June 1996
Dad is a quiet man, always working with his hands. Each spring he gets the old plow out of the shed and tills up a small garden spot in back of the house. Once in a wihle he'd stop and pick up a handful of the rich, black dirt and crumble it between his fingers. With a smile on his sun-tanned face, he returned to the plow. He made every row as straight as could be, and planted the seeds with care. Then he waited for the sun to warm the earth and the rain to water it; and soon green sprigs shot forth from the soil.
The day came when dad called me out to the edge of the gardne. In his hand were two hoes and he gave one to me saying, "Tom, it's time to chop the weeds." He explained which were the plants and which were the weeds. I set to work, but he seemed always to beat me to the end of the row. Agter a while we sat down to rest under the big maple and drink the lemonade mom brought us. In a few moments dad said something that stuck with me through the years. "Life is very much like a garden, son. The soil of your heart often has to be broken up and the things that would hinder the growth of your garden removed. The best thing is to begin early in life to plant seeds of goodness, kindness, hope, trust and courage, and tend them with love and faith. Always walk in the path of truth and your rows will be straight. Once you swerve from the path by lying, it's hard to get back on it; but easier and easier to lie. A man who keeps his rows straight and weeded will have a beautiful garden." He nodded and said, "Yes, sir, you must keep those hateful weeds chopped out! The best way to do that is to read your Bible and pray daily, and with the Lord's help you will keep the weeds down that Satan sends to kill your witness." He picked up his hoe and went back to work.
January 22, 1991
A raging river against the rocks is dashing
As it winds through the canyon at full speed,
Sweeping away trees to send them crashing
"It;s out of control!" comes the warning. "Take heed!"
Above the wild water in a strong oak is a nest
Fashioned by a mother bird with such love and care,
In the sheltering branches her little ones find rest
While the river rages she is at peace there.
We too can be surrounded by the greates peace
Though the winds of war and change never cease
For there is rest to be found in the strong arms
of Jesus.