Bittersweet Farm

A little over five years ago I met Woody Shoemaker. We were both pastors. Most recently he had pastored in the Flint Hills in rural Kansas. I had pastored in the lovely village of Fremont, Michigan. Our families both had relocated to downtown Flint, Michigan to take part in a ministry housed in a sixteen-story hotel. He headed up the college program and I was the director of the building.

While we were working together, Woody would stop by my office. I would brew coffee and we would talk theology, discuss the ministry, and compare notes. We enjoyed rich Christian fellowship. Our boys were buddies. It was a great privilege, but it was an adjustment for both of us. We both loved the outdoors and the hotel was in the heart of the city.

We both found ways to adjust. He would visit his home in Kansas from time-to-time and ride his horses. I would get away to speak at camps and churches around Michigan. When he was gone I would keep an eye open for his charges. When I was gone he covered for me. When one of us would leave we would sincerely wish the other a season of refreshment.

Once when Woody had been away for a few days, his number showed up on my cell phone. When I answered there was noise on the line. It was the wind blowing over the mouthpiece on his phone.

“Ken?”

“Hey Woody, how are you?”

“I couldn’t be better. I’m sitting on a knoll and I can see for miles in every direction. I am on horseback. I have the wind in my face and the sun on my back. I can get a little reception here and I wanted to call and describe what I am doing.”

“Hey, Woody. I couldn’t be happier for you. Everything is under control here. Take your time. We’ll save some dirty jobs for when you get back.”

A few months later, travelling to a speaking engagement in west Michigan I scheduled a day on the Leelanau Peninsula and an afternoon hike out to Pyramid Point. The sky was clear, the lake was blue, and the islands were emerald green in the fresh air of spring. I stood high over the water and drank in the beauty. I called Woody and described the scene before me. He rejoiced with me and assured me that everything was under control.

Woody and his wife Gail and Lois and I would go out to eat from time-to-time. It was always lively, good, Christian fellowship when we were together. If I had known what that last year and a half would bring I would have gone out to eat with them more often.

We went our separate ways, Woody back to Kansas by way of Indianapolis, and Lois and I to a pastorate in Michigan. Gail got sick last year with cancer and just a few months ago went to heaven. She died gracefully, leaving a good testimony behind, a husband who loved her, three sons and three daughters who are walking with the Lord. The first thing I thought when I heard she had gone to be with the Lord was – I wonder how she would describe it if she could call us on the cell phone right now.

If she called I would want a full description and I would tell her that we will all get together one day and continue our long-suspended conversation.

Ken Pierpont
Granville Cottage
Riverview, Michigan
January 27, 2008

Russell Williams told me a sad story one day. Russell has a beautiful Christian family. He has devoted his early retirement to tireless Christian service, living in Christian community and serving others with his many skills. He is a man of ringing Christian character. He is a loving husband and father. His prayers are rich and sincere. His bright eyes are full of life. He is an intelligent man. He has the kind of sense of humor that I love. I’ve seen him laugh until tears come to his eyes. He and his wife have labored tirelessly and lived sacrificially to raise a beautiful Christian family. He is a sincere, principled, Christian man.

He once told me that when he was a young man in the Navy on shore leave he was eager to fellowship with a group of Christians. He was many, many miles from home and family, but his heart longed for Christian fellowship and a place to worship God with others. On Sunday he made his way to a church, but when he arrived an usher met him at the door and he was not allowed to enter the building. He was told that he would have to watch the service through a window, because he was a black man.

I had known and loved Russell for a couple years before he trusted me with this story. My heart grieved to think of my friend, as a young man, un-welcome in a Christian church because of the color of his skin. I wondered if the people of that church knew that Jesus was not a white man. I wondered if the church supported missionaries to Africa. I wondered what they thought when they read passages like Revelation 5:9;

And they sang a new song, saying: “You are worthy to take the scroll, And to open its seals; For You were slain, And have redeemed us to God by Your blood out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation.

Today would be a good day for each of us to get on our knees and repent of the times we have allowed prejudice to dishonor the One who custom-made every man and every woman, whose Son shed his blood on the cross to buy out of the slave-market of sin men and women from every tongue and tribe and people and nation.

P.S. On April 8, 2018 Russell Williams went to be with the Lord.