SIMPLY TRUST THAT YOUR INTEGRITY WILL REPRODUCE

“The righteous man walks in his integrity: His children are blessed after him.” Proverbs 20:7

One night around a campfire Dr. Robert Brandt (“A Heritage of Honesty” in Decision Magazine, July-August 1991, 8-9), told his sons about a workman injured by a sliding boulder. He was dirt poor, and he feared losing his job. Because he couldn’t afford a horse, he walked everywhere; so his injured foot was a constant trial. When payday came, he limped to the general store for groceries. Back home, he discovered the he’d been given too much change. Despite the searing pain, he limped back to the store to return the change.

“What do you think, guys? Asked Dr. Brandt. “Did he do the right thing?

The boys discussed it, then Brandt finished the story. “Before he died, (the young father) had passed his values in honesty to his children and his grandchildren. Even his great-grandchildren still hear about his honesty… He was my grandfather and your great-grandfather!”

As parents and as people, we model our integrity after that of our heavenly Father. Indeed, “The righteous walk in their integrity, and their children will be blessed after them.”

Merlin from here on:

With Mother’s Day in the wings, I suggest we each reflect on our mother’s if possible, considering perhaps one or several events of your choosing that your memory over the years as flagged and pretty much now has direct access whenever so triggered. Have you ever contemplated its significance and why it’s now a default recall? Significant yet today?

Perhaps it is an event in your family tree as the story above. Perhaps it is yet as vivid as I remembering the summer day in ’54 or ’55 when my mother packed up my sis and I up in our recently acquired ’49 Dodge pickup and drove 5-6 miles to the location of her birth home farm in a MN wilderness. Although the buildings were gone and the 35 acre opening in the woods, much of which Grandpa had cleared, reminds me of Laura Ingalls Wilder book The Little House in the Big Woods but not in Wisconsin, but rather, in Height of Land township of Becker Co. in west central MN. Strange, but my fifth grade one room teacher read us at least three from that series to restore order amongst the 25 of us after the chaos of lunch and recess.

Sorry for the digression. The field was indeed becoming smaller, not that mother told me, but that within a few years I myself had witnessed how the prolific ever reproducing sapling popular trees could in 10 years move 100 feet into a field if it were not under cultivation or pastured hard to keep the new growth at bay. We entered the woods and soon came upon a one room schoolhouse, in the middle of no where so it seemed. No playground remained as the trees had proven victorious; its windows mostly broken, door open, but some of the desks were still there. But what I remember most was the blackboard, the alphabet letters across its top tier, and above that, the maps that you could pull down, though I certainly couldn’t reach them, and the pole with a hook for such maneuvers was long gone, perhaps repurposed as a fishing pole by one of the neighboring Hansen boys whom I later rode the bus with when in seventh grade when we all went to school in town, necessitating an 11 mile 25 minute commute.

Next on our outing, mother took us to the Height of Land Lake and its puny little dam, which is the source of the Ottertail River, all of which is within 65 miles from the source of the mighty Mississippi River where it flows from Lake Itasca, which now reminds me to encourage you all to read Holmes Co. author Paul Stutzman’s book “Stuck in the Weeds: Pilgrim Stories from the Camino De Santiago and the Mississippi River,” a most delightful encouraging adventure read with his bonus spiritual insights.

We and other relatives returned to the site of that schoolhouse in the years following but by then basically only a few stones of the foundation remained. Not being on a township road, it couldn’t survive for back then, it was just located between likely 4-5 small subsistence farms connected by logging or farm trails accessible then best by horses.

Yes, I remember mother well, as do many of my cousins, as my siblings and I are now frequently told. She possessed integrity, rooted in love, expressed in quiet kindly compassion in her small sphere of influence, always faithful to encourage, ever following Him. Following Him, not to get or accumulate, but only to give, to share; all from His warehouse and dispensed to her recipients with the understanding that He was the Source of all good gifts…

FYI, in hindsight now, I realize how remote and emotionally unavailable I was during the passing my mother. What was the deal with me anyway? Mother passed Labor Day weekend ’72 after Dad and Mom earlier that June had celebrated their 25th anniversary. Labor Day Monday was a beautiful day with the service at 2 pm, and by 4:30 pm, Dad was baling and I was on the wagon stacking bales, trying to get done before the 5 PM milking, and you know, back then, I always considered we were a functional normal family. After all, the hay was ready, and the cows did indeed need to be milked, all of which provided more than enough fertile ground to produce a a long term dysfunctional workaholic son.

Fortunately, we did have 18 months to prepare from the diagnosis, and she did spent most of her last months viewing the farm’s activities from her bed in front of the picture window, where she did physically transition to her new Home, finally free of all her pain, years before hospice was available. Understand though, her eldest son, for whom she had sacrificed so much, was off battling his own battles, solely created by me. They were not inherited, or given me by any luck of the draw, but, entirely by my choices. I was clueless and oblivious to the emotional needs and wishes of my prematurely dying mother and grieving father. I hope only a few of you can relate to this stark narrative of my experiences. If you’re familiar and need a listening ear, contact me by personal email. Perhaps that is why I was so attracted to the Dr. Brandt story above….

BOTTOM LINE:

Again as I said yesterday, I say to myself as well, WAKE UP! Life is passing us by. I just remembered the biggest disappointment for mother after that wonderful day exploring her childhood schoolhouse with us in tow, occurred was some weeks later when the film was processed, and it had somehow been double exposed so we had nothing as proof. Perhaps that is our bottom line for today. Though we’re totally surrounded and immersed in digitalized sights & sounds, be advised all such proofs may someday just go “poof and be gone,” whereas the relationships that we enjoyed in times past, or are now, or will be in the future, will grant you safe passage seeing you through all of life’s hurdles preparing you for transitioning into eternity. So invest well today!

NEXT UP: No idea yet. I only have a dozen such as today’s clip prepared to choose from, which often opens the door for the creative juices to begin flowing. If you are enjoying this blog, a gift from my three sons after an accident forced my retirement in ’18, please invite your friends to read it, and if they desire more of the same, to subscribe. The more the merrier. Yes, I know. It depends.

I am certainly not here to entertain you or write books. I believe I’m only here to get us ready to transition to whatever is next for each of us. Continual transitioning is the way we grow, whether physically, mentally, and especially, spiritually. Perhaps being a blog writer is not the most honorable pursuit, certainly not rewarding financially, but it’s mine for now, at least, until I’m transitioned to whatever is next. For example, after 41 years at the same address, the past 8 months of transitioning has been a brutal firestorm, but we survived, and are now even beginning to thrive as never before! Perhaps I am finally able to connect the dots on the MM header; Retooled & Thriving. Now it is perhaps exhibiting a smidgen of truth! You should know God gave me that banner back in ’18, and until very recently, I often considered the banner to be a hypocrisy to be so used .

Also, FYI, you should know last week while in Panama we were given our permanent visas, so now we can come and go as we choose.

Blessings on your life journey ever building your personal integrity’s visible latticework that indeed supports your internal silent repose drawing those persons and their unique personalities into your sphere of influence as you emulate The Master, especially now as we go toward Sunday, first to Worship, then to honor the Mothers we’ve been blessed to experience. Now simply decompress. Write. Share. Communicate as prompted.

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