Ken Pierpont's Blog, page 134

September 30, 2013

Happy Pictures of Hannah and Dale – Mackinac Island

Dale and Hannah yellow


Hannah and Dale (our daughter and son-in-law) enjoyed a Pure Michigan Honeymoon along the West Coast of Michigan. They ended their week on Mackinac Island and asked us to join them and take some photos. It was a beautiful day. Lois took scores of pictures. I thought you might want to see the photos, so here they are. If you explore Lois’s site you can see the wedding photos, too. Photographic evidence of the kind favor of our God.


Here are some amazing pictures of a very happy day.


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Published on September 30, 2013 07:03

Laughing with a Lump in My Throat

Garage


This week October comes to Michigan. She is always a welcome guest. She never over-stays her welcome. I worked cleaning and organizing the garage. Saturday was one of those days you look forward to all year. I love having organized the garage. To some men the garage is their domain. If pressed I would have to say the study is my domain, maybe the pulpit is my domain. Maybe the family-room is my domain and my recliner is my throne. The garage to me is a necessary evil. I’m not one of those guys with a carpeted garage. I don’t have a peg-board on the wall with tool silhouettes painted on it. I don’t putter out there for hours on end. To me the garage is a very utilitarian place where you store things that really can’t go anywhere else.  It’s where you put things that smell of gas and oil and things you don’t need very often. The garage is where you archive things that you really can’t bring yourself to throw away.


I’ve been thinking about cleaning the garage since last winter. “When the snow melts and it’s warm outside I will get out there,” I said to myself. Well, it was a very warm spring and the garage went from cold to hot. The cold froze my motivation and the heat melted it. I avoided the garage. A few weeks ago, it cooled down a bit and to silence my accusing conscience I went out and emptied the garage into the driveway. I started to organize when the phone rang. I was needed at the hospital. I quickly put everything back into the garage for another day–maybe another year. But on Saturday, oh, Saturday the moon and planets all lined up on Saturday and I took my radio out to the garage, stripped down to a tee-shirt, and mounted a full frontal assault on the garage.


It was a crisp fall morning. I’d had my coffee and a pumpkin spice donut. There was football chatter on the radio. For a few autumn saturday mornings of the year I love to hear football chatter on the radio. I cleaned and swept and organized and moved things around and re-packaged things. I explored boxes that had not been opened for a decade or more.


Then I found a box in a box. I opened it. Pictures, a ten-year old box of pictures. When you are raising children a lot changes in ten years. I found a chair and sat down. For the next hour a turned back the pages of our life ten years, snapping pictures of pictures with my cell phone, remembering and laughing with a lump in my throat.


There was a picture of our whole family around a huge table in a restaurant. The picture was taken when all the children were still at home. There they were. All eight of them. Four sons. Four daughters. We went everywhere we went together in one car. Looking at that wonderful old picture and I had two significant thoughts:


The first thought was, “Wow, that’s a lot of kids. How on earth did we ever feed, clothe, and care for so many children?” The picture was taken in the Ohio Amish country. When we ate out during those years it was usually at Little Caesars. We would get a couple pizzas and demand that every bit of crust was eaten before they got another piece. Across the street at Woosley’s the sold canned pop for a quarter. If we were on the road we would go to Meijer and get a two-liter of pop and share it. We could not afford to go to a sit-down restaurant to eat.


But all those years God provided. God provided though the church and our diligent labor in it, gathering people who shared with us. God provided through Lois’s hard and continual work. She made things for we to sell. She had all the children at home with her all day, but still she was continually making things. God provided by giving me extra work, driving the Amish, assembling playgrounds with the boys, or peddling Lois’ dolls or crafts. For a season he gave me just the job I needed to supplement my income working one day a week taking insurance claims. God provided through the gifts of people. People gave us gifts of money or clothing or food. They paid for special opportunities for us or for the children. They built nice parsonages for us to live in that we didn’t have to pay for. Friends would share a load of wood or a cut of meet or a basket of garden tomatoes or tickets to a concert or an afternoon on their boat or a weekend at their cottage.


I spoke at camps and God provided opportunities for the family to enjoy Michigan’s beautiful North Country that way. Sometimes God provided through answered prayer by reducing our expenses. We went years without having to go to the doctor or hospital—years without a single doctor visit. He provided dental care. We paid to get the kid’s teeth fixed, God provided jobs so the kids could pay to keep them strait. For years we had a wonderful old farmhouse on a dead-end road with free heat for only 400 dollars a month.  We were starting a church and we had so little, but the memories and experiences in that old farmhouse are so precious to me today that they make me ache with gratitude. God has been so good. I keep a little snapshot of that house in front of me every day to remind me of how God provided that house as a direct answer to the prayer of a ten-year-old boy.


Usually we ate inexpensive casseroles and saved money wherever we could. So to go to a restaurant… This was an occasion. A rare occasion. A special day. This day we were all sitting around the table the Das Dutch Essenhaus… in Walnut Creek in Holmes Country, Ohio. I quickly calculated the cost of that single meal and realized that I was looking at a picture of a significant and expensive meal… a big event. Year after year, week after week, morning by morning God has provided. Isn’t He wonderful?


But there was another thought that came to me as I looked at that photo. Will every one of those children be around the table of fellowship when Heaven and Earth are new? I have deep in my heart a great longing to see each of these children, every one of them, around the table of fellowship with the Lord in Heaven one day. I want each of them to live with heaven on their mind all the time and I want each of them to be there when they die. I can’t imagine an empty place at that table. It is too painful to conceive.


Will you be at that table, or will there be an empty chair? Will those you love be there?


Ken Pierpont

Granville Cottage

Riverview, Michigan

September 30, 2013


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Published on September 30, 2013 06:55

September 27, 2013

Pleasures Forevermore

Hannah Dale Bridge


When I was a boy I discovered that if I would swing and lean back and then lean forward quickly on the descent, I would have a feeling of weightlessness. At the time I considered it a wonderful feeling of euphoria. I tried to show others how to experience the unusual feeling of sudden weightlessness.


I would not know for years that there were unspeakably greater pleasures that God had designed for me to experience later. One of those pleasures was the pleasure of marital intimacy. Wouldn’t it have been foolish for me to say that the pleasure of a little boy on the playground is all the pleasure I ever want or need to experience, when God designed other pleasures to wonderful to adequately describe? It would. And it would be equally foolish to doubt that there are pleasures forevermore that go far beyond even the wonderful pleasure of marital intimacy.


How could heaven be blissful, more wonderful than earth, and yet without marriage and marital relations?


The best marriages include trouble. On this fallen earth all human relationships are troubled. Not so in heaven. Even in the very best of marriages there is longing for things that are not and will never be. Not so in heaven. Even your relationship with your believing spouse is troubled by the effects of the fall. If I started to give examples you would all laugh. Some of you would cry. Those incompatibilities will be removed and replaced with heavenly love. There are pleasures for us greater than we have every experienced and greater than we can imagine.


At his right hand are pleasures forevermore. (Psalm 16)


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Published on September 27, 2013 13:59

September 22, 2013

Quiet Morning Thoughts

Fall Bike Woods


Before there were children there were dreams and desires. Then the children came one at a time every couple years for the next two happy decades. There are eight of them-every one a priceless blessing from God. They filled our lives with joy and our hearts with love. They filled the air with the musical noise of their laughter. They filled the garage with bikes and just a few years later they filled the street in front of the house with cars and trucks. Now they are packing up their own dreams and, like they came, every couple years, they are moving out and making their way in the world.


This morning I step out quietly into the autumn air. The wind is making music in the trees. There is golden light in the tops of the Cottonwoods. The birds are as silent as my heart and the cars and trucks in the street are almost gone.


Ken Pierpont

Granville Cottage

Riverview, Michigan

September 22, 2013


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Published on September 22, 2013 05:17

September 19, 2013

Don’t Miss the Corn Moon Tonight

CORN MOON


Be careful not to live with your head down. You will miss the glory and wonder of the sky.


I aimed my Jeep west in the pre-dawn light this morning eager to start my preparation for a new series on Heaven–the Eternal State–The New Heavens and the New Earth–The Eternal Kingdom of God. I am calling the series The Ultimate Universe. It seemed appropriate with ultimate things on my heart to see at mid-point in the western sky a hazy full moon glowing yellow.


Last night the waxing moon rose nearly full. It was the Harvest Moon, or the Corn Moon–the full moon that occurs nearest the autumnal equinox. When the children were small we tried to take walks on full-moon nights. That is when we lived on the Rutledge Road farm in a valley and the moon was impossible to miss. The valley opened to the east and a full moon would rise into the sky cradled between hills on either side. Now we live in a pleasant suburb and sometimes the moon hides behind the other houses and trees in the neighborhood. If I am sharp and anticipate it, and late in the night toward bedtime, I step out into the front yard I can find the moon high up in the branches of the massive Cottonwood towering over Granville Cottage.


I had an early morning call yesterday and a late meeting at the church last night so I drove home tired and oblivious to the glory of the Harvest Moon rising in the night sky. But this morning, headed for my coffee with eternal things on my heart, there it was–a hazy yellow ball in the western sky. They say it grew full a half-hour later at about 7:13 a.m.


Lift Up the Eyes of Your Heart


There is a world beyond this world, the dwelling-place of God. One day the dwelling place of God and the dwelling place of man will be one and those who have been made righteous will enjoy him forever on a perfect renewed earth.


They say that tonight the Corn Moon will be near full. I’m hoping for a clear night and a date with Hope and Hazard. If everything goes well we will wait until the moon rises into the eastern sky and we will walk to the park and circle the pond and enjoy the stirring sight of the moon climbing the night sky. Not everything in life happens immediately on cue, but if it does tonight geese will from a “V” in the sky and honk their way across the glowing face of the moon. There will be a silvery path on the water, and Hope will squeeze my hand. We’ll see what happens. I’ll let you know.


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Published on September 19, 2013 06:03

September 17, 2013

Two Women Holding Hands on an Autumn Afternoon

Kenyon Autumn


I was in Ann Arbor on Labor Day weekend. We had lunch at a favorite spot. The girls wanted to visit a shop. I dropped them off and circled the block looking for a place to park. At one corner I paused to allow a woman to cross the street. I noticed she was holding the hand of another woman—a young woman of college age.


A few minutes later I noticed them again. This time I watched their faces. It was a crisp fall afternoon. The sky was clear and the there was anticipation in the air, but they were not smiling. There was something like sadness in their eyes. They were not just holding hands. It was as if they were clinging to each other.


The older woman was the mother. She was a single mother. The younger woman was her only child. This would be her first time away from home. She has won a scholarship to the University. Her mother did not want to say goodbye to her but she could not deny her the opportunity. She has always been a very bright girl. She would not stand in her way. She would experience things her mother had never had the chance to enjoy.


They spent the weekend getting her dorm room ready. There was a little fridge to keep her coffee creamer. There was a burner for her meals. In the lone window were curtains made from the same fabric as her curtians at home.


“So you will remember,” mom said as she hung them. They both had puttered around the apartment all day on the edge of tears. They went to eat though neither of them had an appetite. They were spending their last few hours together. The mother had to leave. She had to work in the morning. She had a tearful drive ahead of her. She would have to leave her daughter alone at the University. She would go home to a silent, empty house for the first time in most of two decades. She was a young woman herself when this began. Not now. You could see all that in their faces while they crossed the busy street clinging to each others hands. At least that is what I imagined while I was circling the block on cool fall afternoon in Ann Arbor.


Everyone you see has a story. No one moves through this world like a machine without a heart. Everyone has a story and a heart and a soul. Everyone you meet has a past and a future and a soul. Everyone, at least at one time, had a dream. Everyone you meet has an appointment with God some day. Keep that in mind while you make your way in the world today. Take time to listen to someone’s story.


Ken Pierpont

Granville Cottage

Riverview, Michigan

September 16, 2013


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Published on September 17, 2013 01:00

September 16, 2013

North With the Girls

Barakel Chapel


Thanks for the photo Heidi Hancock


It’s a cool fall morning in the Downriver. We returned yesterday from a weekend at Camp Barakel ministering to Fathers and Daughters. I was joined by Holly, Heidi, Hannah, Hope, our daughter-in-law Elizabeth, and her father Bruce. Grand-buddie Leland and Grand-princess Keira were along too. I was surprised by my brother Nathan and his oldest Elizabeth. There were four families from Evangel who joined us this time, so as you can imagine, my heart was full of joy and desire to help all who had travelled north for the weekend.


Holly and I were the speakers each taking turns speaking to the dads and daughters. Jeremy Linsley led chapel with his little daughter Tiley who helped with the singing. The temperature was cool–perfect fall retreat weather. Fires burned in dual stone fireplaces during each chapel service. The girl’s testimonies were a powerful help to my preaching. Many dads and daughters told me they were helped. On the way home we all stopped for Pumkin Spice Latte’s. We will long remember our Father-Daughter ministry weekend.


There are few things that provide the pure joy of ministry together as a family. I am basking in the warm glow of it today.


Granville Cottage

September 16, 2013


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Published on September 16, 2013 09:18

September 11, 2013

Followers of Jesus Honor Women

Lois with Camera


This is one of the most important messages I have ever written and preached. I woke up quite early this morning with a burden on my heart for talks I am going to give this weekend to men and women, fathers and daughters and I listened to this message on my pre-dawn walk. Often listening to my own talks is very humbling and hard. Every once in a while I will listen to a message and think, “I wish this talk could reach a wider audience.” That is the way I feel about this vital message. Please take time to listen to it and send me some feed-back.


Date: May 12, 2013 11:00 AM

Title: Followers of Jesus Honor Women

Text: Psalm 8

Speaker: Ken Pierpont


Hope at Grand Haven


One evening we spend some time in our much-loved Grand Haven, Michigan Beech Town. It was a beautiful, blustery evening. Lois captured this image of our youngest, Hope America, one of the cherish women in my life.


Hope and I


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Published on September 11, 2013 03:10

September 9, 2013

Living as Lights in a Perverted World

Lighthouse


Photo by Zach Childers


It’s right to hate sin and the righteous should be a prophetic voice in the culture that is turning it’s back on God, but have you noticed we find it really easy to condemn sins other people struggle with and we tolerate our own besetting sins? Last night I said something like this to the people at Evangel:


“In the last few weeks we have had a petition on our church foyer to encourage people to register their protest of using tax money for abortions. Abortion is murder and God cannot bless a nation will not protect innocent, defenseless children, but maybe we should have a petition against grumbling and complaining now.”


Abortion is evil. Complaining doesn’t seem particularly evil because it is a sin we regularly commit. We want to be a light in our wicked and perverse culture so we make loud noises about abortion and homosexuality. What our twisted world needs now is the kind of churches that move beyond pelting sinners with stones. Sinners need to know groups of Jesus-followers who can give them hope of deliverance from their sin.


Do You Protest Your Own Sin, Or Only That of Others?


Here is the way the Apostle Paul put it in a letter to a early church: “Do all things without grumbling or disputing, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world…” (Phil. 2:14-15 ESV)


While we are helping deliver people from the guilt and shame of secret sexual immorality and while we are using our prophetic voice to teach the law of God, to produce conviction in people who are far from God, and while we are rightfully condemning sin to create a thirst in sinners for the gospel, let’s not neglect Paul’s spirit-inspired command: “Stop grumbling and complaining. Be harmless and innocent of that. That is the way you will shine like lights in crooked and twisted generation.”


The early church was a dynamic church with the power of God because they all were of one heart and one soul and one mind. They prayed in one accord and they said the same thing. They set aside complaining and thousands of raw sinners find the grace of God.


Can God Deliver You From Complaining?


What would happen if church people stopped complaining? Paul said that when we stop complaining our light will start shining, even in a twisted world like ours. If God hasn’t delivered us from grumbling and complaining how can we expect homosexuals to believe God can deliver them?


One more thing. If your circumstances are difficult and you are tempted to complain, read this letter from a Christian doctor in Syria. It will help you be grateful for what you have.


Ken Pierpont

Granville Cottage

Riverview, Michigan

September 9, 2013


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Published on September 09, 2013 04:46

September 6, 2013

Stolen Apples

Cider Season


This morning, when I stepped off the porch, it was cool enough for a jacket. It’s the time of year in Michigan our thoughts drift toward college football, fields of corn turning gold, hayrides, orchards, cinnamon donuts, cider mills, blue autumn mornings, and crisp, sweet apples. Since boyhood I have enjoyed the simple pleasure of eating a new Jonathan apple out on the sunny porch in the cool of an autumn morning. For a while we lived in the little village of Logansville three miles from Degraff, Ohio.


The wonderful back road from Logansville to DeGraff was the setting for many of my favorite boyhood adventures. Swimming in the creek, riding my bike, running from mean dogs, and apple fights with Glenn Fairchild and Steve Strunk.


One day we climbed over a fence and into an apple tree. We ate a few apples and used the rest for “hand grenades.” Lobbing the apples at each other none us noticed the man approaching. He was the farmer who owned the tree and the surrounding property upon which we were trespassing.


The man looke at us sternly but rather than ordering us off his property or giving us a tongue-lashing, he said something that surprise us all; “Boys you are welcome to those apples, I just don’t want you to waste them. You are free to come by here any time, but eat what you take.” I remember thinking, “When I grow up, that is the kind of man I want to be.”


Vance Havner was a boy preacher. He left college after his first semester and never returned. Instead he travelled all over the nation preaching at every major Bible College and Conference in the land. He was a personal friend of Billy Graham. Havner wrote over 30 books. One summer afternoon up in Schroon Lake, New York, sitting in an Adirondack chair overlooking the water Havner’s delightful little book Pleasant Paths inspired me to write.


When he was young he fell into confusion because scholars kept telling him that large parts of the Bible were not for him… They said he was trespassing on the promises of God for others.




“In my early Christian experience I set out to read the Bible, taking the promises at face value, believing the Scriptures as I found them without benefit of footnotes or commentaries. I began with Genesis and was claiming everything for myself when I was informed that those promises were for the Jews! My ardor was dampened but I did not want to lay hold of anything that did not belong to me, so I moved into the New Testament and began to appropriate the blessings of the Sermon on the Mount when again I was interrupted and duly notified that all those things belonged to the Kingdom Age. Not wanting to trespass on the Kingdom Age, whatever that was, I started over in the Acts and was daring to claim some if not all the fruits of Pentecost when I was again reminded that the Acts covered a transitional period and that we were not to press those matters too literally! By then, I did not know which promises were mine nor could I stand with confidence on any passage of Scripture lest some divider of the Word might come along like a policeman to order me off private property. In desperation I said, “Lord, I’ve heard of a man without a country, and I’m becoming a Christian without a Bible. Give me a verse I can claim for my own.” He answered with one I have stood upon ever since: “. . .let God be true, but every man a liar .” (Romans 3:4)!”



God is eager to bless and his promises are abundant. The Bible is full of promises. They reveal the generous nature of God. The owner of the orchard of Biblical promises is not eager to order us off his property. He wants us to taste the sweetness of his promises—all we want, and not waste a single one. All of them have application to every child of God. Sink your teeth into them.


Ken Pierpont

Granville Cottage

Riverview, Michigan

September 6, 2013


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Published on September 06, 2013 07:30