The Place, The End

At 4:00 A.M. on Saturday, March 27th, Aaron closed the carport door for what I am assuming was our final stay at "The Place". It had been a long week. My mother and father were both keepers. Perhaps that was a result of their experience of growing up during the depression. This picture is a sampling of the stuff we had to go through. Every piece had to be handled; every item required a decision. And, while many were void of memories, a lot were saturated with them. Flashes of forgotten experiences came roaring back with the tactile experience of touching and smelling and seeing my parents household goods. Pots, pans, clothes, rings, pictures, aftershave - the list was almost endless and so was the emotional ride attached with them. All in all, it was an exhausting experience. Not only was there the sadness attached to cleaning out their home, there was also the physical exertion of carrying, lugging, moving, burning, stacking, transporting - all sorts of stuff. In the end, I think the decision making process was the hardest. Who gets what and why do they get it. What do we keep, what do we give away, what do we throw away. The truth is, most of the things we wanted most had little intrinsic value. It was a my father's favorite glass, a figurine my mother loved, an old tool often used, an worn out pair of binoculars - those were the priceless goods with which we had to deal.

And, there was the place. Working in the house was like playing old home movies. In the corner of the kitchen I could see my Mom standing and eating out of a bowl, one foot propped on top of the other. My father loved sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette enjoying the cool of the evening. The old barn and shed were work places where we fed chickens and chopped wood and fixed old lawn mowers. The house sits on a hill which slopes down to a pond in the back. It was a place to fish, shoot snakes, and relax. Behind the pond were the woods. A better theme park has never been built. The woods were full of mystery and surprise. You never knew what adventure awaited you when you entered them. It was a great place to play and to allow your imagination to soar. But, the Place could also be lonely. It is remote and quiet. But, for me, that was okay.

The heart of the Place has gone. It lies buried in the cemetery beside Pine Ridge Baptist Church. I could have arranged to have owned the Place. Tried to have kept it in the family. But, without the heart, it was empty. Hold things loosely. Be thankful for the past, relish the memories, trust the Lord for the future. The Place was were I went to visit, to relax, to see family. Home is where I now live and love. The Place will live in my mind in memories - sweet memories of parents and family and friends. Memories of a boy playing army in the woods, of catching fish with grandpa, of feeding chops to chickens and hay to cows. Memories of a mother who loved flowers and a father who loved mowing. Memories of hot summer evenings and cool dips in the creek.

I hope the person who will soon live at the Place will form their own special memories there. I would love to sit with them and tell them the story of the Place. How my father built it, how my mother loved it, how my grandfather worked it, and how my brother and me felt about it. I hope they love it and care for it. But, I would warn them to hold it loosely. To recognize that one day they too will leave the Place for the last time. And, to know that this Place is only a preview of the Place that is to come. No more crying there - that is a permanent address.

Sign of Hope

The Robins have returned to the Gibson City Bible Church field. That is a very good sign. It means that Spring is close behind, Lord willing. Every year we have fairly large flocks of Robins migrating through. They are starting to show up and that is encouraging. I love Spring. Without trying to overly spiritualize it - Spring is connected with the resurrection of Jesus and the resurrection of Jesus changes everything - for the better. Spring is coming! And, the power of the resurrection if felt throughout the world as we anticipate the transformation of the resurrection changing brown to green, cold to warm, dead to live, bud to flower, hope to reality.

"NO!"

Down the road from where my father lived, there is this sign. It is approximately 24 inches square. One word, nothing more. It has been up for a long time. Whenever I am in Louisiana, I take walks down this road and have passed this sign bunches of times for many years. I would assume this is not the whole message, but I could be wrong. Perhaps "No Trespassing" was the original intent, but the sign is on a telephone pole on a public road. Hardly a place to prevent people from being. Maybe it was a protest against something. But the location would guarantee a very limited readership. It could be that the person placed it there in response to a question someone had asked them. Maybe a shy bride was answering a suitor or a kid was being defiant toward his parents. Maybe it is meaningless, but, knowing where it is located - I am guessing it was there for a reason - in light of the expenditure of energy to place it.

No is a powerful word. There is no ambiguity about it. Jesus said, "Let your yes be yes and your no be no". It is a negative, but there are some very positive things about "No". We teach our children to say "No" to drugs. It can be an ominous word: "No turning back" or "No way out". But, it can bring great encouragement: "There will be no more tears, no more sadness, no more sorrow".

I don't know what the "No" sign means out in the woods in central Louisiana. And, I don't think I ever will. The environment is working against it. One day it will fall off of the pole and lay on the side of the road and be reclaimed by the ground on which it lies. It will then be "No" more. How unlike us. A glorious future awaits all those who have cast themselves on the glorious "Yes" of Christ.