Ken

It was gray today and it started with a nice cystoscopy (look that up. I’m not about to try to describe it). This all went down before breakfast, before coffee—now that is some good, clean, fun. The lady preparing me for this happy little experience asked me a series of questions and made little notes on a clipboard.

When she says: “How much do you weigh?” I quip; “That’s personal.”

She says; “Oh, it’s about to get REAL personal here in a minute.”

She and the doctor were efficient, professional and quick—so all that was good, plus when the good doctor finished probing around and mumbling under his breath he pronounced me healthy and said we don’t have to see each other for six months. I was happy, not that I don’t enjoy our little meetings. With the cystoscopy behind me I fairly skipped out to the car to commence my day and find a good, stout cup of coffee.

I put in a good solid day at Bethel and noticed while I was enjoying dinner with Hope that the sun had come out and the grass out on Bittersweet could be cut tonight. It’s been a wet spring and the grass is growing lush and long. Hope and I cut the lawn. Lois planted some bulbs given to us by folk from Bethel while I helped by watching from the porch. (Hey, I had a rough day). The lawn was restored to its parklike beauty. There is satisfaction in that.

It’s nice to think that I have a full day of work ahead of me tomorrow, a nice little solitary drive tomorrow evening, and a wedding rehearsal with some old friends, and no invasive procedures that are too embarrassing to describe.

Bittersweet Farm
May 29, 2019

I wrote this just before bed sometime last week: After dinner I spent some time in my wooden rocker on the evening porch right under the hummingbird feeder. I came in at dusk when the sky was blushing pink to write a little before sleep overtakes me. I rose early this morning and I’m a good kind of tired. I think I will sleep with the window open to the night air.

My swanky weather app tells me that the overnight low will be around 65 and we will likely awaken to the rumble of thunder in the morning. Lois has been away for most of a week. She has returned home so I will have company to talk and to pray and to feel a welcome presence in the bed beside me while I sleep.

Hope came home joyful tonight with news of an answer to a need she never really prayed for but only thought about. Her eyes were bright as she told the story and there was a little catch in her voice. We talked at dinner about how our Heavenly Father knows what we need before we even ask him. (Matthew 7:7-11).

“God remind us to turn our worries into prayers. You’re a good, good Father. That’s who you are.”

Sunday morning we had a visiter at Bethel from Virginia. He was a truck driver staying in a local hotel, looking for a church to attend. He told me his story. He was born in Northern Iraq, and used to be Muslim. One day, on a spiritual search, he heard in a Christian Church that God is loving like a good father. He said; “I am a father. My heart is full of love for my children. When I heard of the love of God I became a Christian.”

I told his story at Bethel Sunday morning and the people celebrated with him.

It’s true. He is a good Father, a good, good Father.

Bittersweet Farm
May 27, 2019