Bittersweet Farm
Series: Between the Fires
Sermon: Starting a Good Fire (Be Genuinely Saved)
John 3:1-21
July 11, 2021 AM
Bethel Church | Jackson, Michigan
Ken Pierpont | Lead Pastor
Series: Between the Fires
Sermon: Starting a Good Fire (Be Genuinely Saved)
John 3:1-21
July 11, 2021 AM
Bethel Church | Jackson, Michigan
Ken Pierpont | Lead Pastor
Lois and I flew to the beautiful north coast of Oregon for a vacation. We are sleeping late and napping and enjoying long conversations with people we love and we are telling stories and we are listening to our grandchildren tell stories. We are taking drives along the ocean. We are exploring shops and eating regional food. We are celebrating our freedoms in America and praying for our nation to turn back to the God who has so blessed her.
Here is a little story from our time here. There will be more.
When Little Things Keep You Awake at Night
I was crying in my bed one night as a young boy. Mom called from the base of the steps.
“Why are you crying, Kenny?”
“I lost my baseball.”
Dad and I would go out most nights and play catch in the back yard of your little parsonage home in the tiny village of Logansville, Ohio.
“I lost my baseball.”
I now know that it was the intimacy and humanity of standing on a summer evening under the shelter of shady maple in the cool of the day with my dad that my soul craved with a craving I would not understand for many years.
That ball was important to me. I only had one. Without the ball there would be no playing catch in the evening. My little heart would miss that ritual connection with the man who meant most to me in the world.
I could never say that. I could only feel a great grief at the loss of the ball.
We lived in a tiny village across the street from the block that was the very center of the town and it was at the time occupied by a junk yard. It was filled with old cars. My uncle Jim had come over. He hit the ball out of the yard. It went under the cars somewhere. He jumped the fence and looked for it. They called us in to eat. It grew dark. I was sent to bed.
“Come down here, Kenny.” Mom softly said.
We sat together at the foot of the stairs.
“I’m sure we can find the ball in the morning.”
“We can’t. We already looked and we couldn’t fin it.”
Mom answered, “The Lord knows where it is. Let’s ask Him. Let’s pray.”
“Can we pray about a baseball? It seems like such a little thing.”
My mom answered me with a truth that has been embedded in my soul for all these years and I have remembered it hundred of times when worry robbed me of sleep.
“Kenny, listen to me. If it is big enough to keep you awake at night it is big enough to pray about.”
We are spending a blessed week of vacation with our daughter and her little family in her home on the beautiful west coast of Oregon. They live near the little coastal village of Gearhart. The nearest city of any size is Astoria, which sits on a peninsula of land that juts out into the mouth of the mighty Columbia River and Young’s Bay. Young’s bay is formed from the confluence of Young’s River and the Lewis and Clark.
To get to town you have to travel a long causeway over Young’s Bay. Ahead to the north and west is the Astoria bridge and causeway where iconic highway 101 runs from Astoria into Washington State and on up the Pacific coast. To the north and east the town of Astoria is picturesque. Its homes are built steep hills overlooking the water.
It is a place rich in history and natural beauty in every direction. This is where two of our grandchildren are growing up. A little boy that looks like his daddy and a little girl who is the exact image of her mother at that age. They live in a nice home in a beautiful place and they have all they need. They are cherished and they have a good life. They are deeply loved and protected and they live in one of the most beautiful regions on earth. They don’t have any way of knowing that they have been sheltered from many hardships, but when I think of them and watch them play, when I see little Bella Allene out on the swing, the absolute apple of her daddy’s eye, when I see wee Aiden Redemption taking batting practice with his daddy or circle the cul-de-sac on his bike, my heart aches a little.
They don’t yet know how dark and difficult the world can be, even for privileged children who live in the one of the most beautiful regions of the greatest nation on earth. They are in for some challenges there will be dark turns in the road ahead. They will not escape this life without hardship and injury. They will have many good people in their lives who sincerely care for them, but there are evil, selfish, misguided, godless people in this world and they will have to encounter them. They will grow up in a nation that is turning away from God and from his law. There is no doubt that they will have times when their burdens will keep them awake at night.
So out by the fire I tell Aiden the story of my lost baseball and my mother’s counsel to me in the night when my heart was burdened. “If is is big enough to keep you awake at night, it is big enough to pray about.” Later, when we put him to bed I review the story. He remembers all the concrete parts of the story, all the moving parts, but I need to remind him of the abstract moral of the story, the timeless truth that will go with him when his mommy isn’t in the next room fixing him a fragrant meal and his Dad isn’t there to listen to his stories.
“If it is big enough to keep you awake at night, it is big enough to pray about.”
Friday we will fly back to Michigan, and they will grow up fast changing every day, learning new things, having new experiences, meeting new people, making their way in life, facing challenges and hardships. At night when we lie down in the upstairs of our farmhouse our hearts will be burdened for them. Sometimes we will smile, sometimes we will cry, but we will always pray. We will always pray.
Ken Pierpont
The Salty Cove | Seaside/Gearhart, Oregon
“The great design . . . of a Christian preacher [is] to restore the throne and dominion of God in the souls of men.” The keynote in the mouth of every prophet-preacher, whether in Isaiah’s day or Jesus’s day or our day, is “Your God reigns!” God is the king of the universe. He has absolute Creator rights over this world and everyone in it. But there is rebellion and mutiny on all sides, and his authority is scorned by millions. So the Lord sends preachers into the world to cry out that God reigns, that he will not suffer his glory to be scorned indefinitely, that he will vindicate his name in great and terrible wrath, but that for now a full and free amnesty is offered to all the rebel subjects who will turn from their rebellion, call on him for mercy, bow before his throne, and swear allegiance and fealty to him forever. The amnesty is signed in the blood of his Son.” Piper, John. The Supremacy of God in Preaching. (p. 29). Baker Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
I always tell young people God did not give us a spirit of adventure just to climb mountains, ride roller-coasters and bungee jump off bridges. He gave us a spirit of adventure to take the gospel to the ends of the earth. Last week I spent the week preaching on an island! How cool is that? For over 50 years I have wanted to visit Camp Patmos on Kelley’s Island in Lake Erie just north of Marblehead, Ohio. Well last week I was an invited guest and the camp speaker. I drove Spurgeon (our trusty ministry GMC SUV) out onto the ferry and we churned out to the Island on a day so windy you could not carry on a conversation. The water were pretty choppy. The huge ferry kept rising and falling in the water and wave would splash over the deck. A gospel adventure!
When I was a boy there were three camps in Ohio that were associated with the fellowship of church we had connections with. Scioto Hills deep in southern Ohio, Skyview in Homes County, and Camp Patmos on Kelley’s Island. I was able to attend Scioto Hills one year. In 2017 I preached for a week at Skyview, now I have been to each of them. It was my privilege to preach to Sr. High campers during their first week of camp.
I was shocked when they showed me to my room. I did not know what to expect. I was not sure how rustic the “camp” experience was going to be. My room must have been the most beautiful room on the Island. The camp occupies a place on a thumb-shaped peninsula and the heart of the camp is an old stone lodge that has been modernized and expanded into a beautiful dining hall with a large veranda facing the lake and modern guest rooms. I was given a room overlooking the lighthouse looking out over Lake Erie to the tower at Put-in-Bay on South Bass Island. From my room I could see over shining water into Canadian waters and Pelee Island.
Dave Sellers directs Camp Patmos his wife Kristi and two of the children, Cardin and Castille are actively involved in the daily operation of the ministry. They and their staff were a great team. The experience was sweet and it looks like Lois and I will be invited to return to speak at a Family Camp there in the future.
The campers were very receptive. Some trusted in Christ for salvation. Others had deep, meaningful gospel conversations. Some of their stories were very hard to hear. Some were promising. There were many believers among the campers and most of them carried their Bibles to chapel and took careful notes. Brandon Bennett lead the worship. He did a great job. The singing is still ringing in my heart.
Snake in the Washer
Late one night while I was soaking at Camp Patmos on Kelley’s Island in Lake Erie, Lois called. She was very, very upset. At first it was difficult to make out what she was saying.
“Calm down. What is wrong.”
“We just can live here anymore. We have to sell this place.”
Me, “Sell Bittersweet Farm. Are you kidding?”
“That basement. I hate it. I went down to do a load of laundry and there was a black snake in the washing machine!”
“No. Are you sure?”
“Ken, I know a snake when I see one.”
“How big was it?” I ask.
She says, “I don’t know maybe a foot long.”
“Did it have stripes?”
“Yes, I think it did. I didn’t stay around to look at it. It was moving around. I’m petrified. Ken, I don’t know what to do. We have to move. I cannot live in a house with snakes.”
Me: “I don’t think that would be a black snake. It would be a garter snake and they really are harmless. They are not poisonous. There are no poisonous snakes in Michigan except on Bois Blank Island in the Straits of Mackinaw.”
“Ken, I don’t care what kind or color it is. I cannot live in a house with snakes.”
Lois’s grandmother were country people from the mountains of Kentucky. I know here grandma Banks killed chickens with her bare hands and I’m sure she would dispatch quickly of a snake if she encountered it in the berry patch.
“Sweetheart, what would your mamaw do if she saw a snake?”
“I’m not my mama and I don’t like snakes and I never will. We have to move. What am I going to do to get that snake out? Why would this happen when you are not home? What am I going to do?”
We thought for a while and remembered our brother-in-law, Jim Evans. Jim is an outdoorsman, a man’s man and an Eagle Scout. He lives 15 minutes away. I called Jim and talked to Lois on the phone until he got there. She left the phone on “speaker” so I could hear the events as they unfolded.
“Is it dead. Did you kill it? I don’t want it to come back in here.”
“It’s dead. It’s not coming back in the house.” Jim assured her.
We thanked Jim. He was glad to help. He was on his way back home at about eleven at night.
I’m home from my speaking on the island and I have had a chance to talk Lois of the ledge a bit. I am not the official laundry man. Lois says she will never enter the basement again so I guess I can turn it into a man-cave now and I will be getting a workout going up and down the stairs washing and drying and avoiding reptiles.
Lois wanted me to call our realtor friends and have them list the house, but I finally have gotten her to agree to call a contractor and build an upstairs laundry room.
I kept telling Lois how harmless a little garter snake is, but nothing I said convinced her. It only agitated her more and made her more determined to sell the farm. I made a note of out harmless a garter snake is on Facebook and our youngest daughter, Hope posted: “Yeah well the last time a woman thought a snake was harmless it didn’t end well for humanity…” That is what we get for giving her sound theological training, I suppose.
Leo Cumins has a ready wit and a spiritual perspective on things. He is the long-time former pastor at Bethel and current elder and my friend. He read about out little experience and wrote: “That is the trick to have a house in the country, but not to let the country get into your house.”
It reminded me of the aphorism often quoted to me in my childhood. “We are in the world but not of the world.” The believer should be in the world but the world should not be in the believer… like the boat is in the water, but when the water should not be in the boat. The house should be in the country, but the country should not be in the house—especially in the washing machine.
I’m home and we are searching for a good contractor to build a snake-free, first-floor laundry room.
Bittersweet Farm
June 29, 2021
The sun set with a beautiful afterglow out on Bittersweet tonight. It was my day off. Other than a few phone calls and working on some details for a wedding this weekend, it was a day of puttering around the place, organizing things, laundry, and other projects.
Last night I enjoyed a ride on Brutus, my bike. Hope stopped over. She and Lois and I went to Horton for ice cream and conversation. We returned at dusk and I saw my first fireflies of the year. My mint is coming up under the bluebird house. I consider it a major victory. Lois said, “Mint grows itself.” Lois has flowers and ferns growing all around the outside of the house. She putters and weeds and waters and they flourish. It’s hard to imagine a more wonderful place to be this time of year than right here on Bittersweet Farm.
Saturday we drove to Muskegon to celebrate our little foster grand-daughter’s first birthday. Dale and Hannah gathered family and friends in a neat lodge over on the Big Lake. It was a sweet time.
Camp Ministry
Camps are reopening. I will speak first at Camp Patmos on Kelleys Island in Lake Erie, The Springs, Camp Fairwood, and a couple times at Barakel by September. It would be good to pray for God’s work in camps all over the country every night this summer. Hundreds of campers will hear the Story by the side of a lake, or under the stars, or around the fire, or in the mountains… any maybe their lives will be changed forever.
This might be a good time to get copies of my latest book Between the Fires for young people you love. In the book I share fifty of the most important things I have taught campers over the years of speaking at camps.
Often I prayed for the Lord to give me a clear, simple, powerful, unique way to express truth in a way that would capture the hearts of campers and help them understand the truth of God. I have shared many of those things in this book. You can order a copy here.
Thoughts on Hearing a Plane Pass Over in the Night
What do you think of when you see or hear a plane passing overhead in the night? I always wonder where the people on it are going and why. Where did they come from what is their story? I love my simple, mostly local life, but I do sometimes wish I was taking a train or a boat or a plane somewhere. Lately I’ve been preaching about heaven and thinking about the eons of time we will have to explore the new earth.
With unrestricted time in unhindered travel, and a sinless glorified body, where will I go? What will I do? Will I hike the Appalachian Trail? Will I travel the Blue Ridge? Will I fish mountain streams. Will I fly over the top of the earth? Will I kayak gorges of rushing water? Will I climb in the mountains? Will I sail? Will I have an island paradise of my own complete with palm trees, fresh fruit, white sand and blue water? Will we travel up to the Holy City, the New Jerusalem for times of learning and fellowship and worship with thousands upon thousands of others in the presence of the lamb?
Will we visit by the fire for unbroken hours with people I love with no hurts or misunderstandings? Will we gather and tell stories of missional enterprise? Will we rehearse the victories of the gospel, telling stories of how people came to Christ?
There are other whole hemispheres whole countries, whole continents to explore and to enjoy. What will the earth be like with forests and freshwater, but no sea? How much more will there be to explore?
Will we travel back to the places dear to us when we lived on the old broken earth and revisit fond memories of the past?Will we see what these places are like without any brokenness in them or hate or crime or injustice or prejudice or misunderstanding?
On the 27th of June I will complete my journey of preaching through the Revelation, the last book of the Bible. It’s made me think deeply and sweetly about the ultimate world for those who believe.
I have always heard it referred to as the “eternal state” but that sounds so static. It seems like such an inadequate way to refer to something so wonderful. But there is something more…
Where are those people coming from? Where are they going? Who are they going to see?
Sometimes people travel for business. Sometimes they travel to visit places, but maybe the best travel stories come from people who are traveling to be with other people. The New Heaven, New Earth, and the New Jerusalem will be places of shocking beauty, and wonder, and pleasure, and rest, and security, and enterprise, and learning, and worship, there will be something mush greater than all that. After a lifetime of believing without seeing, a lifetime of loving without seeing, we will run into the arms of Jesus and we will see his face and we will be with him and he will be with us forever.
It breaks my heart to part with a loved one not knowing when I will see them again at the airport, but I love to watch lovers or loved ones reunite. I can’t imagine the moment when our faith becomes sight and we see the face of Jesus for the first time and we part no more forever. That’s what I think about sometimes when I hear the train whistle in the night or when I see the lights of a plane passing overhead. I like it right here in my quiet peaceful loft listening to the sounds of the night, but I am going places someday–places of unimaginable wonder. I am going to be with someone I have loved and worshipped all my life, but never seen.
Bittersweet Farm
June 15, 2021
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