Sunday, November 19, 2006
As I was driving the other day, I took some time to look at the trees with little or no leaves left on them and the grass turning brown and thought about the changing season. I wondered what the point of it was. Why do we have this cycle of seasons? As I thought about it I also thought about the cycle of a single day. As the sun goes down here in Wisconsin, it is rising on the other side of the world and when the day comes to an end there it will start new here. I just found it amazing that in this world God created, there is always a new day. As dark as the night will get, a new day will begin at dawn. It is the same with the seasons. Things may be looking barren now, but we know that in the spring there will be a new season where things will get warmer and buds will pop from the trees, flowers will blossom and new life from an old plant will begin. In thinking of all of this, I also thought about the story of the sacrifice of Jesus and realized that it is the same story. 1 John 1:15 tells us that "God is light; in him there is no darkness at all." Jesus is our new day. And in Ephisians 2:1 we are told that "As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins..." and then in 2:4-5 "But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions--it is by grace you have been saved." Jesus is also our new season. How important is it to God that we hear the story of what His Son has done for us? Obviously so important that he used the world we live in to tell us that story every day of our lives. Every day you wake up, you wake up to the story of Jesus. No matter what happened yesterday, a new day is available today. No matter how barren your life has been, there is a new season available. Light in the darkness, life out of death. Take a minute and step outside and watch God speak to you, "This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him." Luke 9:35
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Today my son and I mowed the back field at our church for probably the last time of this season. As we mowed, I remembered back to when I first started cutting the grass at Oakhaven Church some years ago. I started out cutting the front yard and I remember never being able to cut it without my son insisting on coming with me. He would sit on my lap while I cut and loved the part when we would go down the hills. The older (and bigger) my son got, the more difficult it was to have him sit on my lap while I mowed, but he rufused to let me go alone. All the while I mowed, I would dream of the day that he would be able to cut the grass along side of me. A couple of years ago, I talked with the person who organized the mowing crew and we determined that my son was finally ready to handle a mower of his own. That year, I switched to cutting the back field around the trees on one mower with my son cutting the field on the other. The funny thing is that most times I have to continually bug my son to get him to cut the grass at home, but if I mention cutting the grass at church, he's in the van before I am. My son likes to call it "Pa time". Just me and my boy. We turn the radio off in the van and talk all the way to church. When we get there we fire up our mowers and get to work. We aren't able to talk for the next hour and a half but we give each other a nod or wave as we pass each other, just a couple of men and their machines. We are only able to talk to each other for about a half an hour in that two hours, but my son considers it all quality time, and so do I. As I rode my tractor today and watched him drive his, I pondered all these things. I used to dream of having my son cut the grass along side of me. Now I watch him and dream of him cutting the same field along side of his own son. I wonder if he dreams of it too. At the end of the day, there is so much more than just a couple of mowers parked in that little building in front of the church.