Archives for December 2020

Christmas in A World of Hurt
Bethel Church–Jackson, Michigan
Ken Pierpont-Lead Pastor
December 13, 2020 AM

Christmas in A World of Hurt
Bethel Church–Jackson, Michigan
Ken Pierpont-Lead Pastor
December 13, 2020 AM

Christmas in a World of Hurt

Christmas 1993 we lived on Rutledge Road in Knox County, Ohio. One cold night a couple weeks before Christmas in the blessed days when our whole family lived under one roof, the boys and I hoisted a star of lights up into the gable end of the barn. All the girls were out doing some Christmas shopping. Our star could be seen from out on the highway and all across our valley. I can say with confidence it still shines in the hearts of each of our children. As long as I live the warm memory of it will shine in my heart.

We lived in a quiet valley, the only house on the dead-end road, except the people who rented the little trailer on the top of the hill. His name was Andy. He had a wife and they had two children, Lorali and Andy Jr. Our kids showed Lorali and Andy the star. They asked their dad to hang one. He climbed up the TV tower and wound a string of lights up there. Lorali and Andy Jr. were happy that night, but it would be their last Christmas in the valley.

On Christmas night there was a knock at the door. It startled all of us. We had not seen anyone drive up. The mom and kids were standing there huddled together in the cold when we opened the door. They had been crying. Andy had been drinking and it wasn’t safe in the trailer up on the hill. They needed shelter until her mother could come to get them from Coshocton. In an hour or so they drove off into the night and we never saw them again.

The Family In the Trailer on the Hill.

The next Christmas we made big plans. Food. Family from Michigan. Gifts for everyone. Special decorations. A huge fragrant spruce from the farm out on Pigeon Roost Road. Ginger, our golden retriever had a bow. We had a little Charlie Brown tree we harvested ourselves off a steep hillside over the railroad grade. It was bedecked with white lights to welcome our guests.

That morning the phone rang. The news was not good. Snow was coming. We were excited thinking how festive and beautiful it would be but Lois’s mother was afraid to drive in the snow. The family would not be coming. There would be no guests that year. Lois was devastated and her sadness affected all of us.

Andy lived alone in the trailer up on the hill that year. I wondered if Andy was home. We had more food than we could eat in the week. I walked up and knocked on his door. He opened the door and the house behind him was dark. “Do you have guests?”

“No,” he said, with sadness in his voice.

“Have you had diner?”

“No.”

“I would appreciate it if you would do us a favor. We were planning on guests and they could not come because of the snow. We have a lot of food and we were looking forward to a party. Would you mind coming down for Christmas diner? We would love to have you.”

“Sure. He said. Let me get my coat.

We had a nice, quiet Christmas dinner and shared all our favorite dishes with Andy. Andy was really not open to the gospel, but I hope something we did or said that night lodged in his heart. I hope he knew we cared about him and about his family. I hope he saw something of the love of God in us. I hope there were others who shared the truth with Andy and that maybe at a different time he was more open.

Things did not go well for him after that. Things did not go well for his little family. Sometime that year Andy moved away. He didn’t need a house anymore. He didn’t have a family anymore. Without saying anything about it he was just gone. He even left the family dog behind without saying anything about it, a mutt was called Freddie. A few weeks later we discovered that Freddie was going to have pups. We had never paid enough attention to notice that Freddie was a girl dog.

I wrote to Andy Jr. on Facebook about five years ago. He said that his mother had died. His dad was living in the city. He had not talked to his sister in twelve years. He said, “The whole family just split up.”

Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. It really is, but only for those who really know why and we live is a world of hurt everywhere all the time, even at Christmas time. So I know it can be hard. I know you have your disappointments. I know you have your difficulties. This has been a hard year, but living in a world of hurt means we are surrounded by opportunities to show the love of Christ.

Bittersweet Farm
December 15, 2020

So Lois left early and worked all day. By the time she got home it was long after dark. I was at work at my desk and hollered a hello to her. She returned a joyful greeting. I heard her puttering around downstairs. She was whistling Christmas songs.
I kept working on my message… for a couple hours. Finally she came upstairs and said, “Hey, there is some supper on the counter for you.”

I went down to get it. When I reached the bottom of the stairs I noticed that she had strung the lights on the little tree in the big window. She had done the dishes. She had worked on cleaning the kitchen and dining room, put away her candles and candle equipment, organized her vintage stuff, and made the house inviting and warm in the soft light.
Upstairs she put away some laundry and chatted happily with her sister on the phone a bit. I came up after eating and she gave me a little running commentary on her day, put new bedding on the bed, put on her gown, got into bed, pulled the covers up under her chin, and said, “I’m tired. Good-night.”

“Good-night, Lois. Sleep well. You deserve it.”

It’s very good to have someone to share life with.

Last summer I made a promise to myself and I made another to one of my six-year-old grandson, Koen.

I am creating a writing place in the upper loft of our century-old carriage house a few steps away from the house on Bittersweet Farm. I promised myself that by my birthday in November I would have my writing loft enclosed and insulated. I promised my grandson that we would sleep out there together.

My friend Neil Veydt delivered the door in his shiny Chevy Silverado pick-up truck. By my birthday the walls were insulated. Our son Kyle come out to build the partition dividing the barn loft in half and he installed a nice exterior-grade door in the wall. Dale, our son-in-law was there that day to help.

My friend Ed Pilarz upgraded the electrical service to accommodate a good heater or air conditioner unit, depending on the season. My dear friend Dennis Rosales drove out and braved the height and pitch of the roof and the cold and repaired a leak in the metal roof. One sunny autumn Saturday the men of Brigham Hardware in Concord cut me a pane of glass to replace a the one that was broken. I disassembled the window and installed it.

I covered the walls with faux shiplap made from sheets of plywood. Mark and Carol Haavisto gave me a like-new space heater. I found a good piece of carpet for the floor. I had a wooden desk made for the space I moved a favorite old rocker in. The rocker has flat arms perfect for supporting a writing board or a keyboard board. After the first hard frost I moved my front porch rocker to the loft in case a friend comes to talk.

A few years ago my son gave me a nice black light fixture. I took it out of a box in the basement and installed it directly over my writing desk.

I studied farmhouse and craftsman-style trim, made another trip to Home Depot for lumber, and trimmed the window.

A bout of gout in my hand is preventing me from finishing the trim in the floor and ceiling roof and installing beadboard or more shiplap on the ceiling but the gout will pass and I will finish the loft after the first of the year.

Still it is a cozy, useful place and on Thanksgiving weekend I was able to keep my promise. We got a pile of blankets and our pillows and made our places next to each other on the floor of the loft. (Sweet Keira stayed inside where it was cozy, with mom and grandma).

The night was clear and cold and with the heater and the blankets it was perfect for sleeping. When we turned off the lights and made our nests we could see each other’s faces in the light of the moon coming through the window. For an hour we took turns telling stories and then we grew quiet, listening to the sounds of the night in the country.

The old barn creaked in the wind. A plane droned across the night sky. Later we could hear the sound of a train somewhere out in the distance. Where were they going out in this late night darkness?

We lay in the silence listening. I watched little Koen, thick covers pulled up under his little cleft chin, eyes shining in the moonlight. Suddenly the silence was broken. A loud pack of coyotes was howling in the woods to the north. When the loud, erie howling faded, Kohns said, “Can they get us?”

“No way,” I said as if I was a coyote whisperer.

I told him how much I loved him and he told me the same insisting he loved me more than I loved him which is quite impossible. We prayed and soon after that his breathing slowed and he drifted off to sleep and I lay uncomfortably on the hard floor of an old barn loft—a grandpa with a very happy soul filled with a feeling of warm satisfaction, and missing the comfort of my soft bed and the comforts I’m used to and praying my gout would go away and never come back.

Late in the night I had an occasion to remember that another friend had brought me very creative thoughtful gift perfect for a man of my maturity. It contained a handy appliance designed to make it unnecessary for me to climb down the stairs and trudge through the darkness to the house in the middle of the night. In the interest of good taste I will not describe that to you in any detail.

Sometime after midnight rain begin to fall. Even in the wee hours of the morning when you long for the sweetness of sleep, the sound of rain on a metal roof as a calming musical quality to it. I kept a promise to myself I kept another promise to the little fellow sleeping beside me and we had made an unforgettable Bittersweet Farm memory together.

Bittersweet Farm
December 9, 2020