Bittersweet Farm
Here are a couple versions of the same basic story… Hope you enjoy them and they inspire you to do something somebody will remember for over 50 years.
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The last morning of January lay a cold, beautiful, white blanket across our world. During the daytime the temperatures rose, melting the snow on the roads and walks and leaving the branches and grass dressed in white. January had been mild—one continuous January thaw—so the snow was a welcome change that did no harm.
We are longing to feel the warm sunshine on our heads, but we are Michigan people—people of the north-and we are deep in the heart of winter, so while we wait we are content with a book and a cup of coffee by the fire looking out on the snow-covered world.
We add a log to the fire. We tend to the birds. We walk in the snow. We devote the time that we would be mowing the grass and tending to the yard in warmer times to a good book or a creative project.
One of the secrets of happiness is to learn quiet contentment with what God has provided for this moment. Spring will come in it’s time as spring always does. God is good and all that he does is good. Now it’s winter—it’s God’s good winter.
Ken Pierpont
Granville Cottage
Riverview, Michigan
January 31, 2017
Every day you are making memories. Often you can control if they are good memories or bad memories. I like to live in such a way that, as often as possible I am creating good memories. I’ve included a cluster of memories on this little story podcast.
(The Word of Life Bookstore where I “met” Vance Havner for the first time).
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In New York there is a neighborhood called Harlem. In Harlem is a section called Mousetown that was named by Reader’s Digest one of the toughest neighborhoods in the United States at one time. A young man lived in the neighborhood who was on a spiritual quest. Here is how he put it: “I was on a quest to find a church—a church with a basketball team. I found such a church in Broadway Presbyterian Church and at the same time I discovered an axiom in life: every silver lining has a cloud. The church required attendance at Sunday School three out of four Sundays for all who played on the team.”
It was in Sunday School that the young man came under the influence of a man whose name was John Mygat. John was unusual. He taught an interesting Sunday School lesson every week and he took a personal interest in his students—even visiting them in the neighborhoods where they lived.
The young man broke his glasses and had not gotten around to replacing them. One Sunday John came up to him and said: “I was saving some money for a suit, but I don’t need a suit. I would like you to have this money to buy some new glasses.”
He did not need the money and turned it down but he remembered John’s kindness. Under the influence of John Mygat, the young man came to Christ and he would eventually leave Harlem for a ministry that would influence people around the world. He has had a profound influence on my own preaching.
His name was Haddon Robinson and he went on to be come a pastor and seminary professor and eventually authored a textbook on preaching used by over 300 seminaries training thousands of preachers.
When John Mygat died Haddon Robinson preached his funeral. He chose the text: “There was a man sent from God whose name was John.”
Only God knows the ongoing influence of a teacher who works to be interesting and who sincerely cares for his students.
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