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OF GRANDFATHER CLOCKS AND MEN
In July 1916 my great-grandfather built a grandfather clock. He built it on the family farm out of walnut trees likely growing right outside his front door. Around the same time, he also built a round dining room table. I said he built the clock in 1916. I have reason to believe that he actually built the case then, but that the clock works likely pre-dated that case by a fair amount of time. Actually, he built several pieces of furniture, since he was a cabinetmaker. But I want to concentrate on those two particular pieces of craftsmanship.
As long as I can remember, my grandmother, his daughter, has told me that the clock and table would someday belong to me. That, as the oldest son of the oldest son, it was part of my heritage. I have long looked forward to that day. Several years ago I received the table. I have just recently received the clock (long story, let’s not get into it).
The old clock has not consistently run in years. And even when it did run, it often would only do so while sitting to the right of the fireplace in the old family farmhouse. About a month ago my wife and I brought clock “home”, to our new home in the Atlanta area. The next day, my wife called a local “clock guy” and asked him to come take a look at it. He did. And he told us the clock was in excellent condition, for a 90-year-old clock, and that he saw no reason why it wouldn’t run again. It was that man who informed me of the likely more advanced age of the actual clockworks.
Well, we got the clock back a couple of days ago. It runs like a champ. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. A beautiful sounding chime too. I must say it nearly brought tears to my eyes (I say nearly because, after all, I’m a man. Men don’t cry over something liked a piece of furniture).
That started me thinking about heritage. The idea that that clock would one day be mine has been a large part of my psyche throughout my life. It connects me back to earlier generations of my family. In addition to the clock, I also have the privilege of possessing a collection of old books, some dating back to the 16th century. Many are bibles and religious books. Some are old school textbooks from the late 1800’s. And part of that collection is the v-mail my grandfather sent my grandmother during WWII. My grandmother and grandfather are gone now. Both having passed away in the 1980’s, so to have those items in my house is quite a treasure to me.
But, I have another heritage too. The above items are from my Dad’s side of the family. But the heritage bequeathed to me from my Mom’s side is equally important. In fact, more so.
No, I am not talking about heirloom treasures. I am speaking of a spiritual inheritance. You see, all four of my grandparents were (or are, my Mom’s Mom is still with us) tremendous human beings. But my Mom’s Dad, especially, left a huge legacy. Back in the 1960’s, the church denomination my Mom’s family belonged to began to decentralize its churches. They began to plant neighbor hood churches and move away from one or two large citywide congregations. When this happened my grandfather left his home church to be a part of the new church.
Now he did not have a grand education. He knew almost everything, but did so because he taught it to himself. He did not have a glamorous job; His entire professional life was spent in a knitting mill. But he was dedicated to his God. That local church was successful and prosperous on occasion, but was also small and on the verge of closing a few times too. It didn’t close, at least once, because my “Pop” would come open it for service on Sunday, even though no one else was there. He held just about every job at that church but preacher and teacher. And more often than not, he was also the yard man and janitor. But I bet if some people who knew him back then were to read this that would be news to them. He did what he did because he wanted to. Because he felt God would have him to. Not so people would recognize him as being something great. But great he was.
My education is better than was his. My professional positions have been more visible and considered by some to be more important than was his. But, if I could just be half the man he was, I would consider my life to be well lived. My wife may think I’m almost there, but I’m not so sure.
Consider what God has to say about heritage. In Isaiah 38:19 He says, “The living, only the living, can praise you as I do today. One generation makes known Your faithfulness to the next”. And he says this in Hebrews 12:1, “Therefore since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”
It is important to pass along spiritual truth and a grounding in the faith to the next generation. The “cloud of witnesses” referred to in Hebrews 12:1 was all the people mentioned in Hebrews 11, known as the “faith hall of fame”. We do not walk the Christian walk alone, and we are not the first to have done so.
However, in Luke 19:9-10 we find this, “This shows that salvation has come to this home today. This man was one of the lost sons of Abraham, and I, the Messiah, have come to search for and to save such souls as his”. While some of us do enjoy a great faith heritage, that heritage does not guarantee our place in God’s family. These verses refer to the tax collector Zacchaeus. He had a good heritage; he was a “son of Abraham”. But, that alone did not make him righteous. The good heritage did not save him just like a bad heritage would not have condemned him. His choices did both. He stood condemned for the bad choices he made, but was saved because he chose to change.
What about you? What is your heritage? Whether we live up to a good heritage, or live down a poor one, the choice is ours to make. A good heritage can get us down the road, but it won’t get us through the gates. Similarly, a poor heritage may have us staring at a noose, but we don’t have to put it around our neck.
As Joshua said to the children of Israel, “Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve…but as for me…I will serve the Lord.” (Joshua 24:15)
MILKSHAKES, HEARING LOSS, and COWS
We recently had a death in the family. Actually, within the past 5 weeks we have had 2 deaths. And, unfortunately, we will likely have another within the next few weeks.
On July 29 Karen's grandfather, Donald, went home to be with Jesus. I asked Karen about her memories of him. She said the 2 things that jumped out were: milkshakes and cows. Let me explain.
The milkshakes part is simply the prevalent memory of precious times with her "granddaddy". They would sit in the living room of his house and drink them together. She and I often do that now, and have several times since the funeral. Pleasant memories are good like that. They give us something that can connect us to a loved one who has gone home.
She has another memory that connects her to him: cows. He had about 75 acres on which he kept cattle. As he got older, I think his fondest times were spent driving his truck around that pasture checking on his cows. I would guess that nearly everyone who visited got taken out into that field at least once. I know I did. A few years after Karen and I were married he and I drove around that pasture and talked for quite a while. It is a memory of him that I will keep. And it is much more so for his family. Karen tells a story about driving around that field with him, and doing the driving herself. I am sure they were having a great time. And I am also sure that some time later someone bought a very tender steak.
When Karen was learning how to drive, she hit a cow! Well, in her words, she "tapped" a cow. I don't know what the reaction was at the time, but in years gone by it has become a very fond memory for her. And when she shared that story at the funeral home, she found out she wasn't the only one who ever hit a cow while driving around that field.
I have my own memories, and they have to do with his hearing. As long as I have been in the family he has had a hearing loss. The family was very quick to caution me that he didn't hear very well.Well, from my post as a semi-outside observer, I am not sure that was the case. While in the last few years it was apparent he couldn't hear very well, the first 10 or so years I was in the family I think he could hear everything, he just chose not to. I understand this, I was a classroom teacher for many years. It is best in the classroom for the teacher to hear everything, but choose not to hear certain things. I think it was like that for Donald.
In the very last few years, I do think his hearing became more and more a problem. But I observed several conversations between him and his oldest grandchild, Karen. There was never a time when it did not appear that he heard every word she said to him. Even when others were involved in the conversation, and he would occasionally ask them to repeat themselves, he never did that with Karen. He always seemed to hear her and know what she was saying. He would always respond to her properly in context.
That was important because we made a trip up from FL in December to see him just after he was diagnosed with cancer. Karen wanted to talk to him about eternity and his spiritual condition. Of course, he was good man. I even heard some in the family say "if he didn't get into heaven there was no hope for any of us". But being a "good man" does not qualify someone for heaven. It did not qualify Donald. And the family member was right, to a point. There is no hope for any of us, if we base getting into heaven on our goodness.
So we came up to talk to Donald about that. To be sure he was ready to go. And the only way to be ready is to have trusted Jesus as your Savior and asked Him to forgive your sins. Karen went in to have that conversation with him. As she began to talk, some who were with me in another room were sure he couldn't hear her. Twice they said to me he didn't know what she was saying. Both times, as soon as they said that, we would hear him respond to Karen completely in context. And his responses gave us the assurance that he, indeed, was ready to meet God.
So the good news is we do know where Donald is. He is in heaven. I am sure at the "marriage supper of the lamb" there are milkshakes. And I am sure Donald is having one.And if he is able to see or think about loved ones he left behind on earth he would say to Karen, "Don't worry about me, sugar, I am doing just fine."
And I am sure he is. After all, the Bible says that God owns the cattle on thousand hills. Where else better for an old cowboy to be?
PEACE, PEACE, WONDERFUL PEACE
Peace, peace, wonderful peace. Coming down from the Father above. Sweep over my spirit forever, I pray, With fathomless billows of love.
It has been quite a couple of months. One we knew was coming, but, nevertheless, still very draining. In Karen's family there have been 3 deaths since the end of June. Most recently was Karen's other grandfather Frank-- whom we call "PaPaw".
Frank, as well as Karen's other grandfather, Donald (whom I wrote about in Milkshakes, Hearing Loss, and Cows), were both diagnosed with cancer within a few weeks of each other back at the end of 2005. And both well into their 80's. I entitled this piece as I did because of what I observed over the last few months of Frank's life. Since we moved back to the area in April, we have had many opportunities to go over. It was an amazing experience to visit Frank and Bonnie (Nanny).
Because of his cancer, Frank spent much of the past few months asleep. He would wake up for a moment, then go back to sleep. But he always maintained such a sweet spirit. Once when we were visiting he woke up as Karen spoke to him. They carried on a conversation for a couple of minutes. Then he dozed back off. Then, about an hour later, he woke up again and asked, "Where's Tim?", referring to me of course. I acknowledged him, he said a word or two to me, then back to sleep. As we were getting ready to leave, he awoke and said "bye".
I observed him being awakened in order to eat, visit, etc. He always displayed a great attitude. Very jovial. Very easy-going. Retaining a quiet dignity even in the face of the indignities one might associate with a body failing under the strain of cancer. I would also observe Nanny taking care of him. Always very tender. Always soft-spoken. And I would observe the family. This was a family already dealing with the untimely (humanly speaking) death of a daughter, sister, mother, aunt at the all-too-young age of 47. In fact, father and daughter went to be with Jesus almost exactly 2 months apart. But the family never "blinked". Frank liked coconut cakes and pies, so we took one over to him on one of visits. And we all had a great laugh at the memories of coconut cakes and pies past. And so it went.
All my observation left me with one unmistakable conclusion. This was a man, and a family, at peace with the decisions of Almighty God. This was a man, and a family, with a keen awareness that death is not "goodbye". It is merely, "Till we meet again".
Now, don't get me wrong. We are saddened by the loss of his presence with us. But we are at peace with his absence from us. Why? Well maybe the words of Jesus from John 14:23-27 can shed a little light on it. If anyone loves Me, he will obey My teaching. My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make Our home with him ... All this I have spoken while still with you ... Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you ... Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
Frank loved God. He listened to, and obeyed, the words of Jesus. He allowed Jesus to make His home in Frank's life. And now jesus has returned the favor. So why should "our hearts be troubled"? I started this blog with the chorus to the Warren Cornell / George Cooper hymn, Wonderful Peace. Let me close it by printing it in its enirety,
Far away in the depths of my spirit tonight
Rolls a melody sweeter than psalm;
In celestial strains it unceasingly falls
O’er my soul like an infinite calm.
Peace, peace, wonderful peace,
Coming down from the Father above!
Sweep over my spirit forever, I pray
In fathomless billows of love!
What a treasure I have in this wonderful peace,
Buried deep in the heart of my soul,
So secure that no power can mine it away,
While the years of eternity roll!
I am resting tonight in this wonderful peace,
Resting sweetly in Jesus’ control;
For I’m kept from all danger by night and by day,
And His glory is flooding my soul!
And I think when I rise to that city of peace,
Where the Anchor of peace I shall see,
That one strain of the song which the ransomed will sing
In that heavenly kingdom will be:
Ah, soul! are you here without comfort and rest,
Marching down the rough pathway of time?
Make Jesus your Friend ere the shadows grow dark;
O accept of this peace so sublime!
To learn more about this peace, I invite you to check out Free Stuff.
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