Dave's Deep Thoughts

 

 

Here's Pastor Dave McDowell's weekly devotional that he sends out to members of his church. Dave is my brother and serves as the Music Minister at Stewartstown UMC in PA.

 

Sometimes cliches are so.........well, cliche

We use them so often that we don't even need to finish them....

There's no place like _________

Any friend of yours is a ______ __ _____

Absence makes the heart grow _________

We say them at funerals in our attempt to comfort people

If you need anything at all, just ____ me.

They pop up when we get philosophical about life....

the best things in life are ____

We use them to encourage people

Everyone has their cross to _______

Graduation ceremonies are littered with them.

My all time favorite.....

Every ending is a _________.

As predictable as cliches can be,

much of the time, they can be true,

because they are often based on the reality of life.

The last two weeks,

as my siblings and I prepared for

an estate sale on the family farm,

we were flooded with memories

of our life together.

As we cleared out room after room,

we were reminded of all those circumstances and events

that had shaped our lives,

that molded us into who we are today..........

that made us family.

The cliches were everywhere.

The couch in the living room

spoke of our mother

who while she worked a night shift,

would come home and sleep on the couch,

so that she could look after our aging grandparents during the day

Mom indeed burned the candle at both ends, and in doing so,

taught me the importance of caring for family.

The table in the dining room

reminded me of all the family holiday gatherings

where the table would be filled to overflow,

and our eyes were larger than our stomachs.

The after-the-meal discomfort

reminded me of how much we had been given.

The upstairs bedrooms

in a farmhouse where only the lower level was heated......

in the winter were as cold as a cucumber,

Yet while my brother and I

would battle it out on the electric football field,

wearing our winter coats,

we were as happy as a lark.

Our playtime in those early years,

forged the deep love we have for each other.

The kitchen was the center of the home.....

and how I loved sneaking to the kitchen, where more than once,

I was caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

It reminded me of all the nourishment we received.....

physically, emotionally, & spiritually.

The paddle in the closet

that mom rarely used but when needed, reminded us of.

Those famous words she would utter

when there was no other recourse....

This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you.

My parents were faithful to discipline us,

to teach us about right and wrong,

to teach us about actions and consequences.

I walked outside and looked at the end of the driveway,

where one day I had gotten off the school bus,

THEN remembered that I had driven the car to school that day.

To this day, I continue to forget things,

like where I placed my keys, or my glasses.

I am reminded that I would lose my head if it wasn't attached.

But the bigger lesson I was taught,

was that for those who are patient and who trust

every situation has a way of working itself out.

I looked down at the meadow

and saw the once proud tree that had been reduced to a stub by multiple lightning strikes.

And though it is said that lightning never strikes the same place twice,

the tree tells me otherwise,

and that in life,

anything is possible,

and one is wise to be prepared for that reality.

The sidewalk from the house to garage,

where both mom and dad

would daily pilgrimage to and from work,

to bring home the bacon,

reminded me the extent at which my parents worked

to meet the needs of all 4 children.

I was taught the value of hard work,

work that benefit others.

The barnyard fence,

where as the brother six years older,

I convinced my little brother,

that if he just believed enough,

he could jump off the fence and fly.

To some, this would be flying by the seat of your pants.

For me, I have since learned

that what I say and what I do

influences people,

so I must be wise in both speech and conduct

(and thankful that my brother didn't hurt himself)

Perhaps every ending is a beginning of some kind.

And so, as our preparations for the sale wound down,

my siblings and I journeyed to the center of the farm,

to the grove of pine trees.

The place where family pets were buried,

the place where Christmas trees were cut down

and delivered by Santa's tractor,

the place where one would walk for times of quiet reflection.

In the moments as the four of us looked around

taking in the beauty of the land,

we realized that time flies when you are having fun,

for we all wondered where the years had gone.

Though we were not rich by man's standards,

be it ever so humble, there is no place like home.

None of us would have traded

our childhood for any other.

Because the words farm and extravagance do not exist

well with each other,

we learned that the simplest gifts are indeed the best gifts,

The deer that leaped across the field at just the right moment,

reminded us of that.

Home, health, and love cannot be bought.

As we prayed,

we gave the farm back to God

for we were entrusted with its care for only a while.

We realized that this ending is really a beginning,

that God is always doing a new thing.

And we have every reason

to be thankful for the past, the present,

and the days to come.

 

Thanks to God,

and to Norman and Janelle McDowell.

We are who we are because of you.

 

May you find thanks in all the cliches of your life.

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

always giving thanks for all things,

in the name of our Lord, Jesus Christ

to God, even the Father.

1 Thes 5:20

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