Ken Pierpont's Blog, page 170

Advice for the Lonely

The family sang at a funeral in Kentucky this week. The chapel was packed. Over five hundred people signed the guest book. We wound up the hill to the cemetery for the graveside service and military rites, then we gathered at the Baptist Church for diner with the family. As a small girl Lois lived in a small house just across the creek from the church. I went to the food table hoping to find scalloped corn. There was none, but the green beans were like nothing you will ever eat out of a can. We sat down and Lois gave me a bite of her banana pudding and said, "This is the way they make it down here. You've never had better."

I tried a bite. It was good. I try to eat in moderation, but I did go back to the table for some banana pudding of my own. The fellowship hall was crowded. My sister in law was looking for a seat. I said, "Sit there with Lois. I will stand up."

Lois said, "No, she can sit over there. You sit here with me."

I said, "No, let Lavonne sit with you. I'll find another spot."

Lois insisted. "No, Ken. Sit here with me." I thought it was unusual for her to insist on making a place for me, because she lives so far from her sister. They don't see each other that often.

Finally she said, "Well, here. If youre not going to sit with me, at least give me a bite of your banana pudding."

I love it when Lois wants me to sit with her. I think I have discovered the key to her heart. From now on I am going to carry around a plate of good, old-fashioned, Kentucky-style banana pudding. I'll never be lonely again.

Kentucky, August 2009

Not Here, Not Now

A few years ago we lived in a place where natural beauty was sparse. There were usually birds in view, some geometrically placed trees, plants clinging to life, and the ever-changing sky. There was a river that ran by at the foot of the hotel in which we lived. On a clear day standing on a footbridge you could see that the river really is, amazingly, teaming with life. Waterfowl floated on its surface. Big fish prowled the bottom, Catfish and Suckers – Bottom dwellers. City dwellers. They are evidence of lower forms of life that make up their diet. They say a peregrine falcon was nesting on a ledge high on a building across the river. The boys saw it dive and attack it prey. They say it was almost pitiful to watch the falcon dive with such velocity and force killing its prey in mid air.

There were plants, flowers, flowering ornamental bushes and trees here and there and they were real even if they were synthetically arranged. They were not in the wild. They were still beautiful enough to stir life in your heart when they caught you by surprise in a shaft of sunlight on a brisk morning run or mellow in the fading evening.

One morning we got a glimpse of nature up close. It was interesting. There was a rat in the restaurant one morning.

I'm not talking about a mouse. Mice are as common as houseflies in the horse barn. I am talking about a rat. A rat the size that would easily rival anything born and bred in the bountiful cornfields of central Indiana. This guy was sitting on the floor in the middle of the restaurant like he had dinner reservations and he was waiting on someone to take his drink order.

It was one of my sons who saw him first. In the dim light he thought it was a child's toy and bent over to pick it up. It didn't move and he would have scooped it up had it not moved its tail just before he touched it. He felt the tail brush across his sandaled toe and froze. He went for reinforcements. One of our valiant young men found a cudgel nearby and dispatched him swiftly from this earth. There are some forms of nature that we are really not always eager to enjoy.

We contracted with a pest-control company. The health department would take a dim view of us keeping a pet rat in our restaurant. We try to keep in their good graces. It's just good business practice. When we want to see wildlife we prefer to pay for admission to a zoo or happen across them in the woods or in the sky or on the surface of the lake, not as uninvited guests in our home. That would be a level of hospitality we would not be comfortable with. We like to get out in nature but when nature invades our space we euphemistically label it a "pest" and use deadly force to expel it from our lives.

We don't mind a hound at the foot of our bed, an eagle tracing across the sky, a kitten curled up by the fire, or an elk on a stark mountainside, but we draw a line at a rat in the kitchen. Everything has its time and its place and when I see a rat in the kitchen I just think, not here. Not now.

Kenneth L. Pierpont

Brook Place

Hinsdale, Illinois

October 28, 2007

Chuk's Resume–you gotta read it!

This is the only resume I have ever read that makes me cry. If you know someone who is looking for a pastor or youth pastor, you might want to have them take a look at this. Chuk is gifted in preaching and in people. He has uncanny insight into situations and unusual ability to express his heart. He has a deep and sincere love for God. I'm not ashamed to beat the drum for him.

Here is a link to his bio

Here is a link to his resume

They are both good reading.

Jerusalem on the Lord's Day

We are in Jerusalem on the Lord's Day. The birds have been singing for hours in the courtyard outside our room. I can hear bells ringing and smell bread baking. it should be a wonderful week. The dining room looks out on the walls of the Old City. I hope they have good coffee.

Are you taught by Jesus?

What two things do Vance Havner, Charles Spurgeon, A. W. Tozer, G. Campbell Morgan, Robert T. Ketchum, and D. L. Moody all have in common? All of them had profound national influence for Christ and a lifetime of successful Christian ministry, and none of would have qualified to be on the pastoral staff most churches because of a lack of formal education. Now there is something to think about.

Peter and John were common men who were uneducated and untrained formally, but they had the advantage of having been with Jesus. They were powerfully used to change the world for Christ.



Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated and untrained men, they marveled. And they realized that they had been with Jesus. (Acts 4:13)

The Scriptures say that knowledge "puffs up." That is a way of say that education can breed pride, which is the death of real ministry. A continual awareness of need, weakness, and pockets of ignorance have a humbling effect which can drive a person to the books, to their knees, and to God for help. A person with an education should be grateful, not proud. A person who lacks education should be a humble, life-long learner, not proud – maligning those with formal training.

If you are discouraged and wonder if you can be used of God, get to know Jesus intimately. He uses people who have been with him. Have you been with Jesus? Are you walking with Jesus? Are you enjoying fellowship with God? Education can be a good thing, but it is no substitute for having been with Jesus.

My Adirondack Chair

My Grandfather named things. He named his cows. He named his tractors. He even gave my Grandmother a nickname. She had a perfectly good name when he met her. It was a beautiful, appropriate, honorable name that fit her perfectly. Her name is Grace but grandpa always called her Tiny.

My Dad acquired the habit of naming things from him. His names have never been literary masterpieces. They are more playful and descriptive. Examples include names like "Tricky Little Copper" and "the Cardboard Bank."

I've named a few things myself. (Ask me about my bike someday).

Years ago I was assigned to accompany a group of teenage girls to summer camp. I had been under a great deal of pressure from a new series of responsibilities. I was adjusting to a difficult boss. My family was young and I wanted to spend time with them more than anything but I had no choice. The trip was required.

The camp was on an island in up state New York. When we arrived I rode the ferry to the Island to get them acclimated. I helped them to their cabins and began to look for mine. I was informed that there would be no room for me on the island. I would have to stay on the mainland. I would also have to share a room. The room was in an old inn and the inn was not air-conditioned. I was disappointed that I would be separated from the young people.

While I was unpacking my things my roommate informed me that they only served two meals a day. I felt like I was in for a long, difficult week.

But the inn turned out to be charming. The week was cool with low humidity all week and I still fondly remember the food. My roommate was a fascinating man who ran triathlons but was willing to allow me to pace him on morning runs. The students on the island were absorbed in their own schedules and friendships. That allowed me to attend the preaching sessions of two very different but gifted expositors of the Bible. I enjoyed a week of beautiful sacred music and skilled bible teaching.

I ran in the mornings, visited the students, ferried back for the late morning preaching sessions and spent the afternoons reading in an Adironcack chair. The chair sat on a hillside overlooking a beautiful mountain lake under fragrant pines.

It was the restoration of my soul. At the bookstore I purchased a devotional title that matched my mood. The little reprint was called "Pleasant Paths." The author was Vance Havner.

Over the years I would collect every Havner title I could find. His essays were devotional essays with a keen eye to nature. They were bite-sized, witty and engaging, and warmly devotional. Hanver was an evangelical Will Rogers.

I went way from my relaxing week convinced of three things. First, I knew that I would need to leave the place where I was ministering. Second, I would read everything I could get my hands on by Vance Havner. And finally, I would someday own an Adirondack chair.

A few years ago we attended a festival in Coshocton, Ohio. Music drifted through the air along with the smells of various delicious foods. The music came from an eccentric old fiddler we came to know as Charles Stienman.

We struck up a friendship with him and eventually visited his home. On his porch was an Adirondack chair. I commented on it and he said; "Oh, I hate that thing. If you get in it you can't get out." I thought; "If I get in it I wouldn't want to get out," but replied; "If you are ever looking for a buyer for it, let me know." He insisted that he wanted to give it to me, but I didn't take it.

One day in autumn I stopped by his house with a twenty dollar bill to see if I could talk him into taking money for the chair. I told him I would like to buy the chair and asked him to set a price. He wouldn't. Finally Lois said; "It's worth a lot more, but would you be willing to take twenty dollars for it?" He looked at her sternly and growled; "I wouldn't think of taking more than fifteen." I have enjoyed hours of reading and rest in that chair.

I like simple things that are well designed and well built. I like low maintenance things that last. You don't serve them they serve you. They fit comfortably into your life like an old sweater and you will still be enjoying them long after the Goodwill has adopted that "Tickle Me Elmo" that was essential to little Suzy's normal childhood adjustment. I like simple things like a good jackknife or harmonica you will still cherish for years after you have taken five dollars at a garage sale for the video game system that you will buy with your Visa card this Christmas. (Have you ever had the urge to give your video game system a name you would be willing to use in front of your mother? I don't think so).

One Saturday this fall, I gave my Adirondack a nice thick coat of white oil-based paint. He's looking good. He's sitting over in the corner of my room right now. I'm thinking of giving him a name. I wish you the best and that includes a few things in your life worth naming and some restful times to enjoy them.

From Israel!

Lois and I are in Israel. It is lush and beautiful here. We have visited so many meaningful and beautiful places following the footsteps of Our Lord Jesus. We began our day yesterday climbing Mt. Arbel… from there you have a stunning view of Galilee and the Holy Land. The sun was bright and the air was cool. The mountain will clothed with flowers. Watching Lois there reading her Bible on a rock overlooking the fishing villages with snowy Mt. Herman to the north, moved me to tears. To think of a little girl from a tiny village in Eastern Kentucky there where Jesus lived and walked…

We visited the village of Capernaum and I met Michael Easely, the past President of Moody there outside the Synagogue were Jesus visited many times. We saw the house of Peter. We visited the place where they believer Jesus made a breakfast of fish for Jesus after the resurrection. Chuk asked me if I told Jesus I loved him three times… I answered that in this land my heart has been stirred with love for Jesus over and over again.

On our first day here we woke up high over the Mediterranean Sea. That day we visited Caesarea Maritima… the very place on the margin of the sea where Herod built his "little Rome." It was there that Herod Agrippa fell down during a great oration and was eaten of worms because he did not give God the glory. The aqueduct there is preserved and a stunning sight against the Sea. We visited the amazing Tel of Megiddo in the Carmel Mountains and stood high over the Valley of Armeggedon, thinking of many past battles and the great battle that is yet future when Jesus returns.

We visited Nazareth, where Jesus live as a boy and a high precipice where he escapted when they tried to kill him. From there we visited a city where he and his father may have worked as stone-masons… It is a fascinating land adn beautiful.

The food is wonderful and the fellowship has been rich, laughing and crying through the days. We ended our tour last night at the Jordan River. You would have laughed to watch our Jewish dance on the boat on Sea of Galillee. You will enjoy the pictures of this.

I will post more when I can. Today we visit Gamla and Dan, Susita and Caesarea Philippi. I will have more stories to tell.

Lois is well and taking thousands of beautiful pictures. We will share them upon our return.

God's Best to all of you;

We are Under the Mercy

Ken and Lois in the Holy Land

The Grace of Receiving

When we moved to Flint to assume the direction of the ministry here at the Character Inn we discarded or gave away many, many things. We now live in an apartment on the sixth floor in six rooms. We have a storage room in the basement. In preparation for our move we hauled away six truckloads of things at one point and gave many things to Goodwill or just threw them away.

There was one thing I could never throw away because it was too meaningful to me. It was my favorite Adirondack chair. A few who knew me well knew it was a cherished possession but there would really be no place for it in our new home. I held onto it until the last minute not sure what to do.

When the day of the move came a dear friend, John Webster came over to help us load the truck. The last item remaining was my Adirondack chair. I stood and looked at it and memories flooded into my mind. The chair has character and a history. It is a very photogenic chair. John and his wife Beth borrowed the chair from time to time as a prop for family photos. Beth's photos are some of the best I have ever seen. She is the one who took the photo of our family that we have posted on our web site.

John and I stood in the drive for a while. I hated to say goodbye. John and his family were dear, dear friends. When we moved to the area six years earlier, his daughters were a specific answer to prayer as companions for our girls. They were inseparable friends. The Websters began to attend First Baptist and they are still there today.

John and I spoke for a few minutes not wanting to say good bye. I tried to express my admiration and love to him and then I said, "John, we would like you to have this chair."

"How much do you want for the chair?"

"John, I would never sell it. Why don't you just let me give it to you?"

"Oh no, Pastor, I couldn't take your chair," he said. "I know what that chair means to you."

"That's why I want you to have it," I said.

He said, "Let me take care of it for you until you need it again."

But I insisted that he receive it as a gift and as an expression of my love and appreciation for he and his beautiful family. When I finally persuaded him to receive the chair as a gift, he thanked me warmly and his eyes were cloudy with tears. So were mine. He considered it an honor to receive the chair that meant so much to me. The gracious way he received my gift was more than payment enough for the chair.

Last weekend John's daughters came to the Character Inn for a visit. They brought pictures. The old Adirondack chair was in them. Shuffling through the pictures I noticed that John repaired the chair and gave it a fresh coat of paint. So the chair has gone to a good home, to people who appreciate what a fine chair it is and know a little about it's history.

My heart was warm when I thought of how gracefully, even reverently John received the gift I gave him a year ago. When you think of it giving is a grace, but being a good receiver is a grace, too. The grace of receiving.

Many, many people will never receive good gifts from the Lord Jesus, even the gift of salvation, because they don't have the quality my friend John has, the ability to humbly receive a gift as a gesture of love from someone else. John was a good receiver because he acknowledged the value of the gift and was willing to receive it without insisting on paying for it. God gave his only Son for our sin. Imagine the foolishness and pride of thinking we could ever somehow adequately compensate God for the life of his son. A person with a right understanding of the value of the gift simply receives the gift with a reverent heart, humble thanks and tear-filled eyes.

Kenneth L. Pierpont

November 3, 2003

Riverfront Character Inn

Flint, Michigan

Prayer at the End of a Difficult Day

About to go to bed at the end of a difficult day I did not want my spirit clouded by darkeness so I wrote out this prayer:

"God of Heaven; Make me mighty in spirit so I can inspire others to be mighty in spirit. I would like the gift of a robust spiritual appetite so I will grow into a man with a big, healthy soul. Never allow me to descend to flounder in the foul swamp of pettiness. Help me see beyond the sinfulness of the people around me. Help me to see people through the lens of their potential in Christ. Help me to visualize what people can become when Christ is formed in them. Help me not to see their brokenness and weakness as final, but to imagine them growing more and more like their Creator and their Savior until they are with Him in their glorified condition. Before I go to bed I want to thank you for your patience with me and ask you to give me patience with others. -In Jesus Name, Amen

Talking in the Night

Years ago in my room at Moody I would pray at night with my roommate Paul Davidheizer. We would get in our beds and turn off the light, then we would each pray. After we prayed we would usually talk for a while. Often I would still be talking after I discovered the Paul was asleep. He was a great guy but I could just talk longer than he could listen.

I am almost always the first one up in the morning around our place. So when bedtime comes for me Hope, who is four and enjoys the luxury of sleeping in, usually has another good half hour of energy left in her day. She doesn't wind down slowly and the end of the day. She finishes her day like a runner straining for the tape. She always has a little burst, a little sprint to the finish. I know in a perfect world parents put their children to sleep at night. That's not always the way it works at our house.

The other night I was exhausted and eager to sleep. I had an early start the next day and a full agenda. I got into bed. But Hope was in no mood to sleep. She had a place of her own but she came in our room and jumped in bed with us and refused to lie down. For a few minutes she used the bed for a trampoline until I made her stop.

"Lie down right now and go to sleep Hope." I warned her, and I turned off the light.

She lay down but my warning and the darkness had no effect on her whatever. She jabbered on about her day, her dolls, her diet and her general philosophy of life unabated. She punctuated her stories with pointed questions demanding a response. One of us would mumble a barely coherent answer and she would chatter on.

Finally she interrupted her own energetic soliloquy with a question, "Am I talking too much?"

With that we were both awake and chuckling. We both quickly assured her that she was not at all talking too much. When heavy eyes ended my day she still had stories to tell.

As I drifted off to sleep I took comfort in the thought of my unsleeping Heavenly Father who never tires of hearing me talk. He wants to know when I have something to celebrate. He likes it when I tell him my fears and unburden my guilty heart to Him. His listens when I chatter excitedly about my plans. He cares about what I think. He even stays awake at night and listens when I am talking in the dark. He can listen longer than I can talk.

Kenneth L. Pierpont

Riverfront Character Inn

Flint, Michigan

September 29, 2003