June 2019 – Page 3

Most of us are tempted to be judgmental and critical—to examine other people’s sins more than our own. It starts out as a bit of an indulgence—just yielding to a little innocent temptation to drop a word of criticism and cynical barb—a little witty jab into the conversation. It feels good and it draws a laugh from shallow people.

Before long it becomes a way of life, we are characterized by it. By the time a few decades have passed that critical spirit has lined our face and darkened our eyes and people are eager to avoid us.

Do not yield to this sin—yield to the impulse to love and kindness and mercy and when you are old there will be joy in your eyes and people will gather around you for a life-giving word.

It is sunset on the Lord’s Day out on Bittersweet Farm and my heart is peaceful. I taught my Sunday school class this morning, preached, visited shut-ins to sing hymns and share communion this afternoon and taught the teens this evening. Bethel Church just keeps growing every week. It is cool and beautiful out now as the sun slips from sight. I had no time for my usual nap so I should sleep well tonight. I will lie down soon, read some on my Kindle and then drift into slumber with a grateful soul. I’m a simple village parson and more and more that is all I inspire to be, a village parson who tells stories and writes books and loves quiet evenings on the porch and is easy to live with and really cares about his flock.

Stop the Car Before You Get Out

So this really happened. Got home a little after six and the sun was still high in the sky. I got an apple and took a little stroll around Bittersweet Farm. After a bit Lois came out and suggested we take a little drive to see if we can find some orange and vanilla swirl soft-serve ice cream.

We took the long way down country roads lush with growing things. Farmers are getting into their fields around here, getting crops in. It was a beautiful night.

I slowed to round a corner and suddenly Hope began to scream incoherently from the back seat. I couldn’t make out what she was saying at first. I slowed the car.

“You have a worm on your neck! A worm on your neck!”

Lois backed up against her door and began to scream… “Get it off. Get it off. Oh, no. Now it is on your ear.”

At this point she opens the car door…. yes, you read that right. The car is still moving and she opens the car door and starts to step out and then yells, “Stop the car, you’re going to kill me.”

I say; “Do you want me to stop the car first or get the worm off my face?”

I manage to roll down the window and toss the little green caterpillar out while I bring the car to a stop and Lois gets back into the car and closes the door.

No one got hurt. I think the little innocent worm may even have landed on his many feet, but my sides hurt from laughing.

We drive to a couple ice cream places and then we discover that God watches over Lois with a special love because the little place out on the edge of Homer is displaying the flavor of the week on a little sign out front: “Orange” and the good people kindly mix it with vanilla and we are home before dark to Bittersweet Farm… “Where every day is a beautiful day and the little light in the kitchen is always on.”