Bittersweet Farm

Bittersweet Farm

Village Parson

“Where We Goin’ Where?”

Filed Under: Village Parson

I love it when God arranges meetings. It happened to me today. I went into a restaurant for lunch. There at a table for six were five people, one of whom is from Bethel. “Hey, why didn’t you invite me to this party?” I say.

“Pull up a chair,” they say.

I eagerly join them. We fall immediately into spirited conversation. They are people who know the Lord and love him. We have that in common.

After just a few minutes it was clear to all of us that God had arranged our meeting. We laughed and we cried. I encouraged them. They encouraged me. There was joy. There was fellowship. God arranges cool things.

I’ll go wherever he sends me. I trust him with my life.

I had my day all planned out. Nothing went as I planned. God had other plans and they were good.

When our youngest was small and she saw us getting ready to go somewhere she would chirp, “Where we goin’ where?”

I just want to live the rest of my life that way.

I look in my Father’s eyes. I can tell he’s getting ready to go somewhere and do something… I just want to say, “Where we going where, today Lord? Wherever you are I want to be there.”

Well, I need to turn in. I need some rest. God has plans for me tomorrow. I’m not sure what they are but I know they are good.

Bittersweet Farm
July 22, 2019

On Eating an Apple

Filed Under: Faith and Family, Village Parson

He worked hard but when he arrived home it would still be a few hours before sunset. He got an apple and his pocket knife and sat on the edge of the porch in the sun. The simple pleasures of the warm sun on his head and the sweet taste of the apple took him back in time 50 years to his boyhood in the little village of Logansville.

In his memory he is eating a small apple, a tart Jonathan. He is wearing his Levis and a pull-over tee-shirt with stripes. A red felt ball cap is sitting back on this head, a shock of white-blond hair jutting out from under the bill of the cap. Birds are singing and school is out for the summer. Bright sun is taking the chill off of the morning.

His dad is the pastor of the little white church on the edge of the village. Their home is the modest parsonage across the road. He always has his chores in the morning, but by late morning or early afternoon on those summer days he rides his bike along country roads around the little village where they live. He picks up empty bottles and cashes them in for a cold orange pop and drinks it on the steps of the Sinclair station. He has a red bike with 24 inch balloon-style tires and coaster brakes. (Think Opie Taylor and you will have the picture clearly in mind).

For a dollar a week he push-mowes the church lawn. Pop is fifteen cents and a candy bar is a nickel. They take a trip every week out River Road to the dump and bring along the BB-gun to take turns “plinking” cans. Dad makes 80.00 a week. Every Friday the boy rides up the hill to the treasurer’s house to get the check and a dozen brown eggs. The church provides the parsonage. There always seems to be enough.

One afternoon his Dad built him a small “tree-fort” up in the branches of a Maple. He spent hours there that summer. They have a garden. They even have a chicken for a while. They have a mutt dog, the boy’s companion.

Funny what you think about when you are sitting in the sun munching an apple on a summer evening. What he didn’t know as a boy was that the feeling of warm sun on his head, the tart sweetness of the apple, the sound of the birds, the quietness and sense of well-being in his heart, the thoughtfulness and the thankfulness behind them… each of these were acts of worship to His God and they would follow him through his life and overtake him time and again when driving down a long country road, or hearing the strains of organ music, or singing an old hymn that reminded him of Prayer Meeting night in the little white church across the road in the village of his boyhood.

Now he is grown and has grandchildren. He is a pastor himself, has been for 40 years. On Sundays he stands in the front row and throws back his head and sings along with the praise team with his whole heart…

“Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life.”

Bittersweet Farm
June 2019

A Passing Courtesy

Filed Under: Village Parson, Virtues and Values

Yesterday we laid to rest one of Bethel’s beloved, long-time members. He was a retired educator, named Dave Collins. It was a beautiful autumn day the the funeral procession took the back way to Spring Arbor for the burial. The long procession passed beneath arches of trees yielding their leaves to a gentle wind. The procession passed the Western High School, the district in which he had spent his career. Along the way people worked in their yards and burned leaves.

For the last ten years I pastored in the Detroit Downriver. People there would never pull their cars over to show honor for the dead. Sometimes cars would even pass the procession. Out in Jackson County yesterday warm civility prevailed. Dozens of people pulled off to wait for the procession to pass. My heart was greatful.

A few miles west of the church out on County Farm Road an older man was mowing his yard astride an old John Deer riding mower. He stopped his mowing and saluted the procession until it passed.

I never want to be the old man continually whining about the way things used to be, but maybe someday, I’ll drive out County Farm road and look up that gentleman and thank him for is courtesy. I’ll bet he has a story to tell and I’d like to hear it.

Ken Pierpont
Bittersweet Farm
Summit Township, Michigan
October 20, 2018

Here is an interesting read from Country Living.

Banana Bread

Filed Under: Fireside Academy, Village Parson, Virtues and Values

Sometimes I just crave banana nut bread. I imagine a fresh slice with light butter next to steaming cup of coffee. I give little hints to the ladies about that from time to time.

“Sure would love some banana nut bread one of these days.” I frequently say to the girls. Lois always says the same thing. “Pick up the ingredients and I will make you some.” And then I get something else on my mind and forget.

One winter morning on the way out the door I said, “Why don’t you ever make banana nut bread?” Lois said, “Because you never remember to bring me the ingredients.”

My thoughts shifted to my work. I had calls to make. I drove across town to the neat little home of a widow in our church and knocked on the door. She was eager to visit. She let me in and said, “Excuse me pastor, I need to get some baking out of the oven.”

“What are you baking?” I asked, but I knew the answer before I asked the question.

“Banana bread.”

“With nuts?”

“Yes, always with nuts.” I smiled. God is good. My mouth watered.

We visited for about a half hour the smell of the bread lingering in the air. I kept wondering how long it would take the bread to cool. Finally I pretended to leave. “Well, I’d better get going,” I said waiting for her to offer me some of the fresh baked bread. She stood and thanked me for my visit. I prayed with her and said goodbye.

I walked dejectedly to the car, started it up and drove slowly away. I watched the door thinking any moment it would fly open and I would be on my way with a loaf of fresh baked banana bread. It never did. Sometimes it is impossible to know why some things happen. I still think about that every once and a while. I suppose even though God loves me he knows it is important to remind me from time to time that the whole world doesn’t revolve around me. All Banana nut bread does not belong to me.

This story “mysteriously” leaked out and other bakers in the church made me banana nut bread to compensate for the cruel disappointment I had suffered. Oh, it was good, even though I had to use questionable methods to get it. Good coffee and warm banana nut bread are strong consolation when you are recovering from bitter disappointment. If you are capable of making good banana nut bread you might want to remember that if you ever see anyone around who looks disconsolate.

Kenneth L. Pierpont
ken@kenpierpont.com
Riverfront Character Inn International Conference Center
Flint, Michigan
July 14, 2003

Get in the Van

Filed Under: Bittersweet Farm, Circuit-Riding, Village Parson

I served my last church for 10 years. When I resigned I did not have a place of full-time ministry. It was a very, very difficult time for our family. You can’t tell by looking but my heart was broken as I preached this message and our family was devastated. This was my very last message to the people I had faithfully loved and led for ten years. I told them a story about about following God even when you are not sure where you are going.

What happened after that was a miracle–a series of miracles. It was an incredible spring and summer–a time I will never forget. God sent me to churches and camps and conferences in Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana, New York, Michigan and Canada… He was so faithful. I preached 117 times, traveled thousands of miles and all our needs were met.

God protected us from determined enemies and protected our daughter and her little ones who were traveling through the darkest, most difficult waters. By the end of the summer I had been called to Bethel Church and in the fall I had finished my preaching on the road. By January we moved into our new home on Bittersweet Farm.

I wrote all about my travels and preaching in what I called The Red Jeep Journeys… You can search for them and read all about it.

Old Correspondence

Filed Under: Faith and Family, Read Aloud Stories, Village Parson

Today searching for an old e-mail to encourage a friend I stumbled on this cozy note from Janny Moore a number of years ago. Janny lives in Canada…

“Dear Pastor Pierpont; The wind howled as it ripped across the frozen prairies on a cold Saskatchewan night. Nestled in drifts of snow in the midst of towering spruce a lone ranch house stood. Within, 3 generations of Moores enjoyed the coziness of being together. After all, it was Christmas. Huddled by the hearth a grandmother sat in the arm chair with grandchildren sprawled about her. In her hands she held one of her favorite Christmas presents, a book.

Reading aloud has been her favorite pastimes and this night was no exception. The book in her hands was none other than Sunset on Summer by our own Pastor Pierpont. One story finished with comments like, “Wow. He’s a good writer,” or “That’s so true.”

Sparkle lit in our Grandmothers eyes as the kids asked her for another… and another.

Thank you for bringing warmth to our hearts, way up in cold, old Saskatchewan through your book and sharing your lives with us. We’ve been blessed, inspired, convicted, encouraged… –Janny Moore”

Thanks, Janny. It was sweet to stumble on this today in the warmth of summer…

Ken Pierpont
Bittersweet Farm
Summit Township, Michigan
July 25, 2018

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