Bittersweet Farm Journal (Number 77) Hard Times

The temperature started at 60 this morning and it will drop below 20 by Saturday night. I just took a stroll with Hazard. The wind has picked up and it is chilly. It may even spit a little snow out here tonight. That’s OK. It won’t last long.

Sunday I will preach at Bethel, and I’m not kidding here, from the roof of my study. We will have drive-in church and we will broadcast the message and music on an FM signal so people can listen from the snug safety and security of their own cars. Check it out and let us know you are coming.

Here is my most recent Stories From Bittersweet Farm Podcast

Hard Times

We baled hay for Grandpa in the summers of my youth. After bailing our families gathered in the yard under a huge Maple tree. The aunts and uncles. Our grandparents. The cousins. We picnicked on thick burgers, potato chips, and pork and beans. We washed them down with icy sweet tea. Hungry and hot from your labor we devoured cold watermelon, or sometimes ice cream, and then we settled back to listen to stories.

Usually the stories were about surviving the Great Depression or the enduring the hardships of WWII. There were tales of the far-away and exotic, but mostly they were stories of making-do with home-made toys and rationing.

As a young pastor I often visited with people who had lived through these times of unforgettable hardship and sacrifice. These were good, Christian people and they were good citizens. They were devout and they were patriotic. I was almost always left with the same impression. Looking back on them those times of hardship and sacrifice were good times. They were good times, because people trusted the Lord and they were good times because people helped one another.

My grandparents often told stories of gathering around the radio in those days, eagerly listening for news of the progress of war and praying and hoping for its end.

Now every night we gather around the TV out here on Bittersweet Farm and we listen to the swift-changing details of a plague sweeping across the globe. I am reminded of the good people, now mostly gone on to be with the Lord, who survived hard times before us. They conceived of the world we enjoy today in their hearts and built it with their own hands. I remember their stories and the unforgettable lesson they seemed to hold: Hard times can be good times, if we trust the Lord and stick together.

Bittersweet Farm

March 20, 2020