Bittersweet Farm
Recognition
Today is the Boston Marathon. Everyone who finishes will receive recognition for life as a finisher of the prestigious race.
Have you ever met anyone who likes to be known as someone who does not want recognition? I don’t think I have ever met anyone who really doesn’t want to receive recognition. Who doesn’t love to be recognized for an achievement? Who doesn’t want to be loved, accepted, and noticed?
At a park in Fenton Friday night we noticed this graffiti on the wall. Good question, don’t you think?
We (the Pierpont Family) are about to embark on an incredible, month-long missionary adventure. Keep your eye on this site for details (Lois will be taking pictures, too).
I take this lovely young lady with me almost whever I go and she takes pictures for me. Now you now why I smile alot… Cute, isn’t she?
Plans now will take us through the American Southwest and then on to Monterrey and Guadalajara, Mexico. We will be on the first of the “Great Expeditions”, with students from the Advanced Training Institute.
READING: I am reading a powerful book by C. J. Mahaney… The Cross-Centered Life. To take the message of the Cross to the people of another nation… what an exciting task.
“It is in the world cause that we connect our fragile, momentary, local efforts with his invincible, eternal, global purposes…” -John Piper
Here is a link to a beautiful missionary story called The Price of A Coconut This is a beautiful story for children of all ages.
Every year I write each of my children a birthday letter and I give it to them at a special birthday breakfast. God has been kind to me to allow this tradition to continue for years. This morning Holly is sitting across the table at Panera reading this year’s letter.
I looked up her letter from 2004. Here is a little part you can read:
“Dear Holly; …Yesterday a young man was describing what it was like to step off the plane in the south where spring arrived a few weeks ago. There were huge azalea bushes, dogwoods, magnolias and other flowering trees and bushes. The air was warm. The sun was bright. The grass was lush and green. I want you to know that whenever you walk into my life, I feel like I have stepped into springtime…”
I am sure you can see a picture of my lovely daughter preparing for her big day if you check on Lois’ picture site.
You might want to take a look at Heidi’s tribute to her sister, too.
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“I remember reading once of a spiritual seeker who interrupted a busy life to spend a few days in a monastery. ‘I hope your stay is a blessed one,’ said the monk who showed the visitor to his cell. ‘If you need anything, let us know, and we’ll teach you how to live without it.’ ”
-Philip Yancy, Christianity Today, March 2006 p. 112
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When I was a boy the death sentence was to have to go to bed without a “treat.” To call what we ate before we went to bed at night a “treat” is a bit of a misnomer, because it was usually a full meal of left-overs. On Sunday night it was really our evening meal eaten after church. Sunday diner was usually late because by the time we arrived home after talking with all the people we would eat late and then the evening service was upon us immediately after our naps. Buy the time we arrived home on Sunday evening we were ready to eat. I mean we were really ready to eat.
When I was hungry it was so hard for me not to misbehave. I’m still that way. You want to feed me or get out of the way. On the way home from church on Sunday nights I was always dangerously hungry. My parents tried all kinds of things to get me to behave, stopping just short of electric-shock therapy and capitol punishment. The last-resort discipline, especially on Sunday evenings was to have to go to bed without a treat.
One Sunday night in the car on the way home I pushed my parents just a bit too far and my Dad pronounced judgment on me. “Kenny, that’s it. You will go to bed without a treat tonight. Your mother and I have warned you ever and over again.”
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