.  First, he got into that foundation with a pick and shovel, squared it all up, dug what he called the footer, and poured cement.  He had to have the footers level, then laid the cinder blocks on top.  He laid three blocks, leveled three more, and leveled those all the way across.  That went fast, and he started laying the bricks on the cinder blocks.  This went much slower, but my ten-year-old mind saw this man laying 20 bricks and measuring 20 more and measuring.  I told him to stop counting and keep laying bricks, or he would never finish.  He said the house would fall over if he were one-sixteenth off at the end of the row.  With all that measuring, he did get the bricks laid and level, too.  He built the roof on top of all that.  He showed me the blueprint to finish up, and it was perfect.

The old foundation was now a house.  He finished all of it and finally moved in.  Around the house, he planted the sickliest-looking trees my little eyes had ever seen.  They were nothing but sticks.  I asked him if he believed those things would grow.  He answered, “You just watch and never know what to expect.”  He had to put a fence around each stick to keep my dog, Sport, from doing what dogs do to a fire hydrant or little sticks.

Well, the sticks survived the first winter.  Then, the spring brought out five leaves in those sticks.  I told him I didn’t have much hope for their survival.  He grinned at me and repeated, “You watch, and you never know what to expect.”  

 Another winter and then spring, the sticks now had limbs on them, and, low and behold, a pretty flower appeared on one of the funny-looking sticks.  We watched in anticipation and saw an apple form from that flower.   I made fun of him and asked if he would sell his produce.  One apple in two years is not very productive, to say the least.

Still, another winter and spring came to show many flowers and apples.  Finally, he had enough apples to share with Mother and Dad.  Each year, the apple trees give more fruit.  Finally, it came to where my brother had to prune those trees because the little sticks were more like bushes now, but when he cut away the no good branches, those trees produced even more fruit.

 My brother is in his heavenly home now, and someone else lives there.  But those trees produce more fruit than you can imagine.  Of course, he was patient and got everything he expected from that apple tree, but he took much care and kept doing everything right for their growth and maturity.

 When I became a Christian, Jesus planted in me.  Just like that apple tree, I needed the right care.  I was a baby stick.  But I produced fruit as I grew, and God was using me.  The apple tree needed pruning and never fought back when its branches were cut, but it produced more fruit by cutting away the old.  I bulked at the cutting off of my dead works.  I told the vinedresser, my Lord and Savior, it hurt too much, and I spent a long time as a non-producer.  Finally, I realized how fuzzy my branches had become and called out to the vinedresser to do what he thought was best for me.  He pruned me, cutting away all the sins I had growing all over me, and showered me with blessings by showing me how much He loves me daily.  Now I am waiting for the fruit to come back, double.  Are your branches shaggy or pruned and ready to bear more fruit?

                     

                       I used to say:

            Only one life will soon be past

            Only what is done for Christ will last.

 

            Now I say:

                      Only one life soon passed by,

            Only what should have been done for Christ

            Makes me know how time does fly.

            It is almost over now,

            And before the mercy seat, I will bow

            1 ask forgiveness for the loss of time

            And a seat at the foot of the table will be mine.1

1.     Robert Lindenberger, Wounded Heart, Healed Heart, Epilog

 

2023: Old fishermen never die; they just smell that way!  Old age ain’t four sissies!  And one more: Old men dream dreams, which means our heads are so full of memories that we must think them over and over.  So, let this fix a little of the above.  I was 11 years old and got my first job working with my brother for $2.00 weekly.  And almost a teenager when he planted his apple trees.  I loved eating the fruit of his labor.  He even sent Me apples when I was in the Navy.