It's almost suppertime, and the sun is yet high in the sky. I'm back inside now after an afternoon in the birdsonged air and the life-giving sunshine. My mind and heart feel as clean as a stone.Something interesting happened today.
Some of you may remember Paul ("Mr. Paul," as we call him). He's the sixty-somethingish deacon who walks with a cane. He had a brain aneurism some years ago, and it affected his speech and his motor skills. He's still a very vital member of our congregation, but has had multiple health issues in the past couple of years. Mr. Paul is childlike and Christlike in a very tender combination.
Just before the start of worship this morning, Mr. Paul stood at the front of the auditorium. John (our pastor) said, "Paul wants to speak to us before we get started."
Mr. Paul spoke in his hesitant, halting, self-deprecating way. In essence, he mentioned that he has been feeling poorly of late, particularly at this past Wednesday night bible study. He said that he feels that he may die soon. He assured us that he is not afraid to die, because he has a home with the Lord. "But," he explained, "I don't like to leave y'all." He talked about the many blessings God has given him, and he spoke of his love for the Savior. He went on to say, "I might not get another chance, but I wanted to tell all of y'all that I love you. Y'all see me goin' up and down this aisle, and you hear me say all kinds of jokings and such, but I love you all. I need for y'all to know that. I love you all." As he went to sit in his pew, several of us said, "We love you, too."
What I appreciated about this little incident is that it is extremely biblical. The New Testament model is not a heavily-organized "service" as we have now. The church in the days of the apostles met in homes, and we can infer from the Scriptures that there was active participation by the members of the congregation, utilizing their gifts, offering a word of encouragement, or a psalm, or a greeting, etc. What Mr. Paul did this morning was in keeping with what we read of in the book of Acts. It served to edify his brothers and sisters in Christ; it served to draw attention and glory to God's name; it served to stir up a feeling of genuine love and affection among us all. It was quiet and simple and brief. It was magnificent.
When we arrived back home, we scrounged up a little dinner (beef baloney sandwich with Duke's Mayonnaise, along with chips for me; mini cheese pizza for MeeMaw) and then went to the back deck. It was a bit chilly at first because of the breeze, but the sun soon warmed us. In between chapters, I even sneaked a nap for about five minutes.
When we came inside, MeeMaw piddled with framing a print, and I went up into the woodlot. I sat on a log and watched a plump little rabbit scurrying around (he is now named Hazel II, since the first Hazel disappeared last year, probably at the talons of one of the enormous red-tailed hawks who frequent Possum Cough). I saw and heard many, many birds, including quail and bobwhite. I also saw the first robin of the year.
The woodlot is still winterish looking, but the birds and small creatures are hurrying it along towards the burst of life that accompanies spring. And it is Spring, isn't it? It seems to have come early this year, and I hope the blooming and growing things are safe. We've had a killing frost in early May for the past two years. That and the two years of drought have put a damper on the local flora. Perhaps this year, everything will thrive.Speaking of thriving, we're ready to thrive on some vegetables. Our seed order finally arrived from Heirloom Acres Seeds, a Christian-owned company out of Missouri. With the economic mess, more people are planning a garden this year than at any time in the past generation. The seed companies are way behind in their orders, and I'm glad we ordered back when we did. They weren't out of stock on anything we requested.
After receiving the seeds on Friday night, we used yesterday morning to go get some other things. We went down into town to try and find some lumber for our raised beds, but there was none to be found in our town. We did, however, run into a couple of geese who were standing on the street corner and gossipping about someone.
We headed on down to Johnson City so that MeeMaw could get some new scrubs for work. Then we stopped by the used bookstore there and browsed for a short while. And I mean VERY short for us - we're so well-stocked with books, we really didn't have much that we were looking for. MeeMaw browsed through some cookbooks, and I was searching for an old Strong's Concordance (before they started leaving out some of the words) or a copy of Josephus' Antiquities. No dice.We headed back towards home by way of K-Port. We ended up at Home Depot (Joshi-O, orange IS your color) and bought a couple of 2X10X12s. We had decided that we'd build just one raised bed initially and then go from there. So we got our lumber and came on back home.
I broke out the circular saw and cut the boards to size, then screwed them together (which is not quite the same as screwing them up, but give me time; I'll do that, too). Got the bed built and placed in a primo place in the sun near the fenceline.
I'm planning to stop by Ralph's house (friend from church) tomorrow night and pick up my first truckload of free fill dirt. I'll dump it in the raised bed, add some sand and some vermiculite and some Domino & Shorty brand compost, and it should make some good friable loam. MeeMaw is going to start our seeds in some trays so they'll be ready to transplant to the beds by the time the weather makes its final turn into the warm season.
After I finished the carpentering, I drove Purps the Pickup down to the end of the driveway and began harvesting our current crop of fallen limbs. Within fifteen minutes, the entire truck bed was piled high. Possum Cough is renowned as being the most productive rock and limb farm in the county.
Once the harvest was complete, I backed all the way down to the firepit and unloaded. I started a fire and let the fun begin while MeeMaw provided supervision. By eventide, the entire truckload of wood had been reduced to a few bucketfuls of ashes. Those ashes will go to the compost pile, too.
I had intended to write more, but the time has slipped away. Perhaps I'll write a bit more before bedtime. If not, it'll keep until next time.Rest well, loved ones.
