Tag Archives: sea

Packages (Part 4)

Part 1 

Part 2

Part 3

Like the previous morning, the bright blue expanse of water appeared in the distance, yet this time it seemed nearer. The dawn’s warmth and splendor persisted in an unnatural way as I tried to shepherd my heart.

I was emotionally perplexed. A few years back, I’d learned that suppressing difficult emotions and proceeding as if nothing had occurred—akin to the adage “just rub some dirt on it and keep playing”—was not beneficial. This stoic posture had done nothing for me but deaden my emotions and stifle my tears when I really needed to grieve, such as after the death of my parents. 

This morning the problem was trying to sort through all I was feeling.  I felt accused by Harrison, betrayed by Mike, and grieved about Fred’s cancer diagnosis. Additionally, I was worried about the upcoming meeting with Mike and its potential impact on my job, especially since our savings was not substantial.

As had been the case each morning, as I rested on the packages, I reflected on a section of Scripture. This morning it was Psalm 42. The psalmist wrote that his soul was in despair and disturbed within, or, in another translation, sad and discouraged.  [1]

This captured my emotions: sadness and discouragement.

After a bit of time, I heard, “I’m here.” 

Instinctively, I yelled, “Why? Why Fred? How can his cancer be considered good in any way?” I guess I was also angry.

A silence followed, then a question, “What do you mean by good?”

Caught off guard, I had no answer. 

I had arranged to have lunch with Jill around noon but had some time to spare until then. So, I decided to give Sammy a call.

“Hello,” Sammy answered. 

“Sammy, It’s Bobby. How’s your car running. Any more leaks?”

“Mr. Bobby. I was going to call you today.”

“Please, just call me Bobby.”

“I’ll try, but it’s a hard habit to break. The car’s running smoothly. In fact, Milly made some fried chicken, collards, and macaroni and cheese for you and your wife in appreciation for all your help.”

“She didn’t have to do that,” I replied. “Just being with you helped me more than you know, but certainly I won’t turn down a meal from her. You told me what a great cook she is. Do you want me to come by and get it?”

“Smart man,” Sammy chuckled. “It won’t be ready until around noon. Would you and your wife like to join us for a meal then?”

“That would be great,” I responded. “Jill doesn’t get off for lunch until then. Would it be alright if I came over now, and she could join us at your place later?”

Sammy was thrilled at the idea. I called Jill and gave her the address and she agreed to meet me there.

The prospect of seeing Sammy again brought joy to my heart. En route, I noticed a package beside me addressed to Sammy, Milly and Alton. I wasn’t sure who Alton was, but I heard, “Allow them to serve you and learn from them.” Strange delivery instructions indeed. 

Sammy and Milly resided on a quaint family farm located on the town’s west side, a short drive from Jill’s office. The property boasted a single-story house, a barn, and a pond. As I pulled up, Sammy was waiting by his truck. The sincere smile that spread across his face when he saw me comforted my weary soul.

The smell of country cooking wafting from the house as Sammy showed me around. He nimbly maneuvered on his artificial leg, as he showed me chickens, pigs, goats, a nice sized vegetable garden, and a small grove of peach trees.

“Are the chickens just for eggs?” I asked.

“No, we eat them too,” he smiled, nodding toward the house.

Wandering the farm with Sammy, my thoughts were flooded with childhood memories. Growing up near my grandfather on his small farm, I was whisked back to simpler times, before life’s hardships had dimmed the light of youthful joy.

Jill drove up just as Milly popped her head out of the front door and called us in for lunch.

The meal was exceptional: the chicken was perfectly crunchy, the macaroni delightfully cheesy, and the collards were richly savory. Our feast included buttery cornbread, lemony sweet tea, and homemade peach cobbler for dessert, crafted from their own harvest.

The joy they both exhibited was remarkable, despite facing persecution and discrimination due to their skin color. Being with them filled our hearts with gladness. I wished we could have stayed longer, but knew we had to leave soon.

Standing up, I asked, “Sammy mentioned your large family the other day, does anyone else live with you?”

“Yes,” Milly responded. “Our grandson Alton stays with us. His mother passed away at his birth.”

“We almost lost him too,” Sammy chimed in. “Would you like to meet him?”

“Yes, I would,” I replied.  

“Come on,” Sammy motioned for us to follow him. 

In a room at the end of the hall, a middle-aged man was seated in a rocking chair, gazing through the window at the weeping willow tree beside the pond. Under it, a pig and a goat appeared to be playing chase.

“Hey bud,” Sammy said.  “I want you to meet some new friends of ours.”

Alton turned to us and smiled. During our brief time with him, we saw a man whose entire life was enveloped in love and joy, embodying the essence of childlike faith.

Later, Sammy conveyed that the umbilical cord had restricted oxygen to his brain at birth. He was unable to communicate verbally. However, it was undeniable how deeply he loved his grandparents; and us.

“Alton is a constant source of joy,” Sammy told me as I got in my car. Brushing away a tear, he said, “He embodies love and grace. People often pity us because they think Alton is a burden. It’s been a tough journey. We think about his mother daily. Yet, we believe our loving Father entrusted Alton to us for our good. Our time with Alton has strengthened our faith in Jesus Christ in ways we never thought possible. What we can’t do, God can.

I almost shouted, “Amen!”  Probably should have.

I was strangely peaceful, as I drove to meet Mike. What Sammy said about life with Alton being “good,” brought me back to what He’d asked me that morning. “What do you mean by good?”

I now had at least a partial answer. 

Entering Mike’s office, I noticed a document at the corner of his desk that read, “Probation”.

 And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. 29 For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son, so that He would be the firstborn among many brethren (Romans 8:28-29 NASB)

To Be Continued

[1] Psalm 42:5 (NASB, NLT)

Please Check out the  Cola City Podcast . Discussions that impact the vision of reaching every man, woman, and child in a city.

Joy in the Journey is about the gladness of God’s nearness in the midst of life’s adventures.

Subscribe below to get email notifications of new posts. We post a few times a month. Thank you for reading. 

 

Robby Buck

Novels by the Author:

What happens when a professor figures out how to send messages to his younger self to try and avoid the suicide of his best friend? Did he change more than he bargained for?  Beyond Time

By finding two undelivered letters in a old shack deep in the woods, Cassie and Daniel unknowing set off a series of events which uncover a plot to wipe out a whole family Hope Remains

 

Packages (Part 3)

Part 1 

Part 2

The following morning, it took considerably longer for me to hear Him. Honestly, it felt as though I’d been resting on the packages for hours. As before, they stretched out beyond my vision. In the distance, I could make out a lake or sea. I wondered if I was in a different location or if it was there all along and I hadn’t noticed it. The vibrant hues of dawn appeared to persist longer than usual.

The previous night, Jill had asked, “How will we pay our bills?” 

I had no good answer for that, other than going into our savings. Because I was being calm, she wondered if I was in shock. 

Then I heard, “Worthy.” 

“Sir?”

“In this place there is grace, along with the kindness you learned about yesterday. And there’s so much more. Rest awhile longer. Another adventure awaits you.”

As I rested, I thought about being marinated in kindness and grace.

Having the day off, I enjoyed spending extra time with Jill before she left for work. Concerning her morning package, I heard “Explain why your meeting with Sammy made such an impression on you.”

There was no need to push the agenda. As I sat down at the breakfast table, Jill asked, “What made your encounter with the disabled veteran so impactful? You talked more about that than how you’ve been wrongly accused and suspended without pay.”

I was still grappling with the question myself, but as I began to speak, I hoped an answer would emerge. “What transpired at work troubled me deeply, I had to be alone. After getting my coffee, I saw Sammy as I was headed to the park. I felt directed to try and help him.

“While I was with him, the work problems fell off my radar, especially because he was so appreciative. As I got to know him, love and joy overshadowed my feelings of being falsely accused and rejected. Does that make any sense?”

Jill nodded, absorbing everything. “Listen,” she said after a pause, “I can pick up some extra hours at work until we sort this out. Meanwhile, you can treat today like a snow day without the snow—an unexpected, unplanned day off.”

I smiled. That sounded great. 

I had a lunch meeting scheduled with my friend Fred. Meanwhile, I brewed some coffee and savored the sights and sounds of a cool spring morning on our deck.

After some time, I heard the sound of gentle weeping. It was coming from next door where Alice lived. She is an elderly woman whose husband, Ray, passed away just a few months ago. They’d become like family to us.

I walked around to the front and saw her rocking gently, hands over her face.

“What’s wrong Alice?”

As she caught sight of me, the floodgates opened, and tears streamed down her face. I sat down beside her, and heard, “Listen. Offer grace.” 

“I feel so alone,” she gasped, wiping away her tears. “This is my first birthday without Ray, and our children forgot about it; they didn’t even call.”

One of her children had called me about a surprise birthday party they were throwing for her on Saturday, which, to my understanding, was her birthday.

“Isn’t your birthday Saturday? I asked.

“It was yesterday,” she replied sadly.

I knew enough of Alice’s growing dementia not to try and set her straight. I figured she’d enjoy the surprise all the more on Saturday.

“I feel rejected, and unloved,” she continued. “Worthless.”

Worthless! The opposite of the word worthy I heard while I was resting on the packages earlier.

“What makes you feel worthless?” I asked.

“If the closest people in your life reject you, doesn’t that make you worthless?”

“If you measure your worth by who people say you are, then I see what you mean,” I replied. “You love your kids. And I know they love you too. You’ll understand what I mean soon enough. But how people treat us doesn’t determine our value. If it did, we’d all be worthless. Sooner or later, people we love break our hearts.” 

As I talked, I thought about how our oldest child had disowned us years ago.

“However, if our worth is based on what God thinks of us, through His Son Jesus Christ, we are never worthless,” I continued. I was surprised at my words. I needed to hear them as much or more than she did.

We went on to talk about the grace that saves our souls when we stop trying to “save” ourselves. 

Alice became more and more in touch with what I was saying as we talked. She’s a church goer, but I got the impression she didn’t really understand salvation in Christ alone, apart from our works. 

Eventually, she realized her birthday was Saturday and we had a good laugh. 

As I drove to meet Fred for lunch, the word ‘worthless’ lingered in my mind. I had often sought validation from the world as well. It struck me how fragile a foundation it is to base one’s identity on the opinions of others, on achievements, or on striving to be righteous in our own strength.

Fred was already seated when I walked into Bill and Fran’s restaurant. “Hey bud,” he greeted me, as I took my place in the booth next to him. Fred was the only person I had journeyed with from kindergarten all the way through college. 

About halfway through our meal, after we’d caught up on our families and activities, I noticed his package beside me. Then I heard, “Trust me.” I’d find out later this was more for my benefit than Fred’s.

“I have pancreatic cancer,” Fred said. 

Seeing the shock on my face, he paused before continuing. “I don’t have long Bobby.”  

Fred went on to explain that the tumor had grown before they found it. He’d been given months to live, even with treatment.

I was in total shock and couldn’t get Fred and his family out of my mind as I drove home. Why Fred? I felt confused and angry.

As I pulled into the driveway, my phone vibrated with a text message. It was from Mike, my boss, requesting to meet me the following day at two o’clock.

“He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace which He lavished on us (Ephesians 1:5-8a NASB).

To Be Continued

Please Check out the  Cola City Podcast . Discussions that impact the vision of reaching every man, woman, and child in a city.

Joy in the Journey is about the gladness of God’s nearness in the midst of life’s adventures.

Subscribe below to get email notifications of new posts. We post a few times a month. Thank you for reading. 

 

Robby Buck

Novels by the Author:

What happens when a professor figures out how to send messages to his younger self to try and avoid the suicide of his best friend? Did he change more than he bargained for?  Beyond Time

By finding two undelivered letters in a old shack deep in the woods, Cassie and Daniel unknowing set off a series of events which uncover a plot to wipe out a whole family Hope Remains